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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 12, 2012 5:02:34 GMT -5
The shit had officially hit the fan.
After his acupuncture treatment from Sai, Rick's life just fell apart. When the weapon tried to stretch his left arm upward, it just stopped moving at the shoulder. Same with moving behind his back. Coupled with the fact that his condition hadn't changed at all, he put two and two together. The treatment failed, Rick had partially lost movement in his left arm due to nerve damage.
It meant a lot of things. His use of his straps were severely hampered by this, especially for grabbing pipes and ledges, and pulling himself upwards on them. Such an action depended on him using both of his arms, due to his lack of physical strength. It meant no more Parkour or climbing, due to that obviously needing both arms to move above the shoulder blade to even work, just like using straps to grab something from above to get on it. Swinging was also fucked, with his left arm being out of commission.
So here sat Rick Fader, Demon Chair of Shibusen, on a bench in the park. Instead of an expression of mischief on his face as he'd usually have in the park, his expression was one of defeat. He mulled over the consequences of such an event. He feared Sid would be more than happy to toss him into the background, never being able to see the face of combat again. Sid might try to make use of him as an electrician or hacker. Or to add insult to injury, put him on some shitty cleaning job. Either way, he might get demoted to NOT for this.
The weapon quietly sat down, hands clasped together. Today, he was wearing a white t-shirt, nothing to write home about. As usual, he wore a pair of blue jeans. Finally, a pair of high-topped black and white sneakers made his footwear. And that was it for him. No gloves, no hat, no accessories to speak of at all.
And deep down, even though Rick could've refused the treatment, he still felt like blaming someone. And who better to blame than Sai, for administering the treatment that fucked him over? If he had been more careful, then this could've been avoided all together. But even then, Rick knew that it was his fault for accepting so easily.
It was a cloudy day in the park. The sky looked like it would be raining bullets anytime. Because of this, very few people were out in the park. Rick didn't seem to care about this factor at all. He just wanted to be alone, and if it meant getting drenched and possibly sick, that was fine. After all, sickness obviously meant not having to go to classes for a day or two.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 13, 2012 11:34:17 GMT -5
As Rick sits in the park, depressed, a boy appears from down a nearbye trail. He is walking slowly, with his hands in his pockets, looking troubled. His brow is furrowed, and his head is down, his brown ponytail bouncing slightly as he walked down the trail. As he walked, muttering, He glanced over, and stopped short at the defeated looking Demon Chair.
He glanced around, seeming extremely unsure, and then sighed. He walks up to Rick, and looks down at him. His ice blue eyes appear hesitant, but genuinely concerned. "What's wrong? I'd love to give some cliche reason you should be happy, but I don't feel much like ridiculous words of comfort."
He awkwardly sat down on the far side of the bench, his arms crossed and rested one one knee, one foot stretched out, the other resting on the bench. "My name is Bran... By the way.." he mutters, a bit gruffly. He seems uncomfortable, looking around a bit, and speaking as if he isn't quite used to the sound of his own voice. He moves his hands to his lap, as he lightly rests one hand on the bulge in his coat pocket.
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 13, 2012 22:25:06 GMT -5
Due to the lack of people in the park, it didn't take much for Rick to hear footsteps coming from the trail. From what Rick could see, it looked like another Shibusen student, male. The boy had his hands burrowed into his pockets, his head hung low. But at this point, Rick didn't really care, as long as he was left alone to get drenched.
However, much to the weapon's dismay, the teenager talked to him. He asked the weapon what was wrong. At least he didn't give him some bullshit reason to cheer up. The weapon simply scooted over away from the weapon as he moved to the side. "I'm now a fucking cripple. . .", he told his fellow weapon, his words were straight forward, and to the point. The tone he used matched his depressed appearance. However, it didn't sound like he was going to cry, yet. There was still no way in fuck he'd want to cry, not in public. Being reduced to a cripple was bad enough.
The teenager knew the Irish accent as he introduced himself to the weapon. "Rick. . .", he told him, his own accent being one of a Boston native.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 14, 2012 20:49:28 GMT -5
Bran listened, looking contemplative. He stared at Rick for a monent, looking suprised, when he mentioned being crippled. He gave a quick look over him, then looked back at Demon Chair. He quirked an eyebrow, and put a hand on his chin.
Well, Rick. I assume you're sitting out in the rain because if that?
Bran gave him a hard stare. He gestured to Rick, waving his hand at the whole of his body. "Is it your entire body crippled? You can no longer move? Then stop complaining. Do something about it. Look for a way to fix it. If it can't be fixed, find a way around it. That part of your body is useless? Make the rest of you stronger."
Bran gets up, and shrugs off his jacket. He places it down, and walks in front of Rick. He looks down, snorts, and moves to punch him in the stomach. As he does so, he snorts derisively. "If you are truly broken, then you're going to come out of this fight very badly. If not... Well. Hopefully I'll have at least snapped you out of it."
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 14, 2012 22:28:14 GMT -5
Bran gave Rick a hard stare, obviously indicating that he wanted Rick to shut the fuck up about his problems. Deep down, Rick knew that he really should just shut up and work this shit out. The fact that he was holding a grudge against his friend, who was just trying to help him, was a dick move in itself. Hell, it wasn't like he lost complete mobility in his left arm, and his other limbs were just fine. But then, Rick wasn't exactly thinking too clearly at the moment.
"I'm sitting in the rain because I needed the fresh, wet air. And I fuc-", Rick tried to tell the weapon before he found himself getting slugged in the gut. The weapon's eyes widened in shock and pain for a moment. With his right arm, he grasped the afflicted area, while looking up at Bran. The weapon then told him that if he were truly broken, he was fucked, otherwise he just wanted him to snap out of it.
The blue-haired weapon slid off the bench after a moment of recovery and no response. He would then get into a fighting stance, his guard up and ready to fight. While it wasn't immediately evident, Bran might eventually see what had afflicted Rick throughout the course of the fight. "Let's go then. . .", he told the weapon plainly.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 15, 2012 22:11:24 GMT -5
Bran swings into his fighting stance. He brings his arm up in a fenceing pose, and stands sideways. He shifts slightly, as he gauges the situation. Rick is obviously far more skilled than Bran is. And even with a disability, He likely had a suite of other powers to choose from. Bran yanks a coin out, and flips it. Glancing at the result, he suddenly whips it forward.
The coin sails at Rick's head, and, grabbing at an opprutunity, Bran dashes forward, his spear wielded like an epee, stabbing at Rick's arm. Despite the bravado and tricks, Bran appears nervous. A light rain has begun, and the grass is growing slippery.
Bran seems to be struggling, his face contorted. He is obviously annoyed at Rick's self pity, but he is also clearly not a physical powerhouse. His stab, though skillful, is lacking power. Even if it hits, it will be a minor blow.
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 16, 2012 0:40:37 GMT -5
The weapon observed as Bran assumed a fencing stance for combat. At the time, Rick wasn't sure whether he was a sports fencer, or if he actually used it as intended: for fighting dirty. It was the latter that had truly worried the demon chair. He had read up on the origins of fencing, how it was the epitome of unclean fighting, how it was used by highwaymen, and even how complimenting one's fencing skills was an insult.
Needless to say, the weapon watched as the scrawny Irish student pulled out a coin to toss it. He then threw it towards Rick's head, clearly a diversion for what was to come. A dashing attack with his partially transformed arm, the tip of a spear. Needless to say, with the training he had received, he had steeled himself to take the coin to the forehead, while waiting for the right moment to counterattack the nervous-looking adversary.
The weapon's fingertips shifted into a pair of clean white electrodes, dancing madly with electricity to the soft drumbeat of the rainfall.
"Two can play at that game.", stated Rick.
The weapon managed to leap to the right just in time to dodge Bran's strike, clearly waiting for him to have gotten in range. The weapon then swiftly twisted around, and attempted to slam his boot into his opponent's backside.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 16, 2012 8:24:48 GMT -5
Bran dashed towards Rick, his spear arm whipping at Rick. However, his stance is a bit off, it seems. As he dives forward, he passes the Chair on the right, diving past him. He hits the ground, and rolls. He spins quickly, and jumps at Rick from behind.
Bran is clearly not an acrobat, but his movements, although still somewhat sloppy, are quick and methodical. His Spear arm raised, he feints a jab to the left as he attacks, then quickly spins to the right, and attempts to grab onto the Demon Chair, and avoid the electrodes.
As Bran jumps at Rick, he brings one arm around his neck, in a headlock. The other, he brings down on his head in a solid elbow jab. His arm hits Rick in the base of the skull, smacking down harshly.
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 16, 2012 16:33:57 GMT -5
The weapon was swift enough to dodge Rick's attack from the rear with a dive and roll. The weapon quickly jumped towards Rick, aiming an attack at his left shoulder, a bluff Rick fell for by dodging towards the right. A mistake, as the weapon instead jumped around him to the right, using his normal arm to pull the weapon into a headlock. Instinctively, Rick grabbed onto the arm around his neck.
Bran brought down his transformed arm's elbow down on the back of his head in a brutal manner. Despite having taken much worse, it was a pretty critical area to hit, causing the weapon to gasp. Blood trickled down his nose. It hurt like hell, his head throbbed from the hit.
However, Rick was in luck, as Bran had used his human arm to grapple Rick instead of his wooden one. So Rick, taking advantage of this, unleashed a Discharge through Bran's arm, using his left hand. This was aided by the light rain falling down on them.
The weapon would then slam his right elbow towards Bran's midsection viciously. "Get. Off. Me. You. FUCK!", shouted Rick angrily as he continued to elbow at his opponent.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 16, 2012 17:20:27 GMT -5
Bran flew backward, the charge loosening his grip on Ricks neck. The subsequent elbow slammed him, sending him to the ground. He skidded, and lay still. He muttered, holding his stomach, "Fucking Hellfire...." He slowly stood, his hat covering his eyes. "This is going to be FUN."
His head flew up, revealing his eyes, blazing with a fierce, bloody glee. A grin rips across his face, and he throws his head back, and howls in rage. A red light bursts from him, his soul expanding out. For a moment, he is surrounded by a glowing red sphere, with a line of short spikes around the top. Then, it slams back into him, and he growls "GRAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! LET'S DANCE, BASTARD! (( BESERKER BLOOD: ON)) Bran sprints forward, his arms pumping like pistons. His face is twisted in a bestial snarl, and his eyes glow with a firey anger. His movements have sped up, and he appears to be moving faster, and, if the punch coming straight for Rick is any indication, stronger as well.
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 16, 2012 17:41:16 GMT -5
The attack went just as planned. The grip on Rick's neck was loosened by the electric shock delivered. The elbow strike was what ultimately got his adversary off of him, sending him to the ground, with Rick turning around and backing up. As Bran lay on the ground, Rick gripped the back of his neck.
"Fuck. . .", muttered the weapon.
Bran slowly got up, holding his stomach. The weapon then got up, noting that this was going to be fun. Rick gazed at his opponent, his eyes focused on Bran, on the lookout for anymore tricks. That was when Rick saw Bran's bloodthirsty eyes. While he couldn't perceive his soul, being a weapon and all, he knew that something was coming. But the look in Bran's eyes was familiar. It reminded Rick of his mood in such battles, how bloodthirsty he was when fighting Kishin Eggs.
The weapon then charged at him at a much higher speed. That was when Rick charged headfirst towards the weapon as well. Yes, Rick was dashing towards the opponent who had his speed, possibly his strength increased in a frenzied state. However, rather than striking the scrawny student, the weapon ducked down at the last moment, transitioning into a slide aided by the rain-slicked ground. Rick intended to trip up the frenzied opponent with this baseball slide.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 16, 2012 18:06:52 GMT -5
Bran dashes at Rick, his Beserker state fully in gear. As Rick dashes at him, Bran grins wider. "Too predictable." Bran leaps up, and, throwing his body weight backwards. As Rick slides at him, Bran allows hinself to fall backward, bringing his elbows down onto Rick's chest. He is breathing hard, and has quite a few bruises, but his beserk state seems to be shielding him from noticing.
Bran begins slamming his arms into Rick's body, ignoring his weapon capabilities altogether. He hits him again and again, beating at him with his entire forearm. He growls into Rick's ear. "You're broken, huh? I don't believe that. I'd be out right now."
"You are sitting here bitching. But you've been wiping the floor with me. Shut up. Stop whining. And show everyone that you're not out for the count." With that, Bran brigs both fists up and prepares to slam them down on rick.
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TAFFY MAE
Full Member
}}KISHIN EGG SOULS{0} HUMAN SOULS{0} WITCH SOULS{0} Awards{0}
You don't take a photograph, you make it.
Posts: 9
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Post by TAFFY MAE on Aug 16, 2012 19:31:52 GMT -5
Somewhere, hidden among the various bushes, a small redheaded girl squatted. As usual her camera was clutched in between both hands as she covertly snapped pictures of a brawl between the infamous Demon Chair and some other person that Taffy had not seen before. It was rumored that The Demon Chair --Rick-- had recently been injured in a way that made other students whisper in the halls that he was now a cripple. The ferocious weapon, now useless. But before her, as the pair tangoed, Taffy doubted that he was truly useless. It was apparent that one arm wasn't functioning properly but the other arm worked perfectly. She giggled lightly, causing the bushes she sought shelter in to shake.
When the other student climbed over Rick, Taffy thought it was about time she interrupted their love affair. She popped out of the bush quickly, camera held out in front of her and her stomach clenching in a swift fear, "HEY!!" she called, wanting them to chill out so she could question Rick before her next class. Things seemed like they were getting serious quickly and Taffy disliked seriousness as it were. She had worked hard for the past hour, walking, in secret, behind Rick, following him and making her own conclusions of his condition. A real reporter would make herself known only at the time that she had decided would be most beneficial. The fact that Taffy had done so now seemed amateur at most. She could be harmed!
Her grip around her camera tightened as she blinked over the two, stepping from the bushes and out into full view. The sun beat down on her red hair, causing it to shine even more brightly red. Her green eyes peered down on them through lashes, still nervous as to what the Demon Chair would think of her snooping about. But a real reporter puts themselves in the middle of everything! A real reporter wouldn't care about the danger, not if it meant a good story. How much better did it get than this? The Demon Chair, the coldhearted EAT student that would charge first and ask questions later, was a cripple now! Taffy simply couldn't miss this.
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Post by Rick Fader on Aug 16, 2012 20:24:28 GMT -5
Unfortunately, Rick's trip slide failed. The weapon managed to get on top of him in turn, slamming his arms on his torso. The weapon coughed in pain and surprise. The beating then continued in full force, Rick simply taking it for the moment. The weapon felt weak at the moment, useless. He felt like just giving the hell up.
That was when Bran whispered some key words to him. Despite his dysfunctional left arm, Rick managed to hold his own in this fight. Rick could still fight, despite just not being the same. Instead of bitching, he should've been working around it, working on it. But as the two arms descended down on Rick violently, the weapon caught them in both hands, unleashing yet another discharge through them. He then pried them both to the sides before grabbing at the weapon's collar.
"You're absolutely right.", Rick stated with a grin. The weapon then bucked his head back, and attempted to deliver a violent headbutt to the berserker, taking advantage of the stun and the grab.
It wasn't until he had attempted to back away from the weapon afterward that he noticed Taffy. For a moment, the bloodied and beaten Demon Chair looked at her. "What do you want?", he asked the redhead plainly, struggling to get up, his gaze having shifted back onto Bran in order to make sure he was done.
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Post by tokoz on Aug 16, 2012 21:01:34 GMT -5
Bran stills, as he is shocked by Rick. He stops moving , looking calmly up at the weapon. He calmly waits, and when Rick turns to speak to the reporter, he braces against the weapon, and pushes off. He rolls, and pops up. He is smiling slightly.
Bran stands, and grabs his hat, placing it on his head. He nods at The girl, staring at the two of them. He then turns to Rick. He is smiling, and appears to have calmed. He looks serene, almost. He nods, and speaks to Rick. "Well. You seem to have snapped out of it. Good. I hate to see someone like you defeated by your own self-pity. Accept your wound, and be all the more dangerous for it."
Bran smiles, and as he does, a thin line of blood runs down his cheek. Another escapes from the other side. Line after line streams out, including a few from his ears, and then a sheet of blood pours down his mouth. Bran slowly falls backward, eyes still looking straight ahead, and smiling. It seems Rick managed to hit him harder than he thought. As he falls, he chuckles. "I'm still not quite up to scratch... It seems."
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