Counter the Attack above You

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Lcienimbus

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Clair watched the arrows crept towards her, fired by the costumed idiot. Why did they always think some spandex made them invincible? The battlefield around her was so, so slow. Her own fault, she guessed. She might just be a wee bit high on a mix of kinetic energy and blood right now.

Taking a single step towards the arrow, she thrust her hand forward, bladed Duranium gauntlets cutting through the air. Drawing on the energy built up inside her, she activated Burst, her first aspect. Her hand snapped forward in midair, visibly blurring. Then her foot came down and she Stepped behind the archer, traversing the space between them in an instant.

Her hand, already moving faster than the human eyes could see, was milimeters from his exposed back and about to plunge into his kidneys. She could sheer through steel and magic. Spandex and flesh were nothing to her.

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Somebody_

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#1102  Edited By Somebody_

TWHIP! TWHIP!

No Caption Provided

Silver strands of silk entrapped the feminine foe’s hands before becoming taut, resulting in here unable to strike down her target, an archer with nothing more than some fancy bow and arrow who thought he could take on the world with his hi-tech arrows. Honestly, he'd probably be out of commission if it wasn't for the Technological Tarantula's crime app. A ping and a few minutes later he was here. Saving some rookie vigilante for, like, the third time this month.

Whoa! That is NOT how we do things downtown!”

Wrapping the silk around his hands before violently tugging the lines anchored onto the samurai cosplayer, the Spider would force her airborne, leaving her with no mobility and without the possibility to outmatch him in terms of speed on the ground. Off the ground, he was the apex, and he would press his advantage.

Fight smarter. Not harder.

Leaping off his high perch point, the Paragon of Precognition had a plan of attack. One well-placed uppercut that would send her body flipping backwards and rattle her brain, possibly leaving her unconscious for a few moments before coming too. That would be perfect. Leaves less of a chance of risk of her counterattacking. Not that she could anyway.

Firing a thick cluster of webbing all around her torso in a blur, the Webbed Wonder began wrapping her up like an insect in a cocoon before attaching several lines to her ensnared self, leaving her upside down, webbed up, and nowhere to go. All in the span of a few seconds, if not less.

Perfect. And the viewers will love that.

Aw. She looks almost . . . peaceful up there,” the Spider jested, a chuckle escaping his lips as he double-checked his HUD to make sure he was live-streaming his amazing stunt. Yep. And the drone caught the footage at the perfect angle. It meant all his little quips and commentary weren't going to waste.

No Caption Provided

Nice.

Gracing the rapidly approaching ground with his signature three-point landing, the Ambidextrous Arachnid raised himself up until he was supported only by his legs and rotated his head back and forth, searching for the bow and arrow guy.

I need to talk to him and-. Craaaaaaaaap. Not now.

A vibe. And not the good kind.

Leaping suddenly into the air onto a brick wall upside down, the Spider fired off several rounds of webbing at his new adversary [You!]. Except this particular type of webbing wasn't what he had applied to the vampire. Impact webbing. Designed for more dangerous and/or immediate targets that he needed to dispose of quickly. It wasn't cheap or easy to make but very effective. If just one round were to hit his target, it would send them soaring for a few feet with webbing expanding and wrapping around their torso and their limbs before they hit a structure or the ground and finding themselves stuck to that surface and completely immobilized. Hopefully, his next opponent wouldn't prove to be too much of a hassle, and the Spider could be on his merry way to find that rookie archer and get the sharpshooter to give up his current lifestyle.

The Swinging Sensation didn't need a dead good Samaritan on his conscience.

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Blubber

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The fact was he never saw it coming. To Blubber all he saw was a small incoming blob that he could easily avoid. Unfortunately his naivety would be his undoing as the first of many, impact webbings struck him when he wasn’t ready. Upon impact, the first hit him on his left shoulder, forcing him to jerk to one side only a few inches, as his magnanimous girth cushioned the blow with just a few seconds of wiggling. But it was what happened after that, which gave him trouble. Just as the webbing collided, it began to grow, spreading it’s way down his arm and across his plus sized chest. In response, he reached for it with his right hand, grasping it firmly and began peeling it off. Much like glue, the webbing stretched as he pulled, while sticking to his hand at the same time. By now, the next several shots fired by the Spider had hit, and within seconds big old Blubber was encased head to toe in a cocoon of webs.

But despite being trapped inside, Blubber never gave up hope and treated the threat like a game, one in which his shape-shifting skills would help. From deep inside he shouted, “Here comes Blubber!” as for the first time ever he increased his size. Suddenly, his chest began to expand, puffing itself out, followed by his arms, legs and even his butt. With every second he grew fatter, challenging the web into a contests to see which of the two could stretch the most. In the end it was Blubber, as he now looked more like a parade blimp rather than a plus sized individual, with the webbing splitting into pieces, while clinging to parts of his body. All that was left now was to peel away those strands one by one as he returned to his preferred size, followed by a few comments such as, “Its so sticky!

Suddenly Grant was startled by the sounds of a stranger [You] behind him and without thinking things through he turned to attack. Wasting no time, he opened his jaw to the point it was unhinged like a snake and began inhaling for all he was worth. For just a few seconds his chest continued to expand as he filled what passed as his lungs to their capacity. Then with a bright red face, he exhaled, with such a force of wind that it rivaled a class five hurricane. Although it was out of character for Blubber to attack this way, everything between him and the stranger would be hit with winds blowing at 156 mph. Whether it be cars, trees or whatever, it would be caught up in the breeze, for a good minute or two, until Blubber’s belly was empty!

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NightBreaker

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What started as a brisk breeze, quickly turned into a typhoon. At first small pieces of trash blew through the air, wisping by like leaves in the wind, soon to be followed by larger objects. By the time the overweight individual had finished with his attack, automobiles of all sizes were tossed around. Unfortunately Marcus had no place to hide as the entire alley was now being blown at him with an impressive speed and accuracy. By now, even he was subject to the typhoon as his feet were quickly kicked out from underneath him, thus lifting him helplessly into the air. Before he even knew it, he was being thrown around like a rag doll helpless to do anything but submit.

But just as he was about to be blown away, his grit and determination kicked in as he shouted, “I will not be sub-missed so easily!” Although his words were not heard over the sounds of roaring wind, the seriousness in his tone could not be denied. With a flexing of his muscles, he fights through the storm only to reach out with one hand. Then in a brilliant display of manliness he grips the concrete road beneath him so tightly, his fingers dig into the solid rock like a makeshift anchor. Still fighting the wind, he was dragged back a few more feet as a carved out trail is left behind his grasp. In the mean time several large pieces of debris flew by him, with one or two slamming against his near impervious hide, but in the end he managed to survive. All that was left was an empty street with five long tears down the middle.

With no time to waste, he quickly regains his composer as he jumps to his feet, ready to dish out some private justice. It was then he noticed his opponent [You] standing strong just twenty yards away. With peak human reflexes he pulls out his energy bladed knife and began a mad dash straight forward. Behind his mask his face was stern as he closed in, knowing full well that he was an easy target, therefore he planned for a surprise before he was in striking distance. At the last seconds, he lowered his shoulders, hoping that he did not telegraph his move, then shifted his whole body weight to the point he was now attempting to slide between his enemies legs, feet first. If successful he would then swipe away with his dagger upon his enemies calf and hamstrings, with a blade that could cut through most metals. It was indeed a gutsy move, and one a trained fighter would not expect, but it was also dangerous if caught.

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Doctor_Dominion

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It was fairly clam day as the God Among Men was strolling through the streets of an unnamed city with the weight of the world on his mind. His face was just as cold and still as the mask that it stood behind, a true reflection of how he was currently feeling on this day. He continued pacing forwards as his thoughts stayed poised on what he deemed to be the most important thing for his thoughts to say on, that was how it went until he broke from his trance and noticed a stranger standing no further than 20 yards away from himself. Taking quick notice of the person before him, the Good Doctor studied him in an attempt to tell whether or not this was someone who he should see as an immediate threat. The assessment gaining results only moments later.

The figure began to run in his direction with the glow of some type of weapon glowing in his hand that was able to swayed the attention of Dominion as he prepared to make his defense against his opponent. As the enemy got closer, Dominion realized the type of weapon that he was being faced with as he was only moments away from being potentially injured by this foe. He activated his energy shield and as his attacker slid through his legs, only for the blade to be nullified by the amount of energy that was being output from the suit. While the suit itself had a very low chance of being damaged by such a weapon, the risk was not one that Dominion was willing to take.

Dominion launched himself away by a few meters, only to gain higher ground and escape the area that his last enemy was. After a few minutes of walking as a way of calming himself from the attack, yet another stranger was spotted in the distance by Dominions ever searching vision. He was not able to make out the shape very well, but he was able to see enough of it to make a decision as how to deal with this new matter. After standing there long enough, the man clad in a armor was able to decide that it was better to launch an attack before this new person had the chance to do the same to him. Raising his finger and pointing it straight at his new enemy, he fired an electric blast that while fairly slow but contained enough power to stop a human's heart from pulsing.

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SimuIacra

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#1106  Edited By SimuIacra

Reacting without thinking, Simulacra cartwheeled to the side, the blast just barely zigzagging past him and crackling against the pavement. Fishing a pen out of his back pocket, he clicked it, revealing the ink coated tip.

Smirking to himself as he thought of the famous quote 'the pen is mightier than the sword', the assassin hurled the writing tool like a bullet at his next foe, making use of his telepathic senses in such a way that, by tracking the mental activity of his opponent, he would in essence be throwing the pen wherever they'd think to dodge.

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Gripper

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Like the lovable fool he was, Jack was always caught in some form of a fight. With his feet firmly planted on the ground he held his fists up, with his mechanical ones still holstered inside. From the looks of it, his enemy was holding a small object in his hands, one he took great pride in. But as his enemy cocked back his arms, all Jack could think was, “Great, and just what is he going to do with that now!” For as far as he could tell, the object could be anything from a laser gun to a simple explosive devise. The only thing he did know was his enemy had a serious look on his face, when he arched his shoulder back. But without a single word his adversary launched it forth like a bat out of hell, sending the small writing pen whizzing along with a speed that rivaled a bullet. But despite the precise brutality of such a simple devise, Jack decided to deal with it in his own way. With less than a second to respond, Jack utilized his advanced reflexes and arched his right shoulder back, hoping that the pen would glance by rather than strike, leaving him unharmed. But to his surprise, Jack was flabbergasted to see the pen change direction.

Just as he moved, so did the pen. Never before had he seen such a thing, and to be honest, it spooked him. It was as if the pen had a mind of it’s own. By now the pen had made it’s way across the battlefield, closing in on Jack. For anyone else it would have meant certain death, even if armored, for the pen was thrown with such force, it could seemingly pierce the best Kevlar. Luckily Jack had an ace up his sleeve, or in this case four mechanical ones, and with a thought one was called forth to battle. From around his upper right shoulder, the one closest to the incoming attack, a mechanical arm sprung forth, coming to life as it shot out to defend it’s host. Then with a miraculous speed it extended before him, just in time to ensnare the pen between its three steel prong tips, inches away from his exposed head, right between his eyes. After only a brief sigh of relief, he then released his grip, dropping the pen to the ground, just in time to utter the words “That could have been nasty!

It was then he saw a new fighter [You] approaching in the distance, a good fifty yards away. Standing on the opposite side of the street, late at night, the only light shining came from the street lights above them. Assuming the stranger was a threat, Jack wasted no time in defending himself. With a quick call to all four of his mechanical arms, they shot forth from his back ready to aid with some extra muscle. The two lower Stooges, Curly and Shemp, both reached out to his sides, ensnaring parked cars along the side of the road, only to easily lift them over his head and hurl them at his opponent with an impressive display of speed. As for the upper left Stooge, it open fired, by releasing small compact balls of energy, beginning with a charge at the tip of one arm then others. They shot outwards like highly charged cannon balls. As for Moe, he had the pleasure of tilting Jack’s thick shades further down his nose, in order to get a better look at all the carnage he just set loose.

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NightBreaker

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The first car was easy to avoid, for even though it was coming in fast, it was still large and awkwardly thrown. All Marcus had to do was a quick tuck and roll to the far side of the street, so that the first automobile came crashing down a few yards away, in the middle of the street. The only damage it caused was an over abundance of glass and scrap metal, exploding out in all directions. But as Marcus’s body was nigh-invulnerable, the shrapnel bounced off his flesh, like water off a ducks back. But by now the second car was coming in faster, whistling its way in like a bullet. Once again he choose to avoid the attack, by means of getting out of its way, and as such he sprinted back out to the middle of the street. With a beautiful display of athleticism, he leaped forward, only to place his hand firmly on what was left of the first car, and with a little kick, pole-vaulted over the debris like it was nothing, safely landing on the far side. Seconds later the other car came crashing down, only to skid across the pavement where it built up more momentum, allowing it to tumble along, leaving behind ten inch gashes along the way! But with every move he made, and throughout all his athletic prowess, he kept one eye on his opponent, learning any and every trait he could read.

It was because of this reason alone, he not only knew his enemy was preparing for another attack, but was prepared to avoid it. Like the automobiles, It was all about avoidance, and as such he began weaving side to side. As his enemy fired blast after blast from one of his mechanical arms, the amount of damage was staggering. Every one Marcus avoided collided with the background, either setting the streets ablaze or just simply wipe it away from existence. But despite all the damage going on, there was one up side to it all. With a quick accumulation of the level of destruction created by the mechanical appendage, Marcus came to the conclusion that his enhanced body could survive a direct blast, or so he hoped! In a bold and daring move, Nightbreaker went on the offensive, stepping out of the shadow and began running forward in a straight line, right towards his opponent. As planned, his enemy continued to fire at him, but instead of dodging, Marcus continued to run forward. To the surprise of them all, when the energy blasts hit, Marcus was unphased, only jerking his frame back an inch as if shoved by another human being. Where it not for the dark smudge sizzling over his uniform there would be no other way of telling he was even hit.

But by now his enemy had gone, either running away in fear or to get more reinforcements. Either way, Marcus noticed a new opponent [You] standing on the battlefield, and quickly turned to engage him/her. With little care to why the stranger was here, Marcus jumped to the conclusion he/she was a threat, and preceded to treat, him/her as one. Wasting no more time, he reached into his utility belt and pulled out two small but sharp throwing stars. Then with both hands, he propelled them forward with full use of his enhanced strength, each one on opposites sides of the road. The one to the right, perfectly executed, struck a hydrant in such a way, that it showered the street in water, spraying out across everything. The one to the left, aimed slightly higher, struck a nearby street light and upon hitting it, it quickly came crashing down with its full electrical charge in tow. Upon collision the light would hit the water in such a way that it would turn the whole street into a conductor sending enough volts to kill a elephant. However, as his attack was rather obvious, he choose to mask it with a verbal assault, therefore just before he released the Shurikens, he made it a point to jest, “Lights out,..... Stranger!

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Gripper

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With so much going on around him, Gripper was caught off guard. All he heard was a cocky, “Lights out,..... Stranger!” but by then it was too late. For at the time he heard his enemies quip, his plan was already in motion and Jack was standing in a puddle of water, up to above his ankles. But despite the fact he has above human reflexes, he failed to catch the second Shuriken as it passed by, even with one of his Stooges. In effect his upper arm reached out, but unfortunately missed the blade by mere inches. Because of this, his enemies Shuriken struck the nearby street light and upon hitting it, littered the street with a shower of electrical sparks that quickly fell down, right were Jack was standing. Lucky for him, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize what would happen if the falling lamp post fell in to the water at his feet, and as he didn’t want to find out if his new body could survive the shock, he quickly choose to get the hell out of the way. But by now the whole street was covered in a shallow pool of water, making escape impossible, and turning the whole street into one big conductor, that could burn the city down in a matter of minutes.

With no time to react Jack fell back on instincts. With a thought, two of his lower mechanical arms shot forth from his back and with a mighty ‘Slam’ they dug into the ground. Their three pronged tip extended into a flat base where they locked in place as support beams. Then with but another mental command, he continued to extend them outwards to the point they quickly began lifting him up like an elevator. Within seconds he stood twenty feet off the ground, suspended by the two mechanical arms, with just the tip of them submerged in water. At that exact moment the street light fell into the water, causing a cascade of electrical sparks, popping and snapping along the street. But, just as the wave of electricity began zapping around his metallic arms, a strange occurrence began to unfold. Instead of being conductors, that channeled the energy, they slowly began to absorb it. Soon a bright yellow glow resonated around the same area as the water, until the full charge in across the street was defused. As it does there was little change to the mechanical arms, but a refreshing look crossed Jack’s face as if vitalized by some unknown force!

Just then, as the water quickly poured down the drains, another stranger [You] entered the scene. Standing a few yards away, on what could only be called a battlefield of smashed cars and broken street lights, the place was abandoned. Before the stranger could react, Jack dropped back to his feet, then extended all four off his special little arms twenty feet in front of him. Then with but a thought, the four arms began coiling over one another until he had one giant braided arm before him. With a quick, “Time to say goodbye!” he began spinning them around and around until a strong wind began to pick up. Soon enough larger objects like dumpsters began blowing down the street quickly followed by cars. The force created by Jack’s combined arms was now unleashing winds, around 261-318 mph. By now even the windows along the street had cracked adding glass to the multiple shrapnel flying forward, that seemed never to end. For as the effects of a class 4 tornado continued to blow, they came from Jacks mechanical arms, eliminating human fatigue, the attack could go on and on until the stranger was stopped, or even better yet, surrendered!

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ShadowGuard

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He stood alone, out in the middle of the streets like a deer caught in the headlights, with no place to go and no place to hide. For every item around him began moving as his enemy created a tornado. The first to go was the garbage, discarded along the street, quickly followed by the larger dumpsters. But it wasn’t until the cars parked along the sides, that began to roll like tumbleweeds, that Lamont knew he was in trouble. By now he had lost his footing, falling backwards like a rag-doll, unable to regain his balance or control his direction. It took every thing he had not to be blown away like a discarded tissue, even now as he fumbled back further and further. What’s worse, as he was blown away, he was still getting bombarded by the occasional shrapnel being tossed around in the wind with him. Occasionally, he would try to grab the pavement below, only to lose his grip and tumble back further. But to make it worse, as his body was falling over itself, he managed to see that he was heading straight towards a brick wall, in the form of a standing building, residing at the far end of the street.

Immediately, a look of concern swept over his face as he recognized the fact, that if his body hit the wall at this speed, it would break every bone in his body. With that in mind, he quickly reached for the rope under his cloak, and with great difficulty, managed to not only retrieve it, but get enough slack to form a lasso. Unfortunately, for him twirling the rope was an impossibility against the winds of a class 4 tornado, and as such he needed to get clever or slam hard against the approaching wall. With no time to waste, he looked through his third eye, and by shear force of will, he forced the rope to move forward like a bullet against the wind, until it was able to wrap itself around one of the fire hydrants, that miraculously managed to survive the storm. Immediately, his body snapped to attention as the rope tightened, leaving him dangling at the end like a fish on a hook, with no place to hide. He was still forced to roll side to side in order to avoid the incoming shrapnel, but it was then as he scurried aside he came up with a plan.

Putting a lot of luck in his skill, he began digging the heels of his boots into the pavement underneath him. Then in a kicking motion, he slowly began rocking his frame side to side like a pendulum, until building up enough momentum that he was briefly, but safely, reaching both sides of the street. Then, after a few mathematical equations in his head, he ran himself as far as he could to the right side, only to kick into high gear as he swung to the left. At that point as his body was in motion, he boldly let loose of his safety line, allowing the wind to take control and blow his body away. But as planned, instead of being blown straight into the wall, he took on a more curved pattern sending him to a nearby alley, out of the path of the tornado. Landing in a perfectly executed tuck and roll, he immediately jumped to his feet, while drawing his twin .45-caliber from their holster. Then with but a clicking back of their hammers, he quickly began preparing for some overdue retaliation.

Utilizing the advantage of higher ground, he reached out for, and grabbed the nearest fire escape, then proceed to race up it, until reaching safety on the roof top above. Disregarding his need for stealth, he knelt down over the ledge in order for a clean shot, only to discover that his enemy had already left the scene. The streets below were still a huge mess, as is most battlefields, but surprisingly enough there was still a lone individual [You], walking along side the debris. Somewhat out of character, he assumed the new stranger was a threat, and as such needed to be dealt with. With both guns ready to fire, he took great aim at the stranger, preferably exposed areas, and pulled the trigger. Except for the sound of two guns simultaneously going, ‘BANG!’ there should be no way he could be discovered, until it was too late. But in a world were people fly and shoot energy from there hand, one may never know. Either way, Lamont quickly left the scene after only two shots, deducting that his skills would be better used, somewhere else!

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TheEngima

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Alone in the middle of the street, there was a darkness in the street. This was the darkness of the Sinister Supreme, The Horror of All things. In his perspective the bullets were frozen in space. Giving him the chance to look around the city that he was in. It was a lot different from the land of Timor. They had roads and other advanced buildings constructs such as houses. They wore different clothing among other things, he began to wonder about how they were turn out under his influence. When many saw him, the fear grew within them, causing them the die in a panic. As he mind began to wonder so did the environment. The cityscape began to shift into a more abstract place. Skyscraper began to float into the sky and gravity shifted to the right, the road underneath his feet crumbled and presented an endless abyss of darkness. Many of the citizens of the large city began to experience psychological traumas, and began to grow paranoid, killing each other. Mothers strangled sons, daughters drowned their fathers. The people of the city began to grow insane, some locked themselves within the darkest places, others letting the rats eat them alive. Every being was subject to his thoughts, the bullets that were fired at him turned to dust as did everything else when Ulysses stopped his wondering.

With in the desert that now remained from the massive metropolitan area was. There stood Ulysses, noticing new entity. Not carrying about how they got her, he simply transformed the Terrain around him into into a extreme foggy forest, much like Timor. He then created thousands of abominations ,no better than the average Olympian Gold Medalist to attack his new opponent while he went off to do more damage to other parts of the world.

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ShadowGuard

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Before he knew it the world was changing. Reality was no longer a constant, but a play thing to the stranger in the street. Buildings including the one he was standing on, were now floating in the air. The people in the streets were killing each other in a state of panic and oddly enough, gravity shifted to the right. Throughout it all Lamont was helpless against the power of the stranger, for he had never met a mind as strong as his. Even with his mental shields up, he could feel the stranger’s will ripping at his thoughts, peeling away his memories and replacing them with others. Already he had forgotten where he was as he fought hard to stay upright, but after safely reaching a solid ground, he knew what he had to do. Unable to save everyone around, his only choice was to save himself and as such, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Looking at the world through his third eye, he began repeating over and over, “My mind is my own! My thoughts are my own!” Using an ancient technique he learned in the Orient, he focused all his will power into staying alive and not being overwhelmed, by the strangers will. But in the end this would be, by far, the hardest thing he had ever done, as already his nose began to bleed.

In the beginning it was like playing chess with memories, as some would flicker away, while others came rushing in. The harder he fought the more hopeless it seemed, as by now the veins along the side of his head were throbbing. His mind and body were literally being ripped apart like paper, leaving him to wonder how much longer he could stand the pain. It was then, just as his eyes were about to roll up in his head, the pain stopped, and he fell abruptly to his knees. Pushed to his limits, he took only a half a second to catch his breath, then slowly opened his eyes to see his new reality. The world was now a desert, void of life, covered with endless sand. Lamont no longer knew whether to laugh or cry and instead choose simply to stand tall and take it all in. The one thing he did know was that someone had to pay for the loss of lives and with both guns firmly in hand he looked outward for the stranger. Yet once again reality shifted, as a dense fog appeared from nowhere. But unlike the first change, his reality was not in question, just the areas around him and just as the battlefield turn an eerie cold he could hear the sound of thousands of abominations surrounding him.

Knowing full well he was not going to make it out of here alive, he embraced his situation as only he could. Recklessly, he fired off a few shots into the abyss, before drawing his sword with his right hand, then got down to business. As always his first act was to engage his stealth and with just a thought his appearance simply vanished from sight. Next he used his echoing voice to take down as many as he could and with a simple laugh, he sent out a mystical sound, so hideous that it would strike fear into any one who heard it. Gripping his sword tight, he recited an old Celtic prayer and charged forth into battle. Holding nothing back he fought like a lion, fueled with the knowledge this was his final battle, for all life had been erased from the planet and replaced with cruel sadistic beasts. What followed next would be a battle of epic proportions, as he cut and sliced away at any who crossed his path. Other times he would simply put a single bullet into the beasts head, then maybe a round house kick to them just to be sure. Over all it would be a blood bath, as no doubt he too would take several wounds and die, but in the end he would go down fighting, fighting for a cause he believed in, mainly the countless lives earlier erased by the stranger.

Back on a world unaffected by the strangers reality warping abilities, ShadowGuard finds himself standing on a rooftop at night, lit only by the light of a full moon. The ground underneath them felt like cold cement, with a brisk wind whipping by. Standing at the far side, near the ledge, he faced you, with his guns both locked and loaded. Both barrels aimed dead center at your chest. In an eerie but non-mystic way he boasts, “Mors tua sit pax vobis!” then once again uses his will power to become invisible to his enemies eyes. Assuming that his little trick worked, he would then began his next attack with the aid of his cloak. Chemically treated with a formula of his own, his dark black cloak, which should still be invisible, can bend and stretch while still being hard and strong. Thus, with a sharp turn of his hips, he whips the tail around and aims it at his foes chest, with the same force as a bullwhip and as hard as being hit by a baseball bat. If effective it should have enough force to knock you over the ledge, at which point you may or may not fall to your death!

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Scoundrel

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Before he knew it the ground beneath him began to shake. The roof top he was standing on began to crumble. It started with a low rumbling beginning from the ground up, causing small fissures to crack the cement. It then quickly built up to where the walls split in half, sending layers of dust all around. Unfortunately, for Conrad, he was caught off guard and as such he fell to the chaos around him. Like a rag doll he was shaken as he fumbled around fighting to stand, but the more he fought the less ground there was to stand on. In the end his only option was to ride the wave and pray to come out of this alive. With a thought he activated a gymnast program in his mind, granting him the feats of an Olympic level gymnast with the touch of mastering parkour. By now the top first five stories underneath him were gone, falling down like an avalanche of rock and mortar, combined with a rumbling echo. The only thing holding him up was a larger slate of debris that managed to stay whole. For the next few seconds he road it like a surfer, until it quickly began teetering over, only to fall hard and fast like a rock.

Using his special skills, he pushed off preforming a technically perfect summersalt sending him through the air to land feet first on another slab falling down. From there he would launch off, skipping side to side by jumping back and forth on smaller rocks, by planting a firm foot on one, only to kick off to the next, each time with an alternate foot. In time he was making his way down, systematically by leaps and bounds, utilizing flawless flips and spins, off alternating debris falling around him. In the end he road his way down, until it came time to hit the street below, where he began slowing his pace down by back stepping. Looking like a upward “moonwalk” he continued to step backwards upon the falling debris until he slowed down safe enough to land firmly on the street below him. Unfortunately he was not out of the woods yet, as a mountain of rubble was still falling down upon him, crashing down like a force of nature. His only option was to concentrate and create an invisible shield around him, to take the full force of impact.

For the next few minutes, he stood there as wave after wave of rock and mortar fell down upon him with only a three inch thick invisible shield protecting him. But like a trooper he concentrated hard on his construct, supplying him the safe haven he needed. Seconds later the last of the building had fallen, as he stood alone in a junk pile of broken parts, with a thick layer of dust in the air. With a thought he dispelled his shield as he made his way up to one of the higher mounds of rubble, and there he looked out across the carnage that fell with him. Under his helmet he shed a tear for all the unnecessary loss of lives, only to witness another lone figure [You] standing on another pile a good fifty yards away. Assuming this was the cause of all the damage, he instinctively reached into his utility belt and with both hands drew an explosive devise resembling a ‘Throwing Star.” Then with just a twist of his hips, and the aide of a “marksmanship” program running through his head, tossed them forward with the speed and velocity of a professional baseball player. Should they collide, or go off in his vicinity, the explosion would be enough to topple a military tank. But just in case that wasn’t enough, Conrad choose to add insult to injury, and as he openly mocked, “Nighty Night” to his enemy, he flicked his wrist and a fully loaded 9mm shot forth into the palm of his hand. From that point on he unloaded all 15 rounds with each one following his target, with spot on, perfect aim!!

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StraightShot

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Once again Flynn was dropped right in the middle of trouble, with a stranger fifty yards away, throwing a small hand held devise in his direction. With his feet dug into the ground for traction, he had already drawn a titanium tip arrow across his bow. His right hand holding the string tight. By now the enemy’s devise was closing in fast, whistling through the air as it traveled along. But by pure luck he stood down wind, just far enough to catch the unmistakable scent of explosive plastique heading his way, so immediately he went into action. With less than seconds to react, he let loose of the string sending his arrow in flight, at such a remarkable angle that the tip collided with the grenade. Immediately, it went off, releasing a huge fire ball, with a echoing “Boom!” as the shrapnel exploded at a safe distance. Seconds later, all that was left was a cloud of smoke and an incessant ringing in his ear. Unfortunately, for Flynn the fight was far from over, as he was reaching for another titanium arrow to lay across his bow, his opponent made the odd, off the cuff remark, “Nighty Night!” It was then he noticed, a small 9mm fall into his enemies hand as he raised it up to aim at the Archer and pulled the trigger, that Flynn moved into action.

With the release of his arrow, it soared out across the field as nothing more than a distraction, aimed at his enemies chest. With little to no chance of actually hitting him, it did however effect his aim, causing the first bullet to wiz by, missing him by a hair. Immediately, he pushed off, running to one side in a flash, hoping to out run the other bullets, or make it to safety. In the mean time his opponent continued to fire, with each shot getting closer and closer. But by sheer dumb luck, Flynn kept moving, with bullets flying by his head, so close he could feel the breeze as they past by, while others would fall behind him seconds away from where he last stood. In the end he finished with leaping into the air, only to preform a perfect tuck and roll, just in time to hear the “Click Click” from his enemies gun, signifying he was either out of bullets or better yet, his gun jammed! Immediately, he dropped to one knee, while at the same time drawing one of his special little arrows and laid it across his bow. With the string held back so tight, it was cutting into his gloves, he relentlessly aimed it at his opponents last location, only to find out, he was already gone!

But just as a new fighter entered the scene [You], Flynn took immediate action against him/her. Releasing his grip on the string, he let loose an arrow, but not any typical arrow, this one was his ‘Sonic Arrow!” Flying with a speaker at it’s tip, it let out a slow and steady tone, that first only dogs could hear. But as it progressed the sound would increase in decibels. Soon the sound would be so loud that it could pierce a persons ear drums, causing the individual such pain that he/she would get dizzy, nauseous and soon incapacitated. However, Flynn would not stop there. With the ‘Sonic Arrow’ only effecting forward, he quickly drew another of his special arrows and laid it across his bow. Then with a quick release, he let it fly. But as this was his ‘Bola Arrow’ the tip opened up to reveal two steel balls held together with a ten inch chain. Should his enemy be dazed or confused from his first strike, his second would ensnare him/her in a trap were the chain would wrap him/her up and eventually, the steel balls would knock him/her out!

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Revenynt

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It was like a pair of nukes detonating inside my ears.

I let out an ungodly shriek as the pain reverberated through my eardrums, burrowing through my skull. All notion of pain tolerance torn asunder, I collapsed to my knees, clasping the sides of my head as the agonizing noise continued without end.

I couldn't hear my own voice over the cry of the sonic device, but I knew I hadn't stopped screaming. My vision flickered, mind reduced to an incoherent mess of thoughts. I should've been unconscious. It would've been a wonderful reprieve from the earsplitting torture I'd found myself.

Teetering on the brink of consciousness, something else in me lingered on. A guttural growl rumbled from my throat. A tidal wave of fury swirled inside, drowning out the pain, the noise, everything but. Just before I blacked out, I grinned.

I was no longer in the driver's seat.

It was.

Revenynt's eyes grew sunken, till the sockets were pitch black, devoid of anything. Flames engulfed his head, reducing the flesh flesh to cinders till the grinning skeleton beneath was revealed. A low cackle escaped the mouth of the otherworldly thing that had erupted from what was once a man.

As the bola arrow shot towards the creature, it moved like lightning, ducking beneath the projectile. The arrow sailed right into the hellish flames crackling atop the skeleton's head; only cinders came through it.

A fifteen foot chain uncoiled from the creature's wrist, aglow with crimson fire. It seared against the concrete, the ground bubbling when met with its ungodly heat.

Cackling once more, the creature swung the chain towards [you], directing its arc so that it might ensnare [you] in a hellish vice and reduce [you] to ash.

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The_Crazed

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#1117  Edited By The_Crazed

Once again Carl was in trouble. It was not an uncommon event, in fact ever sense he was genetically altered, trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went. But in this case he was facing a flaming skeleton, and most cases he would be laughing over the obvious joke, but not this time. Instead the Hell Spawn spun a chain, cursed with Hellfire, that lit the night with an eerie glow. Even from a distance Carl could smell the scent of sulfur in the air, as the fire around the chain popped and sparked. Then with but a flick of his wrist, the demon flung his chain out and across the battlefield, with a ‘snapping’ sound, as it cracked forth. With a mind of it’s own it arched, just so that it came whipping towards Carl’s midsection with a speed that rivaled a bullet. With less than seconds to react, in his disturbed persona, all Carl could think was, “you know this guy reminds me of a birthday candle..” followed by “how soon is it till my birthday?

Moving offimpulse alone, in an impressive display of acrobatics, the Crazed kicked off launching the full form of his mass up and into the air. Then, just as the burning chain came crashing in, Carl flexed in such a way that his body began to do a side ways flip. Soon enough, he was soaring over the chain in a counter clockwise pattern, while laughing all the way. But in true Crazed style, at the exact point in time when his whole body was passing over head, while being upside down at the same time, he let out a curious ‘wink’ just to let him know, “Oh yeah, I see you over there, burning like a birthday candle!” In the end, he safely landed on both feet, mere inches away from where he began, but clearly on the far-side of the burning chain. Unfortunately for him, just as he regained his footing he was ready and prepared for a fancy catch phrase, but when he looked out to make fun of his fiery foe….he was gone!

Still filled with adrenaline, all the Crazed wanted was some good old fun and by greatest of luck, found himself an opponent [YOU] at the end of the alley, just a few yards away. With nothing between him and his objective, the street was barren with nothing more that discarded trash, making it oh so easy to attack. Moving at an above peak human speed, he raced forwards while still bobbing and weaving as he closed in. Then just to build up momentum, he pushed off from the ground, arching to the point he began running down the alley, but now along the walls. Moving off nothing but hope by this point, at the moment he would reach striking distance, he would vault off the wall and back on the street, where he would land firmly on nothing but his left hand, as he would use both of his legs to thrust kick straight into his enemies [YOU] gut!

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Bashanipal

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The Scholar of the First Sin observed as the wild man ran towards him in a display of inhuman movement -- as he seamlessly transitioned from the ground to the walls. In all his thousands of years walking the earth, he'd yet to see a man creative enough to move like this. The eyes swiveled in their sockets, still able, able to follow the man but not to easily predict his next attack as quickly as he could so many others. The man landed on his arm and flipped forward to functionally drop the thing.

One part flamboyant. One part potent. One part mostly impractical. The move struck true to the creature's gut, sending it hurdling across the dark alleyway. The creature finally comes to a stop as it hits the brick wall which awaited it's fleshy form. For a moment, the creature sits there, staring blankly into the ground...before it gets up without the use of it's hands. Or legs. Or it's body.

The broken ribcage simply welded itself back together. Dislocated joints simply popped back into place. Broken and mangled bone merely snapped back into place with a sickening crunch. And he was as he was before.

He gazed upon his prey, his body incapable of generating light or heat, for it was of the void. Of the cold and the dark. It produced no such energy as living things did. The moon however, gave his eyes a glint.

The Antediluvian moved with speed terrifying, unnatural and unforgiving to the human eye. His flesh moved forward without regard to inertia or momentum and his claws passed through steel concrete and brick with indifference. The strike would pass through bone as though it were air. It would slice a jugular, the heart and a lung in a single strike.

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In defiance to all logic, he went from being like a bullet to being like a statue, his trans-human (or any earthly animal for that matter) speed stopped with equal abruptness.

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TheSentinell

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It, in all honesty, was horrifying to look at. Its was like a human was only PARTIALLY melted and almost fused with its skeleton. It moved with great speed and, attempted to slice The Golden Guardian in his throat ,but mid-swing Altair grabbed the

forearm of the creature, stepping in closer to his target. He placed his other hand on the beast's chest. "Sorry about this" He whispered, before releasing a laser like beam from the center of his hand. While it started off with the diameter of a hair pin, it began to grow, eventually consuming the creature in its burning fiery.

He turned around, and saw [You], possible witnessed what he just did. However, he wasn't feeling angry or upset, simply, happy. "So I'm going to make this VERY easy for you" He said as he smiled. He pointed towards the sky, waiting for his opponent to look up as well. If they did, they would see medium-sized (50 ft in diameter) meteorites hovering a few miles in the air. Then Altair unleashed them on his target, however, he made sure that they were slow moving.

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Bashanipal

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"Few are so polite to apologize. But at the same token, few can afford the convience as you can." Kindness meant little when it was easy and convenient.

The creature watches idly as the man obliterates a meaningless illusion. A functional phantom. His eyes wander to the approaching hellscape which littered the sky.

"So be it." An "Easy" attack merited an easy evasion. Looking to the nearest sewer grate, the father of the forsaken simply walked over to it as his body compressed and slid in between the gaps. The thing disappeared into the ground as the impact eliminated all things around it decimating random structures about the entire block.

He reappeared some distance away, as he idly looked at the destroyed area in the distance. He sees his next target below and decides to try something a tad more creative. He turns his claws to a construction crane which sits atop of the building. A series of slashes loosens it. And a mere push sends it forward.

With that, a small tanks of heavy machinery are sent crashing down to the target who stands below.

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The_Crazed

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Standing at the base of the building, Carl was unaware of the danger that would soon be falling down upon him. Instead he stood in a crowd in full Crazed attire. Within seconds he was surrounded by onlookers with their camera phones in hand, all taking snap shots of a half naked guy with green hair and yellow skin. But in true ‘Crazed’ manner, Carl posed in several sexually explicit shots, all the while whistling, “Oh baby got back!” But just as the crowds gawked and gathered around him, from far in the back, a lone voice shouted, “Look out! Above!” Immediately, Carl and the crowd looked to the sky, just in time to see a construction crane teetering over the edge with a strange individual, pushing it from the far side. In one moment of pure insanity Carl raised his hands up high then oddly remarked, “Oh look the building is giving me a gift?!?!” But as he quickly noticed the crowd running in a state of panic, the idea they were in danger crossed Carl’s warped and confused mind. Confused that he was no longer the center of attention, he took a dramatic pose with his boa blowing in the wind, and with great pride remarked, “This looks like a job for Superion!” followed by several “da da da da da!

Immediately, but shortly after several failed attempts to fly, Carl ran to the base of the building and right on until he hit the wall. But instead of slamming head first into a slab of concrete, Carl kicked off, only to plant his proceeding foot against the wall, where he surprisingly began to run up it, as easy as could be. Unfortunately, by now the crane had been pushed over the edge, and was now falling at an alarming rate. Already it had fallen a good ten stories, building up speed and momentum with every second, while still pulling down half of the roof in tow. Still, Carl raced blindly up the side, oblivious of the danger, with only the thought of protecting the weak running through his rattled mind. Therefor, when the two finally met in the middle, Carl braced himself just in time, to catch the crane in both hands. Immediately, he felt a jerking sensation, as the crane fell into his arms, almost pulling him off the wall, while his muscles tensed alone from the impact. Immediately, he let out a, “Whoa Doggy!” as he finally manage to get a hold of the crane, and even began showing off as he tried to curl it in his arms. But in the end he continued his path to the top, carrying the crane in tow, until he safely rested the wreckage atop right back where it came from.

Now standing alone on the roof top, there was no sign of the stranger that started this in sight, nor any sign of where he ran off to. Instead all that remained was a disheveled roof with signs of structural damage. But just as the sun was setting over the skyline, the shadowy figure of another individual [You] could be seen residing on the neighboring roof top. Over thirty stories high and alone, the roof top was also a helicopter pad, with a fully refueled chopper waiting for its next ride. Going off the assumption the stranger [You] was a threat, Carl quickly snatched up a handfuls of the debris in his arms and one by one, hurled them in the stranger’s direction. Now, even though the Crazed was never a professional baseball player, he still managed to throw the cement chips with a deadly threat, based purely of his enhanced strength and athletic prowess. But, just in case that was not enough, Carl saved one of the last rocks for a little extra surprise. With his arm cocked and ready, he hurled one at the Helicopter, at just the right angle, that it hit the fuel tank dead on. Immediately it erupted, that soon turned into a ball of fire, that consumed the rooftop and a few of the others. But as the Crazed was already fleeing from the scene, he could only imagine what carnage he brought to the stranger [You] should he/she still be up there!

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Gripper

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Jack was by far not a creature of the night. His many years on Earth had soften his demeanor. Although his younger years were full of hardship, forcing him to fight for a number of reasons, he had treated his new life as a second chance. Still filled with a loner attitude he welcomed his second chance as a chance to prove he was better than the life he lived before, and even make up for the many mistakes in his past life. In the most unlikely of circumstances, he found himself atop one of the cities tallest buildings with the sun slowly setting behind the sky line. Only the faint traces of light shined from the neighboring buildings as many of the offices were in use, lighting the sides up like candles. As for now Jack stood alone with nothing around him except for a few of the higher flying birds and a five hundred thousand dollar Helicopter resting on a pad in the middle of the roof! But just as he was about to leap across the wide gap to the nearest rooftop, he could just barely make out a half naked yellow man rustling around on the adjacent roof. For some unknown reason the stranger, with great speed and accuracy, was hurling giant concrete bricks in his direction.

But just as the first brick was about to collide, with a thought Jack summoned all four of his mechanical arms to the rescue. Taking a defensive stance, with a shift of his hips he shot forward ‘Moe,’ his right upper mechanical arm, catching the brick in mid flight, only to crush it into powder under the might of his steel claws. But by now tens of dozens of other bricks were hurling in his direction, some the size of bowling balls. In a beautiful display of his powers, Jack began whipping his mechanical arms around, sometimes up and down, sometimes left and right. In the end his arms either smash or collided with each brick, knocking them out of the sky, or more importantly away from striking him. After all was said and done, the sky was now layered in concrete dust that showered its way down, while his arms slowly recoiled back inside of him. Unfortunately, in all his heroism he failed to notice the most important brick, the one that hit the Helicopter’s gas tank, causing an instantaneous explosion!

Immediately, a ball of fire erupted, engulfing the rooftop in seconds, with a roar so loud that it shattered the nearby windows. The explosion itself was so bright that it could be seen miles away. With little to no options left, Jack ran to the edge of the rooftop at an unbridled peak human speed, only to jump off the ledge in a dramatic attempt to escape. Following an arc pattern, he leaped off just as the fire spread out above him, with his body heading dead center for the nearest building, just a few feet below the rooftop. But as planned, instead of grabbing hold of the buildings wall with his four mechanical arms, he fell to the nearest window, feet first. Therefore at the moment they collided, he managed to smash through it, with little difficulty, littering the room he entered with a shower of broken glass. He then finished in a tuck and roll, only to rise to his feet ready to battle. It was then as he quickly regained his footing, that he found himself in a plush filled apartment, with no one there except [You]!

Going off the assumption that [You] was a threat, Jack immediately proceeded to preform three perfectly executed back flips, just to get some distance between the two of them. Then, with a thought, he called forth all his mechanical arms, that came out snapping, and ready to fight! The first one came in straight forward like a battering ram, with it’s claws clamped tight forming a blunt tip. It’s goal was to simply strike hard and fast, hopefully ending the fight there. If not, two of his other three mechanical arms, stretched out to his sides, only to clamp down on the nearest heaviest item they could find. In one case it was a large couch, resting in the middle of the room, while the other ensnared an antique dresser placed against a far wall. In both cases, he swung them in, one from each side, timed that they would hit [You] at the same moment. As for his last mechanical arm, he uncoiled it over his shoulder where it hovered there like a cobra ready to strike. Its one and only purpose was to sit there and wait for the right moment, when his enemy [You] was distracted, and then and only then, it would release a low level energy blast, capable of putting down ten grown elephants with ease!

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Bashanipal

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#1123  Edited By Bashanipal

Bashanipal stood there in a standing position his arms held at his side. A relatively lax position compared to men who held their hands up, the monster was in a perfectly symmetrical and balanced position to shift to left as the tendril proved to decimate the wall behind it.

The vampire lord held out his claws, impaling the furniture as he caught it

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKK

The floor tore up as the vampire's feet scrapped into the wooden floor. Eventually he stopped on the other side of the room, the creature's gaunt body holding up the 400 and 700 pound dresser respectively. Before he tossed them aside to dent into the walls on his left and right sides as though they were dolls.

Now, he began to walk forward to his prey, curiously eyeing the lone tendril which started to glow ominously. A dead give away for an attack that might have acrtually proven capable of harming him. But the focus of the heat based energy proved to be it's bane.

Poof.

The monster disappeared in a puff of smoke. Every single cell of his body dissolved into a fine mist. And rather than manifesting immediately, he seemed content with this ethereal form. One which was practically invulnerable to physical impact. One which was slow, but fed very easily. And so, instead of simply manifesting easily, the Scholar of the First sin sought to slowly but assuredly invade his target's every orifice. He would violate them from the inside and out, drinking every last bit of their vital fluids from the inside. And only then would he be content to manifest.

If successful, rather than leave the person, he sought to materialize inside of his quarry. With gruesome results.

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Gripper

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@bashanipal: Just have to say, I thought that was a great post!

I applaud!!!

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Bashanipal

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@gripper said:

@bashanipal: Just have to say, I thought that was a great post!

I applaud!!!

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Thank you.

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Gripper

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It started as a bad case of heartburn. From deep inside, Jack could feel his organs bursting and ripping apart. It was a pain unlike he had ever felt before, as something unholy was growing up inside him. With nothing more than a puff of smoke, Jack’s body was host to his enemies presence, through an impressive display of power, was reforming inside him, while taring him apart at the seams. But just as his enemy was solidifying, Jack fought back the only way he could. Beginning with a nearly indestructible skeleton, his foe was forced to work around it, or have the bone structure rebuilding inside of him. As for the rest of Jack’s body, flowing around in his organs and blood streams, were tiny living organic metallic creatures that fought for him. As his enemies form was coming into existence, the creatures retaliated by forming barriers. Then from the inside they forced their enemy out, with random electrical shocks as well as ramming against it over and over, until the invading body was out. In the end the internal onslaught continued until their enemy was on the outside of their host Jack’s body, who was now in a state of repair.

Unfortunately for Jack, his enemies attack had caused him some serious damage, as he fell to one knee coughing up blood. His hands trembled in pain as his head was spinning. The only thing keeping him alive was the creatures inside him that were doing their best to heal him in record time. Already the tears to his lungs and kidneys were healing over, as he gripped the ground beneath him as a sign of stability and strength, as his self proclaimed ‘Stooges’ shot forth to aid him even further. Within seconds Jack was hoisted up on both feet with his two lower mechanical arms propped underneath him like crutches, while his upper two swiped back and forth, looking for the man that just attacked. But by shear dumb luck their enemy was gone, with no other sign that he was ever there, other than Jack’s blood drying up on the ground beneath him. “Well guys” Jack said to his stooges, as he tried to stand up on both feet, “Looks like we scared him off.” But the fact was he was in no shape to fight, even with his little friends busy at work inside of him, but as long as he was still capable of raising his drinking hand to his lips, he considered the fight a win!

Several hours later, after some well needed rest and recovery, Jack found himself on the beach standing fifty yards away from a stranger [You]. With the sun still high in the sky and the waves crashing into the shore there was nothing for miles around, except the two of them. Assuming the stranger [You] was a threat, Jack chose to take you down with a non lethal attack. With a thought he called forth all four of his mechanical arms at the ready, then proceeded to slam his two lower ones, ‘Curly & Shemp” hard upon the ground. Immediately, a ton of sand was rustled into the air, cutting visibility down to zero, while it showered down like dry rain. Not finished yet, Jack moved his two upper arms, ‘Moe & Larry’ into position in front of him, where he began spinning them around and around, like two giant industrial fans. In effect the fan hit the sand, forcing them forward like a sand storm, hitting his enemy [You] all over, with thousands of tiny little pieces hitting you in every crevasse. If that was not enough the sand cloud would also deprive his enemy [You] without oxygen, hoping that would be enough to put you down for the count!

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StraightShot

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The sand felt warm beneath Flynn’s feet, as the view of the beach was breathtaking. Were it not for the enemy standing fifty yards away from him, it would be a perfect place for a vacation. Unfortunately, he was under attack, as a man with four robotic arms was turning this paradise into a nightmare. To begin, his adversary slammed two of his robotic arms deep into the sand, stirring up a storm cloud that cut visibility down to zero, then proceeded to spin his other two robotic arms in such a way that he turned the cloud into a sandstorm. Within seconds, a forced ten hail of sand was whisking across the beach, barreling towards him as an unstoppable force, striking unmercifully. With less than seconds to react, Flynn pulled forth one of his special little arrows from his quiver, and held it in front of him, with the tip aiming forward. Then with a flick of a finger, he struck the tip releasing a wave of blue energy followed by a crackling sound. Immediately a thin blue wall of energy appeared before him, working as a makeshift shield taking the full brunt of the storm. For the next few minutes the sand collided with it, making the shield pop and crackle as it reacted like a giant bug zapper. But despite the fact it was all that was standing between him and an agonizing death, his technology managed to hold. In the end the last of the bits of the sand in the storm, slowly fell to the ground, as his adversary had fled the scene and without him to supply the wind behind the storm, the sand rested back along the beach from where they came.

Wasting no more time, Flynn quickly spotted another opponent [You] standing along the shore, only a few yards away. Assuming the stranger was a threat, he choose wisely to take him down with a non-lethal attack. With lighting fast reflexes, he drew another arrow from his quiver and laid it across his bow. Then with a tight grip he pulled back on his string. With the use of his eagle eye he locked his enemy [You] in his sights and with a soft breath he let it go. Immediately, the arrow flew forward, whizzing along at a speed that rivaled a bullet, with a tip that grew brighter every second. Then half way between him and the target, the tip of the arrow began to split. In an instant it spread out wider and wider with a finite steel net growing inside larger and larger. Soon enough all that was left was a steel net twice the size of a human being, closing down on [You] at an arching angle. Then just to make it worse, as the net was closing in, the faint sound of electricity humming could be heard, as the steel net contained a charge of 50,000 volts, easily enough to put down a full grown male. His plan was simple, subdue the threat without causing any permanent damage. But as it seemed common to make a comment, quip, or battle cry at a moment like this, the only statement he choose to make, was with a soft inflection, as he muttered the words, “Gotcha!

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NightBreaker

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Just as the man's eyes locked on Marcus, his eyes locked on the archer. The two trapped in a game of chicken and even as the archer laid his arrow across his bow, Marcus continued to stare him down as an act of defiance. Unfortunately for the muscle bound mentalist, he made the all to common mistake of under estimating his opponent, for as the arrow soared in closer, he was already positioned to catch it in midair, snap it in half with the slightest of pressure, followed by another intimidating look through his mask. But as the arrow began to split open, then spread out to reveal a steel lined web netting, he knew immediately he needed to change his plan. With less than seconds to react, he moved by impulse, setting aside logic and reason, for plain simple survival, for if he successfully avoided the net, there would be plenty of time to form a strategic plan later. Moving at an incredible speed, rivaling that of a peak human athlete, as he reaches for his gun holstered over his shoulder, and charges it up to 4. Then, by habit, he cocks his gun, giving off the well known intimidating sound, and fires three blasts of compressed energy back at the incoming net.

In an instant the two forces collided, with light and energy crackling around like fireworks on the fourth of July. The force from his gun neutralizing the force of the net, with an over powering charge. In the end all the electricity fizzled out, quite quickly flickering away into nothingness as the light simply faded away. Unfortunately for Marcus this was not a victory, but merely a postponement as the residual traces energy slipped through the openings of the net, leaving the net uncharged but still a threat. For as far as he could tell the net could be anything from titanium to adamantium, and this time he was not going to underestimate his opponent. Putting everything he had into one kick, he pushed off from his right foot, and makes a quick dash to his side and hopefully out of the way. Ignoring everything else, he focused only on his sprint, racing one foot in front of the other until his mind and body was at one racing away. At the last second he could hear the sound of a steel net digging into the sandy beach behind him, tossing sand around like confetti. Lucky for Marcus, by shear luck he escaped by the skin of his teeth, as the netting came closing in by a hair. One second earlier the net would have entrapped his foot, even cutting into his flesh if possible.

Coming to an abrupt halt, he turned back in time to see a new opponent [You] standing on the battlefield and immediately turned to engage. Beginning with a mad sprint in your direction he charged forth, bobbing and weaving in a hope to avoid any long range attacks. But as his skin is near indestructible and moves with bullet dodging speed, his chances of reaching you were high. Still moving forward, he would hopefully use his momentum for a devastating attack. If he were to reach you he would then, at the moment he stood right before you, he would clasp his two hands together, forging one mighty fist. Then with his powerful legs he jump into the air, still clenching his fist and come down right on top of you. Never once taking his eyes off you, he would bring his one fist down upon your cranium, with enough force to split your skull wide open, or at the least, cause a severe hemorrhage. The fact was, if achieved, it would cause a life threatening blow, that he would have no remorse for, should he succeed.

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Charlemagne

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#1129  Edited By Charlemagne

@nightbreaker:

Instantly photographic relaxes began to instinctively read the motion based information resonating off the changing and deadly juggernaut. Even with the attacker's rudimentary straight forward charge there were intricate muscle machinations that could be cataloged and added later. Even nothing more then automatic anticipation. Should the charge be implemented in a sequel attack.

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To the naked eye the massive mountain's sprint could be considered as an impressive athletic achievement, stationed at the height of modern human ability. But to Charlemagne, self-proclaimed master of martial arts Darwinism, a human who was scientifically fast forwarded along the evolutionary ladder, a peak human was no more impressive then a baseline human.

He stoically stood still as the attacker explosively launched himself with brute energy. Waiting until the perfect window of opportunity arrived. He was older now, slower. Instincts had faded, strength and athleticism handicapped by age. No longer able to get by simply on improvisation and youthful talent. Every action needed to be on point. No wasted energy. No wasted motion.

So Charlemagne stood as if frozen in time. And as the breaker of men came thundering down seeking to crash his massive fists ontop, and possibly through Charlemagne's head, he shot his left arm upwards in an insane attempt to intercept the more powerful foe's fists with his own. Waiting until the last possible second to unleash *snikt* the Aethruim claws housed inside his knuckles.

Mirroring Vibranium in many ways, Aethrium's key feature remains its ability to absorb energy as well as releasing said energy in a controlled manner. Unbreakable, thus far, Charlemagne was more then confident the razor sharp blades would impale themselves deep into the giant's own fists.

And should the Nighbreaker land as predicted in front of the mutant slaying zealot, he would seek to plunge his right claw *snikt* aided hand deep into his adversary's abdomen disemboweling him on the spot.

Without hesitation Charlemagne swung around sidearming his left hand for a vicious swing seeking to decapitate the new arrival. He had sensed something behind him. There was no pause. No speech. Just an animalistic out of control swing with the speed of an Ultra-Sapien aiming to take his newest opponent's head clean off.

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NightBreaker

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@charlemagne:

Not my best work, but I hope you enjoy!

With the fury of all his strength, Marcus came crashing down upon his victim. His hands clasped together as one. Although a rudimentary attack, it was still one with merit and should his fist collide, the damage would be immeasurable. Already on top of him, Marcus kept his eyes locked on his prey, never looking away no matter what the distraction, for the simple reason, he wanted to see his enemies spine break upon collision. It was a rather odd obsession of his, but one that suited him well. With only seconds away from collision, Marcus flexed his muscles for extra impact as he gripped his fist tighter. In his world, all that was left was the inevitable. To his surprise, his prey did not whimper in fear, or show any sign of defeat, instead he raised his left arm upwards in an attempt to block. But what was odd, was that his enemy raised his hand ‘Knuckles Out!” Immediately, Marcus was perplexed, as the move was not associated with a block or counter strike, but more a direct attack against him. But as he had the higher ground, as well as hopefully superior strength, clearly he had the advantage. Curious but unflinching, Marcus stuck to his plan, and with cold precision, continued his strike.

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Suddenly the street echoed with a *snikt* sound as three metallic claws extended from his enemies fist. Each one beyond razor sharp, and with a trickle of blood, they shined in the light while still looking a deadly threat. Immediately, Marcus needed to rethink his plan, as the claws were a new variable, mixed with the confidence of his prey. Together they meant a threat, one that might possibly mean a weapon strong enough to pierce his near impervious skin. Although unlikely, it was wiser to avoid the claws all together, and use his enemies exposed hand to his advantage, rather than take a chance of being skewered, like a stuck pig! Unable to avoid his downward spiral, in a glorious display of athleticism, he put a new plan into action. If possible, Marcus would use his last remaining seconds to reach out and try to grab his enemies exposed wrist. After releasing his two clasped hands, he would now try to use them both to wrap around his enemies, and use the extra momentum from his decline into enough force as to knock it away or even take his foe to the ground, where he would proceed to apply strike after strike until subdued.

Unfortunately, in the heat of battle, things do not always go as according to plan, and although he managed to avoid his enemies first attack, he was wide open for his second. Again with a *snikt* his enemy attacked, but this time with his right hand, that he jabbed at Marcus’ abdomen with an overly impressive speed. In defense, Marcus spun his left arm down in a counter clockwise motion, in an attempt to parry the attack, unfortunately this time he was not fast enough. By luck he blocked the frontal assault by a hair, but as his arm continued to spin, his enemies claws scratched away on his side. Immediately, and by impulse alone, Marcus pulled back, finding three deep scratches along his hide. But just as the blood dripped from his wounds, it was the emotional scar Marcus had to deal with. Although mere scratches, Marcus had to deal with the fact his near impervious skin had been cut. But unlike most men who might fear an obvious weakness, much like his foe, Marcus did not show signs of fear, but a passion to prove his superiority against a superior enemy. In the end both men stood unwavered, confident in their skills and their ability to read each other.

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But once again his enemy struck, this time with an animal savagery, as he swung strong and wild at his neck. With his wounds already healed over, Marcus countered with a side block, by striking the lower part of his arm against the wrist of his enemy, all in an attempt to knock it away and out of harms way. At the same time Marcus looked for any telltale sign of weakness in his opponent, while considering his best moment to strike. But in such close quarters, the jugular vein always sufficed. Moving at an impressive speed, Marcus reached into his utility belt and with the flick of a wrist, pulled forth a six inch shuriken, that he proceeded to stab in to the exposed side part of {Your} neck. It was not a pretty move, nor done with flair, it was simply a means to an end. But just as he brought the tip of the blade to {Your} neck, he choose to make one of those quips or comments usually given at a moment like this, but because of his upbringing, all he was moved to say was, “You may have been worthy!

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Quintus_Knightfall

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@nightbreaker: (Hate when someone says it isnt there best posts then proceeds to drop some fire lol good stuff

<-----Charlemagne

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Gripper

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Trapped in a close quarters combat, Jack was not at his best. His four mechanical arms usually gave him an advantage in a fight, but not this time. The beast he was slaying was enormous for a man, standing feet above him, with muscles that defied reality. Every inch of his foe was muscles upon muscles, with a tactical mind trained to fight. Despite his best effort, the foe made his way past Jack’s arms, an already impressive feat, but also managed to get in close enough for striking distance with a six inch shuriken. Already the razor sharp steel was inches away from Jacks throat, moving closer by his enemies grip, until finally reaching the flesh. One inch further and Jack would be bleeding like a stuck pig, with blood shooting out of his neck. With less than seconds to react, Jack instinctively grabbed the man’s hands and jerked away with all his might, flexing his upper muscles to their breaking point. But as sad as it is, his enemy easily outclassed him in strength and as such continued to press down. Although it looked bad for the four armed fighter, Jack was not out of the game yet and even as his opponent mocked, “You may have been worthy!” it only fueled him to fight back harder!

By now the veins on Jack’s arms were bulging as the bladed barely began to pierce his skin, as two or three drops of blood trickled down his neck. Despite the overwhelming pressure of such a situation, he somewhat, out of character, kept a clear head and continued to focus. In one last act of defiance, his two upper mechanical arms shot forth, from out of his back and raised up to his exposed neck. The first of the two clamped tight around the shuriken, snapping the blade in two with the slightest of pressure. It was at this point Jack felt it necessary to say, “Pal! I don’t need to be worthy to beat an oversize muscle bound fool like you!” With that said, he cocked back his other mechanical arm and like a snake striking, he managed to sneak it in between him and his adversary, where he proceeded to thrust it forward like a battering ram. In effect it should slam his foe hard, knocking him clear across the room, with the possibility of breaking a few ribs along the way. Either way, Jack took the moment to regather his wits as he mentally called forth his other two mechanical arms for help.

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Ready and eager to fight, he locked eyes on [You] and immediately proceeded to engage. His four arms hovering around him, snapping their clamps together to make a eerie and unforgettable sound. As they stood a few yards apart in an abandoned warehouse, the place was full of old worn out equipment and cobwebs. Assuming [You] was an easy target, Jack decided not to engage in combat, but literally bring the house down upon [You]. In an impressive display of strength he sent his four arms on a mission, to grab the nearest pillars holding the warehouse together. With two mechanical arms wrapped tight around two separate pillars, he began pulling them in hard and with the strength of Samson. Immediately, the building began to shake as dust flew from every corner and with a ‘creaking’ sound the place began to fall. Soon a full five story out of date building would be falling down on top of [You], with [You] trapped in the middle. But just as Jack was about to escape by flying out a window along the top floor, he left [You] behind with a subtle nod, almost hoping [You] would find a way out. “Until next time, pal!” he says as he flies away, just in time to see the warehouse come crashing down upon itself.

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ShadowGuard

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It was bad enough the building was falling down on top of him, but did the guy really have to say, “Until next time, pal!!” From the moment the six armed man proceeded to pulled on the warehouse pillars the roof came crumbling down. Beginning with a thin layer of dust and debris, the interior fell, as creaking sounds could be heard all around. Soon enough the entire roof was falling, bringing down several extra floors with it, in a wave of deadly destruction. Unfortunately for Lamont, he was trapped dead center in the building with no easy way out. But with a ton of brick, mortar and warehouse supplies falling down on him like hail, he needed to move fast. Catching a glimpse of a plain glass window on the second floor, he flung his cape like rope and sent an edge of it out and up to the ledge next to it, that had managed not to fall apart quite yet. Then as easy as it whipped across the way, it ensnared around it, snug and tight. Still dancing around the bottom floor in order to avoid falling debris, he tugged on his cape and proceeded to hoist himself up and out of the way, until reaching the window.

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Already chipped and cracked, Lamont dived through it head first with his arms crossed and leading the way. In one glorious instant he smashed through, spreading glass outward in a showering manner. At the same time he leaped out a second story window, only to fall at an exponential rate, to a hard dirt road beneath him. Already in motion he tucked his legs into his chest, and proceeded to preform a series of forward somersaults, until the last second at which he spread his cape wide and turned it into a parachute. Like a giant black bird he landed with his cape spread out far and wide, almost three times it’s normal size. Then like a shadow fading in the dark, it shrunk down to it’s normal size where Lamont twirled it around him, shaking off the thick layer of dust collected from inside the warehouse. All that was left was to make a dramatic exit, as he slowly yet methodically walked away as the building behind him came crashing down upon itself. Truly like an action star, at the end of a movie, when there is a massive explosion behind him! Especially in slow motion!

Once safe and secure, he noticed the presence of another stranger [you] standing nearby in an open field. Around him/her there was no place to hide other than a crop of wheat growing up knee high. Seeing the stranger as a threat, with lighting speed Lamont drew his dual .45-caliber pistols and before you knew it he cocked the hammer back and laid out a suppressing fire. Immediately, round after round was shot, following a repeating ‘Bang” or “Pow” sound. But the trick to the Shadowguard’s attack was that the bullets were shot from the outside, in! Instead of shooting directly where his enemy was and risk the chance he/her could dodge to a side, his shots were designed to trap him inside! Therefore each shot, though appearing reckless, would eventually in time trap [you] inside, with no place to go. But as always, once the first shot was fired, as always, Lamont would follow up with his trademark eerie laugh, known to strike fear in others!

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Diz_Flotsam

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#1134  Edited By Diz_Flotsam

The weapons of this world were still strange to Diz. Sure, she had seen guns back home. But they were nothing compared to these, where even the most simple firearm was fast and deadly enough to turn a total incompetent into a killer. And the cloaked man who had opened fire on her seemed like anything but incompetent; he fired a seemingly erratic flurry of shots at her, but something seemed off. He didn't move like someone who fired at random, he moved like someone who wanted her to think he was firing at random.

The first few shots went wide, giving her just long enough to whisper a guttural phrase in the infernal tongue. She finished her spell and the power of a tornado began to course through her veins. Now even those bullets looked like they were moving in slow motion. Anyone watching her would have only been able to register a teal blur as she wove through the hail of gunfire, her magically enhanced speed giving her enough time to pick a safe path through the expertly laid trap.

As soon as she clocked the sound of empty chambers, Diz broke to the right and sprinted for the nearby ruins of the collapsed building. If this guy wanted a fight then it was going to be on her terms She hopped, ducked, and slid her way through the rubble, then made a hard turn and pressed her back against a partially intact wall and drew her swords. Then she waited, and listened.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

There. Footsteps. Someone was coming towards her. She waited, poised to strike while the power of her spell remained. 15 feet. 10 feet. 5 feet.

Diz stepped round the corner, throwing a quick stramazzone into a cut, followed by a flurry of cuts and thrusts from both swords. The first attack that connected would carry the explosive force of her spell, and then once her new friend was injured she was well-versed in how to apply pressure to make each new hit hurt even more.

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Darkchild

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Blows raspberry

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Diz_Flotsam

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Darkchild

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No was just being a smart ass

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deactivated-5fcab2f88a72f

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Backstabber

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deactivated-5fcab2f88a72f

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@backstabber:Batman sees it coming for him in slow motion.

He flicks it aside easily

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Backstabber

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ShadowGuard

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Stealth was the name of the game, and Lamont was a master of it. The only way for him to move more silently was to be a ghost. But on this rarest of occasions, he was not concealing his movements, rather walking among others as one of them. Still standing outside the fallen warehouse, he took only a moment to look over the carnage. Over seventy percent of the building was gone, leaving behind only a few standing walls and a battlefield filled with it’s debris. But none of that mattered, at least not now. For just shortly after opening fire on an unidentified individual, he caught a glimpse of that stranger heading back into the rubble, at a frightening speed. With that in mind, Lamont crept his way forward, keeping a vigilant eye out for any signs of danger, with both of his duel .45-caliber in his hands. With each step he drew closer, ready to shoot at a moments notice, even cocking the hammer back on his guns to save time. But as careful as he was, he was arrogant, never once thinking that his adversary could be hiding behind the nearest wall and even mores so, that he was armed.

With just one step, Lamont fell into a trap, as he moved into his enemies sight, as he walked past a remaining wall. As planned, standing and waiting there was his enemy, with sword in hand and struck hard by throwing a quick stramazzone down upon him. From Lamont’s point of view it was fast, almost a blur and were it not for his advanced training he would be dead. But as a trained fighter, and master of the Shadow Training, he had the briefest of chances to survive. With no other option, he raced to place his guns in the swords path, in the hopes of blocking them and by a hair managed to get just the tips in the way. But upon contact, unknown to Lamont, his enemy had the added advantage of a spell coming down with him. Immediately, a “Boom” rang out as a force of wind collided against Lamont’s guns, sending him flying back with great force. For an instant he was airborne, tumbling backwards from the concussive force, until finally hitting the ground where he rolled and fumbled to a stop.

Suffering only a few cuts and scrapes, he quickly jumped up to his feet, as he shook off the cobwebs from the blow. By a miracle, he managed to hold on to both his guns, which were already cocked and ready to fire. All he needed now was a target. By sheer luck an individual [You] was spotted fifty yards away just outside the rubble. Locking his eyes on him, Lamont aimed his .45-caliber guns dead center at the stranger's chest, right were the heart would be located. But just before pulling the trigger, he activated the power of his ‘Blood Stone.” In an instant, a powerful red glow resonated from his ring, his eyes, as well as the barrels of both his guns. They were now more than before, charged with a mystic energy, with a blast measuring anywhere from a sting to a force that could destroy a mountain. It was all under his mental control. With the pull of a trigger, he sent one blast, powerful enough to tear through concrete, at his enemy, just to see what would happen next. But whatever it was, he would then continue to fire round after round of his mystic energy blasts until there were no signs left of his enemy [You]!

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deactivated-5fb2038730eb3

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Death was imminent. Soroshi knew it long before the red hot round left the barrel of the gun. He didn't bother evading it, holding his odachi limply at his side as the first blast punched a searing hole through his chest.

The doom-fated ronin wasn't granted a moment of reprieve as a storm of crimson energy tore his mottled flesh asunder. In moments Soroshi was reduced to a scorch upon the grassy plain, the very molecules of his mortal form scattered in the blast's destructive wake.

Only the odachi remained. It lay still for a moment.

And then it shot up above the ground, as though reeled by a thread. Discolored blood oozed from the pristine blade, pooling around the charred spot where the sword's master once stood.

This continued for several minutes, as more and more blood muddled with a dark, tar-like substance gathered in that one spot. Before long, a thick circle of corrupted ichor covered the scorch.

The waterfall of red and black issuing from the sword stopped. And then, blade fell.

A hand shot up out of the circle of ichor, catching the odachi by the hilt. A hand covered in thin, mottled skin that appeared stretched over bone.

Soroshi emerged from the circle like a bat out of hell, looking more gaunt than ever before. He brandished the odachi at his side - the blade that had cut a gateway through the netherworld to free its undead wielder - and eyed his adversary (you).

He brought his sword up, and sent it slashing through the air. A large, crescent shaped blast of unearthly energy issued from the sword, racing towards (you). If it hit, the crescent would not cut at all, as intended by swords. It would phase harmlessly through the target, through all matter of this world...

...behind the target, however, a circular rift to the netherworld would open - a void-like portal intended to pull the target into its inky depths, not unlike a black hole.

#MaximumEdgy

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Gripper

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Jack was never one to run from a fight, except on those rarest occasion when it was wise to make a tactical retreat. But this case was different. The enemy he was fighting was like none he had ever seen, like something out of ones nightmares. Therefore Jack could not get a read on him and judge how big of a threat he was. But as his enemy handled his blade with pin point precision, it was clear Jack needed the help of his four Stooges. At the exact moment his enemy came crashing down with his blade in hand, Jack countered with his two upper mechanical arms. With a thought ‘Moe’ and “Larry’ sprung from his back, out and around, until they both positioned themselves in front of him like two steel crossed arms, capable of blocking any incoming attack of any lesser dense material. Still preparing for the incoming blow, Jack strategically planted his left foot back for added leverage while at the same time tensing his muscle. All that was left to do was hold fast and let the sword collide, and hope to God the two Stooges would hold. Then and only then would he counter attack, most likely with the aid of either “Curly’ or ‘Shemp’! But never, in his entire life, would Jack have expected what was about to happened next.

In that one briefest of moments, Jack stared deep into his enemies eyes, refusing to show any sign of fear, until the sword met his arms. Instantly Jack felt a cold sensation sweep his body, as everything human about him went numb. To his surprise the sword did not strike, but instead traveled through his arms and downward through his body, leaving Jack with that rare feeling as if someone was walking over his grave. Never before had he felt a sensation like this, he was unequipped to handle it. For his entire body was shutting down. But if that wasn’t bad enough, at the same time as Jack was having his fit, a huge gust of wind pulled at him from behind. Unknown at the time, a giant circular rift to the netherworld opened behind him, that immediately sucked the life out of the area before it. Jack’s feet were literally yanked from off the ground, and had his full body pulled into the void, feet first. With every passing second he could feel an eerie presence on the other side tugging at his soul, even though only his feet had passed through the portal. But like a fool he immediately panicked, as he flailed his mortal arms around, all the while being pulled into the netherworld faster and faster!

Now seventy percent into the void, all that was left was his head and shoulders to be pulled in and he would be trapped forever. At the same time the portal was closing up. It was now roughly the size of a manhole cover, and shrinking every second. With no time to waste, he shot Moe and Larry forward, through the open rift, using their stronger than steel claws to dig deep in the Earth. Using them as anchors he quickly halted the pull and began pulling himself out. Unfortunately by now the portal was closing in around him, but with the aide of Curly and Shemp, he began prying it open with the might of their arms. For as they each grabbed a side of the portal, they pushed back against it long enough for him to reach the outside. With one last tug he pulled himself back to the subtle grass of the land where he finished with a tuck and roll, while recoiling all the Stooges back inside of him. Taking only a second or two to catch his breath, he quickly shook off the cobwebs and got his mind back into the game. It was then he saw a new enemy [You] standing nearby, a few feet in front of a forest. With no time to waste, he took an offensive stance, and summoned all four of his Stooges out and ready to fight. Immediately, Moe shot out like a snake trying its best to strike with a blunt tip and knock [You] down, or at the least distract [You] for what came next. Waiting for their turn to strike, Curly and Shemp struck next by firing blast after blast of energy down on [You] until the battlefield was a scorched Earth. Finally It was up to Larry, who came in swinging like a bat, coming from [Your] far right, through to [Your] left side. Should he strike, he would no doubt do some serious damage!

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Scoundrel

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In one brief moment attacks came from all sides, as the Scoundrel stood yards away from a man with four mechanical arms, each coming in in a different way. As the most obvious was a single one coming in from above like a battering ram, it soared downward with it’s blunt tip leading the way. Should it strike it could do considerable damage, as it appeared to have enough force to knock his head off. With less than seconds to react, Conrad quickly ran an agility program through his head and in an instant became a master in gymnastics, even above an Olympic athlete. Immediately, he leaned to his right while kicking off with his left foot and in the blink of an eye proceeded to do a perfect cartwheel just as the mechanical arm came slamming down, right where he once stood. Then just as the arm’s tip slammed into the ground knocking dirt and debris everywhere, Conrad continued to flip and twirl to his right. But just as he avoided the first arm by a hair, two others began open firing on him with one energy blast after another. Still running the agility program, Conrad countered the attack with an impressive display, of leaps and bounds centered around flips and twirls of all kinds. Unfortunately for him his enemy had the advantage, as he could continue blasting away long after Conrad would tire.

With no other option, with the wave of his hand he created a thin but sturdy invisible shield before him, to take the brunt of the blasts. For the next few seconds the battlefield lit up as each blast hit the shield where they collided then fissiled out like fire works disappearing in mid air. Unfortunately, by the time Conrad thought the attack was over, another of his enemies mechanical arms came swinging in like a bat. From the right side it looked more of a blur than anything else, but as it continued closing in it was seen as a threat. Already inches away from splitting Conrad in two, he immediately preformed another overly impressive athletic feat, as he turned his body into a living corkscrew. In one brief instant he leaped up and instead of just soaring over the arm, he made his body spin around and around in a twirling motion, while still in a single vertical space. In the end his body spun while the arm soared underneath virtually a harmless threat. But just after the mechanical arm passed by out of harms way, Conrad safely landed on the ground in a flawless three point stance, with his free hand holding his quarterstaff ready for some overdue payback.

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But by shear bad luck, the man with the mechanical arms was no longer anywhere to be seen, with only the destructive force from his energy blast to prove he was ever there. Immediately, Conrad let out a low grunt as he was denied his chance for revenge and even gripped his staff tighter in anger. Then for some unknown reason, he noticed a new figure [You] standing a few yards behind him just at the outset of the woods. Quickly shifting to a combat program in his head, he swung his staff around his back then over his shoulder, after which he jested, “Now is not a good day to cross a Scoundrel.” With a stern look under his helmet he charge towards [You] at a slightly above peak human speed, while continually twirling his staff around in an impressive manner. But as a scoundrel he needed to be sure his target [You] would be there when he arrived. Therefore with a thought he attempted to create a tiny thin invisible shield around his prey [You] much like another layer of skin, that would leave [You] trapped inside and unable to move. If so he would then, at the exact moment he would be in striking range he would lower the shield for only a second. For at that one exact glorious moment Conrad would plant one end of his quarter staff into the ground and like a pole vaulter, would launch in to the air so that he could slam both of his size eleven boots deep into [Your] chest, hoping to end the fight quickly and with as little damage as possible.

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Kaizergenocide

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(I'd like to make this easier and shorter than the ones above this post)

As the thin invisible shield started to form, Kaizer knew that someone wants him "at the right place at the right moment" so to speak. With his ability to create an illusion of his physical self and teleport at the same time, Ashura Senku, Kaizer made it looked like he was helplessly trapped waiting for the heavy blow coming from above.

Ashura Senku
Ashura Senku

At the moment the attack is a second away from hitting "the target", Kaizer executed the said move, manifesting as an intangible spirit like form, while charging his Ki from both fists while distancing of about 5 meters away.

Now, as the attack attempted on Kaizer was not exactly a direct hit, the ground shook for a while and dusts burst around as the heavy force took on the ground and minor shockwave occurred. As the cloud of dusts almost cleared and [Your] head started lifting up and also raising [your] body from a kneeling position, [Your] vision started focusing on a growing-glowing light. Kaizer at almost 100% of his charging time at a position ready to unleash a Kaizer Wave; a charged Ki at a size of a bus!, ready to release in barely two seconds, targeting [you].

Kaizer Wave
Kaizer Wave

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Gripper

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No Caption Provided

Before Jack knew it the ground beneath him began to shake, as if it was coming to life. For what seemed like an eternity he was shook around as rocks and boulders levitated around him. Soon enough a thick fog of debris layered the battlefield, with Jack caught at ground zero, and even as the ground underneath him was ripping apart, he steadied himself by planting all four of his mechanical arms deep into the ground. For the next few minutes, he rocked back and forth as the Earth shook around him, taking only slight damage as tiny jagged rocks cut and scraped against him, as the danced around him like a swarm of deadly bees. But as soon as one rock cut it’s way through his flesh, the wound would heal seconds after the first drop of blood fell. Although this occurrence took only a minute or two, to Jack it seemed like an eternity, and it wasn’t until the smoke settled down, that he fell to a knee. Taking in a deep breath, he rises up to find the place in shambles, with the ground literally opened up, but none of that was as important as the ever brightening light resting just above him!

Immediately Jack spun around, just in time to catch a man hovering low in the sky, lighting up like a candle. From head to toe a powerful glow of energy resonated around the stranger, that eerily grew brighter the stronger he got. At one point the glow was so bright that Jack had to shield his eyes, in order to remain looking up. But among all the impressive display of light and power, Jack was still able to notice the increase in energy resonating around the strangers hands. Like the glow it was easily a sign of an incoming attack, forcing Jack to immediately counter. Now around the size of a bus, the construct around the stranger’s hand, was popping and crackling with enough energy to lay waste to the surrounding area. With little to no options left, Jack summoned all four of his mechanical arms before him and by lapping one on top of the other he formed a small but sturdy wall. Then as planned, at the moment the stranger released his blast, his arms would not only block the attack, but absorb it as well. For the next few remaining seconds, Jack’s mechanical arms would continue to glow brighter as the incoming attack would glow dimmer.

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Unfortunately for Jack the massive amount of energy his ‘Stooges’ were absorbing was getting critical even after the amount safely transferred through his body. In the end, it was so much that he was forced to aim his arms skyward and release it through their tips in the form of four rays of light. But just as the last bit of the absorbed energy shot skywards, Jack was more than ready to go as the energy he siphoned through his body was invigorating. But by dumb luck the stranger was no were in sight, neither flying high above, or standing somewhere on the battlefield. In the end all Jack could find was another stranger [You] standing on a pile of rocks just a few feet away. Wasting no more time, Jack struck, with all four of his mechanical arms, each one coming in from a different way. Leading with ‘Moe’ his upper right arm, he swung it out like a bat, but instead of aiming it at the stranger [You], it collided with the mound of rock [You] were standing on, smashing it to powder and hopefully forcing [You] to lose your footing. Either way, should [You] fall prey or avoid, the other three stooges would strike like pythons, following [You] around where ever you go while trying to ensnare [You] tight in their grasp.

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Backstabber

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Standing like a fool, Jason rested on a pile of rocks with his head in the clouds and his hands scratching his butt. To him it was any other Tuesday except for the fact he hadn’t had sex in four hours. With less than twenty bucks in his wallet he stood there contemplating on how to get more, when slowly he noticed a man standing a few yards away. Without hesitation he mocked the stranger, “Hey Jerk Face, you got any money?” while throwing out his chest to look intimidating. When suddenly the stranger attacked with the aid of four mechanical arms, that struck fast like snakes. Before Jason knew it, the pile he was standing on was demolished as one arm came smashing through, forcing him to fumble around as he fell from his height. With dirt and pebbles flying everywhere, he fell flat on his a$$, with a loud ‘thud’, just as the dust began to settle. Sure enough he landed in an unflattering position, surrounded by loose rock and a faint smell of urine. “You son of a B’tch!” he yelled while covering the pee stain in the front of his pants, “Do you know who I freaking am!?!?!” But even before he could finish his sentence, the strangers three other mechanical arms came swooping in, with their tips snapping and clamping in a very aggressive manner!

Immediately, Jason was caught in a fury of steel and wind, with each arm striking at him from different directions. But in true Backstabber fashion, the first one came crashing in from the left side, striking him in the hip, smashing it and taking him down in one blow. As soon as he heard the bones break he fell like a load of bricks, whining out loud about the pain as he rolled back and forth, letting out every curse word he ever heard. But just as quickly as the bone broke, it healed over and just in time for the other two mechanical arms to come swinging in from the right. Still whining, he did his best to avoid the attack by crab walking back on his butt as fast as his two cheeks could carry him. Therefore with a little help from his mutant powers, he raced back at an impressive speed, just a hair past peak human. But as he was traveling along by the power of his legs and butt cheeks, it was a very undignified way to move. In the end he managed to scoot away just as the mechanical arms snapped at his heels, until either out of their range or until his adversary just gave up. Either way Jason back scooted across a pile of rubble, with over dozens of loose pebbles finding their way up his crack. But as he was one never to admit he was losing, he eventually jumped up to his feet shouting “Take that Jerk face” while doing his best to wiggle the pebbles loose from his a$$.

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Lucky for him, the stranger with the mechanical arms was no longer in sight, leaving Jason to utter the words, “Still Winning!” as he cautiously looks around to make sure he was gone and not hiding. It was then he saw [You] standing a few yards away, and in Jason’s normal state of mind, he saw [You] as an enemy and even possibly laughing at him. In a fit of rage he reached for his gun shouting “Don’t you laugh at me you Jerk Face!” only to find it missing from his holster. In a frantic state he began looking in the same rubble he had just crawled upon, tossing rocks left and right in search for his only 9mm. By luck he finds it one minute later scratched up and covered in dust. Wasting no more time he aims it dead center of [Your] eyes shouting, “Oh you’re gonna get what’s coming” after which he unloads the full clip in [Your] direction. Unfortunately in its damaged condition, the gun misfired, leaving nothing more than a ‘clicking’ sound and one very ticked off Backstabber! With no other option, he looked around for any way out, and by sheer luck noticed a Big Rig 18 wheeler with the key still in the ignition. Like a bat out of hell he jumped behind the wheel, revved the engine and for the sheer fun of it honked the horn several times, giving him a erection every time. But just as he was about to race away as fast as the Rig can run, it dawned on him he had a 80,000 pound weapon under his seat. Fueled with a shirt eating grin, he slammed down on the gas, aimed the Rig in your direction and shouted as loud as he could, “Eat hot death” as he tried his best to run [You] over!

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Doomshroud

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#1150  Edited By Doomshroud

Shroud moved like the wind, limbs fueled by adrenaline and various cybernetic enhancements. As the rig came tearing down the road like a freight train, the mercenary sprang high into the air, narrowly avoiding the initial impact.

With only moments before he plummeted back down onto the roving wheeler, he fired a grappling hook from his wrist, steam hissing from the compartment. The grapnel embedded itself in a nearby gargoyle erected on the side of a building [why this city had so many, he couldn't figure out, but he was grateful]. He felt a lurch as it reeled him in, practically flinging him through the air.

The hook disconnected as he cleared the rooftop. He landed in a graceful roll, breathing out a sigh of relief hidden by the grey visage set atop his face.

His eyes darted about, already moving to unholster his sidearm. Several red flags went up in his mind as he laid eyes on [you]. Raising his pistol, he fired a burning salvo of hollow point bullets at his adversary, aiming for the head.