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Post by wasaki on Dec 8, 2011 9:22:57 GMT -5
The cruel sting of steel had felled him in with just one crack. Worse than the exterior damage was the bruise to which his pride would suffer having been knocked unconscious for all his tough-talk by the swing of an…undead zombie?!
That’s not right…probably just another student. It was a bit odd having such a lax conversation with himself in the space of his noticeably vacant mind. Whether that was a jab made by the author of his existence or simply a hard truth presenting itself he had no way of knowing and quite frankly chose not to dwell on minutia that held little relevance in his current condition. Alright, last thing I saw. Maybe that’ll tell me who he was, the mental image of Wasaki Tafari pondered with a knuckled hand resting directly beneath his chin. His legs positioned sanguinely against a stone pedestal while his prominent brows furrowed in deep thought. Such poise and grace could hardly be expected of him in the outside world, but in the realm of his thoughts anything could was possible.
…including that he could lounge in the nude without fear of reprisal. A minor indulgence, but one he saw fit to indulge dammit! That smug little girl would not shield her eyes here, no siree, not while he was confined within the safety of his thoughts. Of course the subject of thought invasion stumbled him abruptly upon a memory where he was holding a guitar and in fact doing battle with it. Not just any guitar, this instrument had blades that glistening in the night as if the desire to lacerate was ebbing in the reflection of the moon that night.
Or maybe there was no moon? Hmmm… Oh, to be young and suffer from ADHD was a glorious step to adulthood. Unfortunately the brain blast would end abruptly as something earth shaking happened, something no one had expected. His heart resonated with a sense of dignity in his temporary partner in crime—the degenerate had actually stood up for him with a cry so loud it might have shaken the school to its Kishin-housing foundations. Jarred from his inanimate state, Wasaki’s eyes blinked open and his mouth formed into a smile as he was about to give his unbridled thanks to the pointy haired behemoth. At this time, as the counter to this beautiful moment about to take place, a poetic yet tragic stroke was added in the Shakespearean-like plot,
"I totally wanted to wail on 'im more!"
“….”
Wasaki’s smile still lingered even seconds after this sentence breached his auditory senses. It took time for these things to roll through the lobes, to be tossed from one informational database to the next until finally a clear encryption came through in that spacious crypt known as the ‘Wasaki’s mind’. “WHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAT?!” A second earth splitting bellow tore through the halls. Shaking doors, knocking books from shelves, rocking even the pristine tri-horned depiction of the school’s founder outside just enough to cause a small fracture on one of the protrusions; today was the day for such things it seemed. Luckily for Wasaki it was the holidays and a lad with a rather ugly disposition when it came to symmetry was languishing over a chess board which was atrociously unbalanced in its colors. “You…bastard-huh?” As far as timing went Wasaki was delightfully well timed in his rising to his feet. Eyes rimmed in red as if the devil’s own pestilence festered in each cornea, his arms wrapped with cords of vexation, and his chest heaving beneath the barely set cloths of the motherland.
At which time Eva’s rather dysfunctional kick found it’s way to his family jewels as opposed to Rocket’s. “…bitch.” was all he said before dropping facefirst onto the ground.
Another violent outburst quickly and handily suppressed by the wonderful Asian community. Gotta love the East-Enders with the squinty eyes…kinda. [[OOC: Totally not aiming to offend anyone, just writing from Wasaki’s perspective. Please don’t misunderstand. Oh, also posting to see if I can revive this thread. ]]
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Post by rain on Dec 10, 2011 9:12:30 GMT -5
[atrb=style, background: url(http://img542.imageshack.us/img542/4392/rocketpostheader.png);height: 700px; width:500px;]
Rocket offered a smirk to the dystopia that billowed out from the shadows and flourished before his eyes. Wasaki had taken a hit for him, not of his own volition, but the rock and roll axe guitar's own opinion of himself wouldn't allow that kind of logic; the dark skinned teen clearly sensed that the lean mean death metal machine was in danger and, Rocket being the handsome devil he was, realised that to allow anyone to lay a malevolent hand upon his pride and glory would be tantamount to treason. And so the foul-mouthed hoodlum had risen like the pulchritudinous phoenix and absorbed the kick with gusto, before sinking back down again to his rightful place at Rocket's feet; obviously Wasaki was intent on his fervent worship of the gods...
Such youthful optimism coruscated through the demon weapon's mind in the few seconds it took for the hilarity of what had really happened to transpire.
Not even slightly wary of the phlegmatic and yet somehow choleric pipe wielding man and his trusty pugnacious -- but ever so comely -- sidekick, Rocket shrugged as he wasn't entirely sure what to do. Taking on those two probably wasn't the most intelligent option, nor was it the option that had his face in its best interests. Still, he was Rocket, and because he was Rocket, asking for a quiet retreat was out of the question. Also not reaching even the furthest borders of his tainted mind was the notion of teaming up with the downed Cameroonian. But it was a speck on the horizon. And the thing about specks was that they soon became dots, and dots became blobs, and blobs became splodges, and splodges became stains, and stains became messes, and messes became ideas. While he silently sifted through the mess of his mind, Rocket's eyes never left the two instigators of this difficulty; even while he tried desperately to think -- something that he would have demanded credit for, he didn't often engage rational thought (or, for that matter, irrational thought; everything that spewed from his mouth was the twisted and corrupt garbage that was the harbinger of insanity). As he backed up slightly in order to be facing both of the people who would very likely attack him, the dagger-haired teen felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through his veins. And yet this feeling was somehow different; the hormone flooding his system wasn't invoked through excitement, through blood-lust. It wasn't bringing a smile to his face. It wasn't there to help him win.
It was there to ease the pain. The pain of death.
For the first time in his life, Rocket was scared.
You could almost feel sorry for Rocket, but then that's what all the devil's advocates want you to do...And with this in mind perhaps he wasn't truly afraid; perhaps he was trying to come across in such a way that would make him appear to be so, in order to make the other Chinese girl and her zombie warrior lower their guards. And that's just what those inclined to dabble in the malicious would like, isn't it? Even when tottering on the brink of death, or insanity, they want you to indulge in their sophisticated evil. Sophistication was a word absent from Rocket's vocabulary, and yet he knew how to use it perfectly; it, like many other long words that he had yet to give a two fingered salute to, was a weapon. A weapon in the arsenal of the wicked, a fine-tuned blade that resonated with the hearts of the noble, or, in Rocket's opinion, the hearts of the pussies.
That blade was shining.
Rocket's swordhand was singing with lust. Blood would be spilled today. It didn't even have to be real blood -- all that was guaranteed was that the demon axe guitar would make them all bleed...
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Dirge
Full Member
[P:0]}}Kishin Egg Souls{0} Human Souls{0} Witch Souls{0} Points{-1780}
Comic Relief Guy
Posts: 210
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Post by Dirge on Dec 29, 2011 21:45:41 GMT -5
The events that had taken place thus far barely registered in Rune's mind, whose enraged, groggy behavior had completely taken over all logical processes of cognition. All of them but instinct and the natural reaction of an angry man towards others. The sound blow delivered to Wasaki's head knocked the guy out for a brief moment, and Shorty's sudden reaction was a direct kick to his companion's crotch; a kick that aimed to obliterate the hyper guy's family jewels. The distracted boy wouldn't even see it coming, she hoped.
The dim light in the hallways was enough to notice the Chinese girl moving many times quicker than usual, but the reactions of Rune's and her 'opponents' straddled the line of craziness. As Eva's leg closed in on the rock and roll guitar demon weapon's crotch, Wasaki jumped in front of him, instantly feeling the pain down there and nearly fainting as his face hit the floor. Rune's gaze fixated on the defeated Cameroonian for a full second before his senses told him they needn't bother anymore with that man.
And so the beast, growling just like a wild spirit, shifted his eyes over to Rocket. The glint of metal caught Rune's attention and the visible soul wavelength of the demon weapon partially pulled him out of his stupor. It was enough for the meister to notice that the guy before him wasn’t a bird sharing the same feathers as Rune; he was a demon weapon. The blue haired one knew he couldn’t take him alone, not even with the metal rod that’d so easily felled that other foe. “Hey, Shorty.” Rune finally spoke with a voice that could give the chills to anyone who heard it in the middle of the night; grave, coarse, and vicious. As he’d begun to speak once more, he outstretched his free arm, and the palm of his hand ended up facing her. Looking over at the dadao through the corner of his eyes, he added on with a quick wink, “Let’s knock this guy out as well so I can finally go back to bed, okay?”
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Eva Liu
Advanced Member
}}Kishin Egg Souls{0} Human Souls{0} Witch Souls{0} Points{1703}
Now that it's raining more than ever.
Posts: 149
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Post by Eva Liu on Dec 30, 2011 19:32:04 GMT -5
Righteous anger and more than just a dash of stupidity propelled her badly delivered kick. At any moment, she expected her intended victim- no, not victim,she was the victim if anything- her assailant to blow through her measly distraction and block her counter attack with one of his own. Her foot met its mark much sooner, much lower than expected, and the look of confusion that furrowed her brows and left her mouth slightly agape as though poised to ask "What the hell?" was apparent even before impact. The downed mummy had struggled to its feet, ever insistent on tearing her limb from limb, but he hadn't expected that, did he? Eva imagined that he had even seized up in a moment of unadulterated agony in the first few seconds of the collision of shoe against flesh before slumping over in temporary defeat. Not the person the kick was meant for, but still one who deserved it.
The weapon girl quickly backpedaled, quite unsure of how to proceed. The kick was really all she had thought of doing, and even then it was decided upon as a silly impulse. This was the part someone else leapt into the fray, either his outraged companion to rain hellfire and retribution, or her savior Rune to, well, defeat the villains and whisk away the damsel-no-longer-in-distress. However, the frazzled knight in fuzzy polka dotted pajamas appeared to be still too sleep-addled to process the bizarre and unexpected coincidence, the comedy of error, at any decent rate.
If there was any time to step back and appreciate the humor the pair would be the best equipped to take advantage of it. As it stood, a moment of cringe-worthy awkwardness passed as the overwhelmed, hapless sidekick decided she wasn't quite ready for the mantle of the hero just yet and the defiant villain took in the odds and bluffed that he would overcome them all.
A crunchy-gravel type of voice called out her name. Was it just Rune’s vocal cords protesting against their use so “early” in the day, or him showing a vindictive side to himself? Whichever it was, it amounted to the same thing: a call to action. Her meister extended his hand towards her in an invitation to do battle together, and she obliged, relieved to follow orders rather than direct the action herself. Sidekick indeed, but she resolved to be a damned dependable one. Her human form dissipated in a flash of bright green- peridot, Eva liked to call it, like the gem- bounded and arced towards Rune’s open palm where it started to reform into the curved blade of a dadao. The already-transformed sword arm was last, and she found herself floating in the odd embrace of her soulscape. The girl was untouchable at last, and in the comforting grasp of her meister.
“Wipe that stupid smirk off his face, Rune,” she said sweetly in a soft tone meant only for him to hear, ”Would you kindly?” These chumps would be nothing for Rune, she knew. Just a pair of walking meatsacks that he could practice on.
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