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Valucre

Cylewen

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About Cylewen

  • Rank
    Fiend
  • Birthday 01/27/1991

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    ladyxaranea
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    cylewen#0475

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  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    Hyurlaen Falls
  • Occupation
    Animation Studio Director

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  1. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    The Festival of Love Hostility would never be found as those coming to her aid would eventually stand down, and meander back to doing as they would. Several caravans had popped up around the edge of the clearing, large rounded mobile wagons that forefronted a canopy made of leather and two sticks that stabbed the earth with rapturous glee. In and out, small forms would enter and create a cacophony of sound. Fires lit and breathed as the night was slowly passing. Chatter filled as white noise and Alicia could not stop her smile. “Ah… Itou… Ah.” She pondered how she was going to formulate her next words. Would they even make sense? Did this man deserve an explanation? It would be a point of interest to take note that she would not know the events that had transpired after the Paragons had been restored, but instead she would only cross her arms over her chest. Just as swiftly as she had appeared to Lee, her clothing shaped into that of a longer attire of black leather trews and a long buckled coat. A shrug finally rolled from her. “I can tell you that we are indeed in Valucre, a few kilometers—maybe less—from Last Chance. I’m heading…” She shrugged again, turning on the ball of her feet, she’d beckon him with a smile and start heading toward one of the open flames. Three logs sat around the pyre, flames roared at the air with vicious tongues that lapped for energy. The closest log was offered for her and another to him; she would lean into her own, a nice privy moment from everybody else was absolutely necessary to provide him with the details that he may be interested in. “Simply put… There are worlds outside of this one. Unfortunately—and fortunately—I was offered a mission to come here and track down two abominations that harbored the fragments of a Titan. Now… things get kind of tricky when I decided to be lazy, because they were just worthless kids, why should I have to actually expend my own energy to get them? So I fragmented parts of my souls and created these things known as Avatars. Presumably… you met my Avatar of War, and apparently fertility, my much younger self. And then there was Justice…” Her hand shaped her jaw as she thought of her. Justice was a woman born of creativity and heart, strength and power, but Justice craved to create; whether or not that included her body, she ached to be remembered. “Alas, neither accomplished either goal. Now I have two runts to hunt down: either putting a sword into their throat, or banishing them…” She trailed off. Ahem—Right. An apology. “Personally, I am quite sorry you were dragged into this. But if my memory serves me right, you are from the land known as Genesaris, yes? After I meet with my informant in a bit, I will be heading to a tower located in the Cold Mountains region if you would like a way back home. Unless you have other means to teleport or whatnot, it’d be nice to travel with acquaintances, yes?” Her voice was just a slight tenor deeper, and that unnerved her for some reason. Alicia was never one to be known to raise the pitch of her voice when talking to someone she bore interest in, so when her tone remained uninflected… she pondered its meaning.
  2. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    The Queen of Bile Seph’s head hung over the edge of the couch, her blonde hair cascading like a river bathed in sunlight. Pleasure seared through her body like tiny fingers that danced over her skin, each little stroke she felt pulling a gentle gasp from her throat. It was always a temptation to give into the serenity of feelings, it was even more a temptation to give the one who made her feel this way the pleasure of her lips croaking a sound of indecency. Lips parted, a rush of air, teeth found flesh and ruby droplets dribbled down her jaw. The intensity rose and roared within her, a fiery volcano that promised to erupt. A singular fist found matted brown hair, and she jerked her lover closer to the heat between her legs. Hips bucked in vicious need as the volcano hit the caps, so did her mind find elucidation. The heaven parted ways, and Seph shuddered with rapid convulsions. A single sigh passed the moment and she lowered her eyes to the creature beneath her. He was not exactly a pretty thing with scars ruining his face in various gashes that left swiss cheese for appetizing, but he had his uses. She shoved him back to the floor and moved to straddle him. Taking care to poise that villainous spear to her sex, she smirked. “Caim, did you happen to find that villainous wretch who hunts my glyph?” Caim’s lips turned into a smile, he could not speak, but Seph found that to be far more useful. Expressions were… however, quite delicious, her hips lowered and she created her own. The Festival of Love They called him silver eyes. Or that was the name the troupe had given him. He was bent over his instrument, a strange object that protruded with pipes and strings, a hole filling the middle where sound could escape with the thrum of each digit. To Alicia, the sound was absolutely beautiful, to others it was a cause for a feast. Mr. Silver Eyes, or Baldric as she affectionately knew him as played his music with compositing glory. She hummed to the song she had heard a thousand times before. A tale of the twin stars that collided, creating the very Multiverse about them, over eight hundred billion collections coming together for a single purpose and single mind. Families created of each star, wars beginning to claim those stars, and soon it began all over again. It was supposed to be a tragedy, but Alicia never really saw it as that. Instead she saw it as a means of time constantly arraying to fix itself, to ensure that every death began anew… just in another point in time. A sound emerged and drew her attention, she looked over the festival. Nearly sixty people had gathered, each of them varying builds and races. Though hating to admit it, it consisted mainly of their unit. There were eighteen of them sent from a faraway land, beget to recover a stolen artifact that had been sealed deep within the relics of a land known as Genesaris. However, when the boundaries between the worlds had become unstable: they arrived here, and at a much later date, of course they were not aware of this until they noticed the alignment. And so did the alignment continue, adjusting for every single person that did not belong. Once immortals now mortal, immunities were granted brief protection, and the aether that powered their gem stones were sucked dry, running on limited fuel. Mana seemed to be entirely the power consistence and the transfer rate was much slower than they were used to. The leylines forced a jurisdiction that they could not remove, and so they went with it. After enough testing, she was still a shadewalker and a mimic, so that was all she cared for. Another sound. She stood up quickly and stepped off the raised platform bleachers. Gentle feet pressed upon the grass, causing blades to yield to her impressive callouses. Someone shouted her name but she held up a hand, and swept back her eyes raven hair. An amethyst gaze warded the area, and she saw someone headed their direction. Could this person actually see them? A soft jump scored her several yards, another brought her closer and soon she was at perimeter of the wold. Her head gave a curious tilt as moonlight soon came, and as random people who had waded their way in to see the troupe had flickered in and out of existence. The alignment solidified, partitioning in everyone at once and Alicia felt a cold slime go down her back, and she knew they were trapped until they found the breacher. Until then… this newcomer, she made her way over to him with light travel and soon would find him. “Who… are…” Her brain seized and she gasped, staggering a fist to her forehead. Memories flooded her in a complete instant, drawing her in and filling her mind. A young girl at the beach with her appearance had met this man… They spoke… She got lost. They came to a city, a battle in the restaurant, Uriel… No, that was not Uriel… that was… She clenched her fists, she was taken… swept away into a sea. Where did she go? She heard voices shouting, a few men rushing over to her and she held up a hand to stop them as her posture straightened. A gaze fell onto Aurelius, her lips curved into a flashing smile. Alicia knew this man. “Aurelius! So you saved me, after all? I am so happy to hear that!” Should Aurelis call back to the woman way back, he would notice only a few visual differences. Unlike the so-called Avatar that Uriel had claimed, Alicia was slightly older. Nearing her thirties with shoulder-length black hair that surrounded her like a crown, her violet eyes less pronounced and darker. Though in her usual fashion, she wore a long white dress that clung to her body, hugging a thin waist and round hips. A svelte frame danced onto one foot briefly and she continued her smile. “Come, let us have a drink and you can tell me all that happened.” They were, after all, back in the Wilds of Terrenus unchanged.
  3. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    The Festival of Love The rubble exploded upward of fifty thousand miles into the air! Or so proud Rideaux thought as he rolled out of the stone mound that surrounded him, and the rest of this miserable fucking place. Blood was spat there, ankles dragged there, and he crawled to the pitiful glory that he called his second in command. The bloodied bruiser was beaten to snot and smithereens, his teeth laying in a heap in every direction that the Cosmos themselves would be proud to say they were stars. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Rideaux smacked him! He slapped him! He bent down and bit at his eyes, and then he tossed his head, a guttural sound left him in a vicious cry that would sent the most curdling wolves to their dens. He rolled to his back, grasping at his chest with hurdled breaths. Gasping, he finally sat up; standing took a moment later, and Rideaux traveled around the torn down Garrison. He could barely recall the concussive force… Wait. Why am I not dead? Rideaux looked over his arms, the sleeves torn into jagged edges, armor ripped aside to unveil blackened fragments sputtering like pus from his wounds. Squealing from the sight, Rideaux shook his arm and glanced again to see the armor was unkissed by damage, shining as brilliant as ever. Silver. Prideful. Articulate. Worry not, my child. You have only glimpsed into what I have in store for you. Your pitiful vessel is starting to falter already. The voice echoed within, and Rideaux screeched. “What the fuck!? You! You caused this! You did this! You! You!” You… Rideaux looked around him. The Garrison was fucking smashed, every little ounce of defenses magical and physical were cluttered into piles of rubble and wooden discard. For the first time since he had risen from the fucking black hole of death, Rideaux felt powerful. Was he immortal? What was this vessel nonsense? Did it matter if Rideaux captured that bouncing little blue cock? These were all questions Rideaux had. He wandered the graveyard in childlike wonder, gleefully giggling at the marks of blood and sigils left behind. Carefully making his way into the blackened obelisk, he had been ejected out of. It was less of its former glory, the insides lacked the mysterious gloom that echoed before. The magical fields were all dispelled, revealing a rather tiresome room that was an eyesore for the mighty Rideaux himself. What was once a mystical staircase that led down a path of wonder, the trapdoor was flecked open and smoke boiled out of it. Hesitating at first, Rideaux thought otherwise, and traversed down the stairs to the pit where a large slab of stone lay. And in the center of that stone was… nothing. “Hey! Voice thing! Is this some sort of fucking joke? What the dicks? Where is the girl? I had plans for her! Where is she!?” Thrashing around the room, Rideaux began throwing various objects, not once thinking that a body as large as the females would fit in the ordinary size of a bucket. “What the fuc—“ Rideaux gagged. The voice boomed. “…! T-Thank you. You have removed the seals, and now we will rise.” The honored guest has arrived, my child. Your vessel shall evolve… beyond your comprehension! Are you excited to finally ascend to Godhood? Your filthy sins shall be purified… You are my … Rideaux screamed. Twas oft naught when a planetary diversion prevented warping… did strange things occur. Twould be the very hands of fate that twisted the Obsidian Butterfly, turning back time and cowering the divergent participants, bullying them without so much thought to negate their own feelings. For it would become soon obvious to the wandering city-man that the world Vayne had dragged twas not exactly their own. Caked boots would not be the very thing that Aurelius should find himself too worried about. For every step he was drawn closer into the Butterfly’s weave. Mayhaps he would notice… was it four times or five times did that very same rock appear? Did that out grove appear to be very reminiscent of the one he passed awhile back? It was very possible that this man was very tired of being dragged through nightmarish shit that he did not deserve an ounce of, that he should be rewarded… after all. In the distance, look! Look there! Do you see? Flames… abound. The sounds of chatter and music breathed life into the forest. Dim campfire would coruscate the surrounding milieu, a grove washed in light as it enticed and beckoned. The smell of food called, the chatter of drink and wine begged, and the safety of the hearth could not have been even more clear. Did this man finally deserve respite? After all he had went through… Perhaps. Finally, when the wyrm had sat himself aperched did Vayne get a moment to herself. Deep breaths were always a forced thing, but she had to take the careful measures. It was only when Aurelius had traveled too far out of sight did Vayne collapse, her fingers raking the mud and blood expelled from her. The pain wracked her lithe frame, causing her a moment of indignity. She had no true way to tell how many heartbeats it took for her to regain her composure, for her to finally sit on her haunches and stare upward to the sky. How many promises did she make to her mother? That she would save her from that tyrant? Memories flashed to the garrison being destroyed, the shockwave that pulsed and brought a wave of resolution to her plans. Cerulean eyes going wide, she let herself shake for a moment. The lives that were lost, that she used for the sheer thought that this world may be capable of helping her. No longer hearing the voice of Aurelius, she wondered where he would go. Perhaps she could catch up to him and recruit him for gold, or sex, or whatever it is these strange barbaric men loved. Hopping to her feet, she turned to head after the fading sound when everything went mute. The area grayed around her very form, and she felt the force first before hearing it. A crackling ripple blasted behind her, halting her in her steps and the shockwave followed. Unlike the one before where she had anticipated and could flee from it, this one smacked her like a brick wall. It drove her to her back, stealing air from her lungs, and forcing her to accept the pain that followed. Dread immediately settled into her mind, and she felt the claws sweep into her. They dug deep, rooting and infesting and the voices pierced. Mnn… C-child… Child of the Gods. We. Are. Free. Images flashed within, like a slideshow they reeled in front of her vision, swimming. A tower in a cold distant mountain, magic pooled into the depths of the explosive crater, and nine figures stood around a depraved center. In the very center of the crater lay a defiled monstrosity, its enormous body was restrained by the Nine; energy being absorbed into the bindings that enslaved it. Vayne whistled… a poor attempt, but she did her best. The wyrm let out a vacuous roar, pitiful and childish, it took off. The Paragons have awakened.
  4. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    For long a while, Vayne just stood there and faced the crystal lake that was laid out in front of her. The way the light hit it was almost as beautiful as the clarity that she was finally having with the situation that she was now in. The circumstances had almost been perfect, there was almost no time left and she would have completed what was needed to be. Yet… It was dragged, no, ripped clawing like a feral beast seeking its freedom. The urgent need to yell, scream, and let loose was there in her mind but she did nothing. Instead she let the bandages fall to the grass; they did not dissolve or show themselves as anything more than cloth. Instead Vayne would spin on her left heel, it was quite important that it was that heel, and she stared at him with an almost impassive gaze. The look of contempt blatant upon her expression, niglets of black and blue creasing toward an almond shaped collusion of eyes. Hold it, hold it, maintain it… and she failed. The expression softened and she gave a gentle sigh. “Oh good. That is all you are worried about. At least there is no grudge,” she retorted while turning back around and heading toward the lake. The hands swept up to guide through her hair, she fixed the wild mop into something tight and cornered, hanging by a leather thong. “The other good news is, you are technically free to go. I personally do not understand why Uriel decided to bring you to the encampment. If anything, we only needed the woman, for our… experiment, I suppose is the best answer. However, thanks to that Ryn-case, I now have to eventually go back and see if our eldritch friend is still alive.” Once by the lake, she would kneel and sweep and scoop, gliding the water to her lips and inhaling a deep drink. If there were any toxins, she certainly did not taste or adhere to them and would finally sit back upon the grass. Arms crossed her chest, pressing upon the meat slops that tended to get in her every way; she stared at the lake in wonder. The anger did build; it surfaced with an almost ugly and primal heading, so much that she was near her limit, but it suppressed after a few breaths. Unbeknownst to her was the trailing glistening down her cheeks, and she let out a soft whistle. The tune was soft, almost a sing-song, but it grew and grew that it began to roll off of Vayne in gentle waves. Just as soon as the whistle started, it stopped, and she would hear the mighty flappings, the giant beatings, and the roaring echo of her partner. The beast landed on the far side of the lake to their left, it collided with branches and sticks alike, crushing and depressing, almost upturning dirt and mud and shit and whatever was there with it. The wyrm like beast began to trample, mighty four pronged hooves that created mud routes in the ground as it made its way to the lithe woman. With a serpentine head, aquiline nose, and flared horns the baby wyrm at almost fifteen meters long with a height about six meters high would let out a whining roar. The tongue darted out, svelte and sticky, dabbing at her side and she would laugh and playfully bat it. Of course, while friendly to Vayne, the wyrm did sense that of Aurelius and began to march to him, halting a few meters away. With an almost voracious roar, the wyrm would hop backwards and spin around after its tail, wings flapping casually as it snarled and then reversed the way it chased its own tail. Vayne smiled. “Aurelius, this is Vax.” The woman, half naked, stood and attended to Vax’s side, grasping out of a brown patch that had been sealed beneath the beast’s mighty left breast, and she fished a cotton tunic to finally suppress her issues, and picked a few things out that were almost essential to her. One was a stick like object with a curved bowl at the end, the other was a knife. Unfortunately, Vax had other plans and rushed, causing her to drop the long pipe and knife, and the bag flung assortments of things including vanity objects. The massive wyrm bunched past Aurelius and then skywardly leapt. “Vax! Get down here!” The large baby slammed into the rushing lake, sending a wave of water this way and that, showering them with such a drench but was lucky the damn coast was enough to halt too much from being ruined.
  5. That feel when you run a brothel in a game filled with cat girls and you still have to jerk off the little potato man. Siiigh.
  6. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    Fucking bitch. The young man lay cleaved in half upon the caked ground with worms and maggots and other shit just filling his ears. Probably the only receiving the poor boy would ever have. Rideux clenched at his shoulder, squeezing it even as blood spurted freely from the three clawed wound. He wasn't exactly in the best of shape anymore. After forty or fifty men, they had caught onto his game of attacking one at a time and simply rushed him. Despite whatever the living fuck he was, he could not take on so many without being hindered in some fucking parts of him. However, he had finally arrived at his destiny. Despite the chaos that now went on around the garrison enclosure, Rideux knew he had found his mark. Much like how he found the garrison, he pulled out a long licrya crystal. The blade glowed with the spinning orbs of the stars, the edging neutrons drawing vast amounts of energy in a single moment. He plunged it forward into the heart of what would be nothing. Yet the grinding sound was not just for show. The blade dug into the strange crevice of a tree and with a resounding pop. A massive wave of energy rippled from the very essence the sword sunk in. Magic reeled and violently hurled like vomit in every direction. Huge waves of energy flashed and ran through the garrison buildings. Barracks, Stables, Farm, Trade Posts were all demolished and immediately destroyed. The black and silver armies engaging in physical combat would be blown from their battle, thrown into a frenzy upon the ground and permeated with a sickening black sludge. One soldier unlucky enough to look at his arm and find it missing, as was the rest of his legs. He wanted to scream but his eyes flashed blue, and he twisted and charged. Rideux stared up at the massive obelisk before him. It was nearly eighty meters high of solid obsidian and crystals. It gave off presence and nothing of the kind any one would want to be around. He took the sword by the pommel and jerked it free, it was utterly depleted, and he tossed it aside like it was a rag doll. The door caved inward and fell as he made his way into the pillar. The inside of the obelisk was pitch black. There was barely an augur of light. Rideux trespassed further until he collided with another barrier. Hands searched it and found nothing to purchase, but he was motherfucking Rideux, he didn't lose to magick. He pulled out a star silver licrya blade and thrusted into the force field. It dimmed and went out. Rideux took a moment to spit. "God damn elves and their fucking magic." After a few moments of searching, Rideux finally found what he was seeking this entire time. Ahead of him and deep within the furthest pits of the obelisk was the guiding light that he had been promised. A creature hovered above a young woman, it's form was almost an amalgamation of symbols and they twisted about, alien-ugly and bug like. The huge characteristic was its entire frame was made solely of pure light. A beam of violet traveled between the young woman and the creature that made Rideux step closer to inspect. Welcome, child. I knew my host would find itself here. "Quit your head nonsense, witch. I am only fucking here for the girl." Mm, you can have what is left of her, perhaps? Rideux reached behind him to grasp the last of his licryian daggers, and closed further down the pit. "What'cha doing to her?" Merely draining her prismatic energy. She possesses a magnificent color, child. It is almost a fount of infinite energy. Hnnnaaagg! Can't you feel me swell!? I am glorious! Incadescent! I AM RADIANCE! The barbed plugged deep into the creature, shoved nice and tight betwixt two of its spinning jagged edge...light thingies. Now... that's not very nice. After all... I empowered you. Rideux found his arms stretched and then he was slung, thrown into the course of the dense wall, his body burrowing into the hard earth, and he gasped; a bauble of blood ran down his jaw. "Ye..r..a fucking...monster is what you are," he screamed a guttural growl. Perhaps. But... The beam slowly softened until no light was left, and it floated across the ground to Rideux. Up front for its face the creature had two massive orbs that rolled in a spherical rotation, sclera fitted into them with a dark pupil. They spun like an atom and constantly fixed Rideux. So are you. Rideux's eyes popped and burned as light exploded from his cranium. For once, the obelisk was not just a swelling pillar of darkness. It brimmed to the fullest before it was out like a light bulb, no more shadows to cast. *** Vayne leaned against a pile of wood that had been slung about randomly during the fight. Pushing up from the material as if it offended him, he crawled to his knees and eventually to two feet. Blood rolled in heavy globules down his back as he took slow steps, finding his balance with every movement. It was entirely luck when he found Aurelius making his way out when the crack first hit. He could have yelled, he could have said anything; but it wouldn't have made what he did next make any sense. He leapt the yards with a closing action between where he was and Aurelius. Despite the man just escaping what could slightly be misconstrued as a means of power play to simply betray him later on. Vayne probably figured there would be explanations. Just things he didn't have right this minute. So when he caught Aurelius by the sleeve, he made an apology. They warped with almost blinding speed, thrown randomly through the spherical dimension. The play of Vayne's internal power was extremely simple. It required set ups. There had to be absolute points of origins and points that he could touch. These points all rotated around a similar axis, with these axis eventually layering ontop of one another. So when Vayne grabbed Aurelius, he simply shifted them both to another axis. They went from one of his origin points, and while he had amost four hundred in total, he chose the closest one; which as anyone could see: HE HAD A GAPING HOLE IN HIS BACK. With a crash, Aurelius and Vayne would land within a small outcropping by a massive crystallized lake. He figured they were somewhere near one of his Terrenus spots, but he didn't care. After he did his usual vomit, wipe his boots and make sure they were as far from the destroyed garrison, he would finally let out a sigh. He looked to the random traveler who really didn't need his day to go any worse, but... he had kind of had it coming. Being a Terrenus folk and all. The itch of his wound made him let out a cold sigh, and he removed his mask and tossed it aside. Hands went to the clasp of his surcoat and with a few tugs, it popped and came free. He shrugged out of it and let it sit. With a few more ministrations, he had completely disrobed his upper half. Now the thing was... Vayne wasn't a man in any shape or form. Upon what is otherwise a blood caked belly and midriff were two decently sized breasts that were taped. Vayne spun on their left foot and reached back to undo her bandages and let out a sigh of relief. The air of illusion would slowly dissipate from Vayne and what once had stocky broad shoulders was now lithe and small. The curved curly hair that had been tightly packed was long and straight, it sat upon a rather small and tiny back. Straight slides would now be inwardly pressed and curved with leather men's trews hugging hips. The wound that once was slowly healed up, the slit even closing upon itself but this was due to her draining the particles around her. She muttered constant forgiveness to the air, and relaxed quietly. "So, you alright?" The voice now mellifluous and soft, no longer edged and husky.
  7. Cylewen

    What are you playing? [Video Game Edition]

    Just finished Fashion Returns: Lightning is a Whore. Now playing Dragon's Dogma (PC)
  8. Cylewen

    What are you playing? [Video Game Edition]

    Just finished my SL4 Unarmed run of NG+ Bloodborne. Now I'm balls deep into Fashion Returns: FFXIII
  9. Cylewen

    The Obsidian Crown

    Rideux let out a snarling laugh as he perched himself off the guard tower, and gripped with a fleshy hand against the rolling azure shingles that failed to reflect any of the starlight above. He watched the Garrison guards line up like cattle to be slaughtered as his men infiltrated with ease within the garrison. Bunch of cunts and weedbags, if you asked me. Nobody asked you. I know. Shut up. Armored soldiers with winged tips would charge his forces, they were nothing special, he thought. They carried nice long sticks with pointy ends, but they were nothing in comparison to the soldiers he dragged back with them. The silver shining beasts of men collided like a mountain sized boulder to a small town. The black armored soldiers were pushed to the ground as his men began to butcher them like babes presented to Jesu himself. Growing tired of doing nothing, he launched himself off the guard tower and landed with a hard thud upon the sickening blood mucked ground and joined the fray. The first man to come to him was a sorry little puss nugget. A child of merely fifteen summers, he thought. The boy could hardly hold the bronze spear he was wielding, and he stabbed at him! The fucking dog! Well, we deal with dogs like we deal with whores. Rideux dodged an easily misplaced thrust and slammed his fist into the boy's exposed helmet. He heard the lovely crunch of those cracker smiled palettes being force fucked into his throat. The blood sputtered as the boy began to choke and gag, Rideux aided with an almost show of pure affection by bringing his axe down in a swift mercy stroke. Lopped and rolling, he spun around to stroke six more black bellies wide open as he burst forth through the lines. As Rideux swept his axe to another poor soldier, he felt the edge of his great axe being pushed away from within the fucker's heart. He was damn sure he saw intestines spill to the floor in snake pulpy clumps before a rapier stabbed past his head. A quick movement of his own, and he twirled the massive axe in his hand and snarled. "Who the fuck is you? The masked avenger?" The Masked Avenger twirled the blade they carried, and Rideux took note of the svelte frame and he snorted a laugh. "Wonder what the fuck you are. Cunt or cock. I'll fuck you either way." As Rideux swept his axe once more, he felt the deepness of his chain mail being punctured, and he grunted. He didn't even see the Masked Avenger, but that fuckwit had managed to close in before he could strike, drawing the first scent of blood. The Masked Avenger gave him a look uppance. "I can't feel your connection to this realm, invader. Where are you from?" A spit, a growl, and a snarl. Rideux launched again and this time slapped his palm against the long shaft of his baby. The axe exploded into dual hatchets where he crossed blades with the svelte tranny. Whatever the fuck this man was, he was fast. Even as he sent out a flurry of attacks, he knew that every stroke missed and he had to do that while dodging that piercing cunt's theoretical cock rod. A swipe grazed past him, slicing along the flesh of his cheek, the cold rush of blood sent him into a blood wakened frenzy. Rideux threw his hatchet with precision, watching the Avenger dodge his attack and come forward, and he jerked the free hand. The axe whirled back by some magnetic pull or whatever fancy fucking magic you want to call it. The Avenger was mid strike with his weapon when Rideux slammed his palm into the tip of the weapon, feeling the blade piercing his hand, he rode that shit like a proper nun and gripped the guard of the sword. He heard the avenger gasp as the hatchet buried into the back of the man, the magnetic fancy magic (MFM for short) pulled the hatchet until it slammed against a clink. Luckily for him... the avenger did not move and fell to the floor in a slump. *** As Falka was in her descent from the air, the longness of her weapon providing the crowd a glimpse of how slim she truly was, the arena exploded around them. Men in shining silver arrived in heavily armed items and they began to roll through, cutting away at the bandits within the crowd. Falka diverted her position within the air as she turned her body and flung herself backwards, feet landed upon something solid within the air and she took off toward the crowd. A hiss of her breath, and the magnetic field around the arena collapsed, and Falka landed within the stadium. Pushing aside a bystander, she crossed blades with one of the ventured creatures. A simple dodge of the man brought her within a breath's distance of the overly large male, and she slammed her hand into his breastplate. The fury behind her eyes coalesced and darkness spread from her palm, exploding in swirling midnight, consuming the man as he burst into black flames. The sound of his screams were almost delicious to Falka as she felt the power of her soul expand, the energy becoming more pronounced. Several of Rideux's men must have caught sight of the lone man within the arena, for they hopped over the unbounded barrier, landing within the sand in a tumble and shaking their frames. Soon enough their robust silver armor expanded upon their frames as they were unleashed. These men were nothing of the ordinary, for they were a mystical race indeed. Eight feet tall with muscular mass of an oak tree for limbs, they carried gigantic weapons of varying degrees. One of the scarred men charged Aurelius first, soon with the other two following him.
  10. Acies is rude. That is all.
  11. Cylewen

    As the Sun Rises

    I. The Dawn of Day has just begun “Cy, where do we go now?” “What do we do…?” “Cy…” “Shut up!” she snapped to the lot of them. “I am not your mother, you are free, can’t you see that!?” One of the girls with noticeable brown locks looked to her. “Obviously. But what else do you expect us to do? We have no weapons, we are all starving… It’s been two days and Vala continues to hound us. So it would be nice if you told us where you’re taking us.” A hand lifted to her forehead and she pinched it for a moment and after a deep breath, focused upon the group following her command. They all wore the same grey and black jumpsuits. A lot of them were enhanced, empowered beyond measure, but they were also young and did not receive the nature’s training that she did. What made matters worse was that she asked them to follow her, to die for her to escape, and in that itching in the back of her mind: she knew she owed them something. She glanced to the brown haired girl. “You. What is your name?” “Arecia,” the girl responded. Something about her made Cy trust her, her eyes spoke entirely too much; a visual that kissed the abyss. Arecia. She was not overly pretty, but she was taller than most of the girls around, and Cy placed her age in the mid-teens, a slim thing almost too small on the waist. What was her power? “Arecia, can you gather a group of men and set out to find wood and flint. Do not hunt the wild life.” A blonde headed boy with nappy hair piped. “Wha? Why not?” Arecia interjected before Cy had a chance to reply. “The smell of death draws the void sent to us. They work for Valarius and they would have no problem reporting.” “What are we going to do for clothes then!? Food!?” Cy shook her head. “Do not worry about food. We have some gatherers; we’ll live off the fruit of the lands until we find a village…” Even she doubted her own words. A nod to Arecia and the brown haired lass took off, gathering a small group and returning in a few moments. She looked them up and down, inspecting them as if they were novices to be taught. Walking down the line of them and she gave a tilt of her head. Looking to one of them with a brown beard and a foppish draw of hair had her snort. “I was not aware Valarius kept any older boys around. What is your name?” offtopic: If you're thinking about joining, please PM me.
  12. Wavering back and forth.

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