[ You have got to be joking. Once more, the woman brings herself to a stand, defiantly preaching her refusal to stay down. Nidus’ eyes stare down at her in both shock and rage. He’s shocked enough, in fact, that’d he never considered putting her out of her misery while she was still down. For him, this creature before him is some otherworldly phenomenon. She definitely, at this point in time, is not human by any standards. This is a bonafide monster. Same as he. Despite the fury directed to her, he can’t help but slightly crack a smile. She wasn’t even surprised that he had gone from beast to man. The only thing burning in her eyes, same as he, is bringing down the opponent before her. A rush of electricity crawls up his spine as an uncontrollable fit of laughter leaves his maw.
His arms wrap around his gut as he coughs up blood between his howling. “You…! You’re the best, human! I hate you with every fiber of my soul, but I respect your tenacity! So that’s why…” He drops his arms, bending forward a bit once more, this time staring into the opponent’s eyes unyielding. His teeth slowly sharpen and his nails protrude into claws. His pupils focus into slits and his muscles seem to tense and harden. “...I’ll cull you, and march about this planet with your corpse as my prize!” Though he says this, in truth, he only has about one last strike left in him. Whatever happens from here, happens. His right arm begins to shake and convulse and he strains to keep it in check. The claws here grows particularly large and the veins are vastly more prominent than before. His snarls full the air as he finally comes to control of the rampaging limb, it now holding a more feral berserk appearance than before. Immediately, he roars towards Nephele like the beast from before, and lunging himself at her. His voice almost echoes out as he preaches the name of his foul technique.
Nephele stumbled to the side as claws hurdled towards her muddled vision. The toned woman brought a fist up, coating the appendage with an invisible force. With one last, desperate swing of her petrous fist, Nephele brought her knuckles to bear on those feral daggers. Hardened by the iron-like aura that encased it, the lump of steel attached to her powerful arm would thrust out and crash against Nidus's own attack. With the last bit of energy spent left in her tired veins, Nephele would feint. The red-maned head that adorned her slender neck slumped forward though in her defiance she refused to fall. Her legs braced themselves against the earth as Nephele slipped into a even darker world than the dome that had encased the entire area only minutes before.
[ Even now. Even with her bottle mere moments from dismantled due to her injuries, the woman persists. An act that fills Nidus’ chest with an absurd level of excitement. A large grin expands on his face as his opponent readies her own final strike. With a magnificent exchange, the two attacks clash, and a resounding shockwave ignites around the pair. Then, there is silence. No banter, no creaking bones, no cumbling debris, no screams of the survivors. Only quiet. Nidus stands there with his palm clashing into the woman’s fist. Smoke seemingly wafting from the point of contact. The remainder of the Moon-Sent’s body has already gone limp. He can’t even bring himself to lift his other hand and seal the deal. It’s over. For him, and apparently his foe. She too remains there, motionless, clearly having succumb to her wounds. But, did she truly die. He wants to ask. To call out to her, and find out if she too still lives.
If, maybe...just maybe, they can do this again. But even his jaw has lost the strength to move. Only his eyes tremble, fearful of fading away. Fearful of losing sight of the woman before him. It’s only in this moment, seconds from what he assumes to be death, that he desires life. For the first time, he was allowed to feel. To live. And now, it’ll all be taken away. His legs buckle, and slowly does the moon-sent fall over to his side, collapsing onto his back with arms sprawled outwards. Above him, she stands there, triumphantly over his form. An absurd anomaly of humanity. “I’m...gonna die? ...Here, in a world away from home.” he starts, frowning faintly at his weakness. “But even so, you plan to watch it all until the end don’t you. Stop… Stop looking down at me like that.” His hands twitch, as if he desires to get back up, and defy the fate whispered to him from the great one above. He truly did fail, and now, he’ll die on foreign spoil. Back to an eternal dark, unfeeling, unaware. Trapped in a void of lifeless darkness with no understanding on who or what he is. Back into that goddamned machine.
His eyes shift, looking into the faded eyes of the woman. His greatest opposition. “I guess...it’s just you and me left in our world, huh? You...said...that’d you drag me down with you, right?” The man’s body starts to tremble now as his emotions well up. No longer is he only consumed by anger. Now right now. In this moment, he only sees her, the woman that brought him so much feeling. So much adrenaline. The one to make him feel something other than that all consuming rage. “If I fell with you… If we stared in each other’s eyes till our very souls are consumed by the flames of the After… Will my world become that which is reflected in her eyes? Will...your world become that which is reflected in mine?” he whispers to her, his vision going blurry. He tenses his focus, fighting the weight of unconsciousness swarming his person. His blood continues trickling out at a slow pace, ever taking from him the strength to resist.
“Now I understand. Yeah, I guess it aint so bad that way… Everything that is me, is her. Everything that is her, is me. Monsters, dancing across corpses and flames. In tune, fading from the world, descent into hell together… eternally… fighting…” With the last of his strength, he lets out one last weak chuckle, accepting his fate of being tied to this single human, who both overcame and defeated him.
Where she stands, he has fallen. As he grasps onto the hopes of being able to see the woman again, fighting forever in the fires of hell, his heart lightens a bit. His only regret, is having never asked her name. Ah well. They have an eternity together now. He’s got time. ]
Eyes crusted over with blood slowly creaked open. Flakes of red dust fell away and danced on the wind as two carmine hues were accosted by the day's light. The searing, white glare was too much for the tired eyes to bare at first, screwing them back shut. But with tentative blinks, those magenta orbs were able to remain open in the noon sun. Slowly, Nephele moved her sore body. Still standing, the girl rotated her hips and moved her feet. Lifting the soles from the dried pool of viscous cruor, Nephele took her first firm step forward. Sun-baked leaves of thin plasma fell from her like from a tree in Autumn as she tread upon the ruined and bloodied earth with a sandalled foot. Slowly the girl inclined her head, turning it to look at the man at her feet. Narrowed eyes regarded the creature unconscious at her feet with concealed contempt. Every inch of her body ached with the dull throb of fresh wounds. Wounds caused by the sleeping man in front of her. She previously had every intention of dying with this foolish creature. The warm, summer's wind cut through her hair and brought with it the scent of burnt wood and death. The noxious smell drowned out her own natural aura of peppermint and fir. She readjusted her torn clothes, ripping the sweater from her sticky form. Topless, Nephele slowly walked up out of the crater and began searching for her effects. The spotless, white pack was easy to find. The sack stood out in the sea of red and black, shining like the merciless sun above her head. Her dark hair felt warm to the touch as she ran a mangled hand through the long, maroon locks. A heavy sigh escaped from the lean woman's plump lips a she reached down and opened the bag in front of her, slowly and meticulously removing her set of armor from the large, alabaster sack. As soon as she had each piece of the gilded plate, Nephele would begin to don the hot metal over a new shirt and skirt.
[ He rested for a time that felt no shorter than forever. His body screams and aches in agony, slowly recovering from its battered and bruised state. Slowly but surely his eyes creak open, revealing the brilliant shimmer of his teal iris. His gifts from the moon. Though in pain, the man forces himself up, at least his torso. Enough so that a light spill of red can leave the confines of his leaps after a grievous cough. Pain? He thinks deeply to himself, recollecting the events that took place in his time of living. The pain absolutely tearing at every corner of his flesh, every cell in his person, feels so real. Finally, he’s to his knees, head tilted back with arms hanging to his side. Excessive breaths follow one after another through the bitterness of his struggle to even make it this far. What then would happen if he were to try and stand? The man dabbled with such a thought for a moment or two as he presses his firm palms against his kneecaps.
First the right side, wobbly, but accurate. Balance starts here, followed by the left. The ruined form wavers, shifting front to back, side to side. But ultimately, he stands. “What a pain in the a**.” he speaks between ragged huffs and pants. “Even though I’m dead, guess Hell won’t let my wounds heal. At least let me start over.” he grumbles, eyes finally starting to focus well. He looks left, then right, noticing his surroundings. It’s the same as the battlefield from then. The place where he had his final battle, and lost his life, right? After shaking his head, he laughs at the irony. And then he notices. Over in the distance, that woman. That devil. That barbaric muscle head. That HUMAN. A large grin overtakes his mug as he takes two slow unbalanced steps towards her. “Well whadd’ya know! You really did drag me to hell with you! What a riot! But…” He holds up his hands, reaffirming the ruined state of his body, but grins on anyways.
“...Our fight aint over yet. We got a whole eternity ahead of us, human. So c’mere. Let’s do it again! What we did before! Bashing, tearing, gouging! Let me feel that again!” he roars out defiantly, refusing to acknowledge his body’s cry for peace. He can’t even tell if that demon woman is as hurt anymore. But he damn sure wants to find out. No, he will! ]
「000 Strength || 015 Prowess || 000 Defense || 000 Speed || 015 Stamina || 000 Vitality」 Obi Obi no Mi || Sash Sash no Mi
From the distance, he could make out the outline of an island. Finally, a place to rest! Iwata Naoki had been at sea for more than a couple days, resulting in fatigue and hunger. He'd been traveling the seas in search of any clues or signs related to the Lunarians, but so far he failed to pick up a trail. As he rowed closer, his jaw dropped a the sight of the now decimated area of what used to be Loguetown. The vessel's bow kissed the sand of the beach, and Iwata stepped out, eyes focused on the scene that lay before him. Debris and rubble littered the wasteland, corpses scattered about the area, some either dead or knocking on death's door, waiting to gain entry. He walked through the area with relative ease, making note of the level of destruction. They did this! A voice hisses maliciously in the far reaches of his mind. The young man's head twitches to the side, his eyes flickering between the jade green to a deep crimson as he spoke, "It reeks of their foul stench. There was one here... It's close..." He blinks, irises regaining its natural hue as his head shakes, "How far?" A chorus of whispers indistinguishably singing in his mind, harmonizing into a single voice. There. His hand raises in synonymously with the reply, pointing out the direction.
Climbing atop a pile of rubble, Iwata gazed out, scanning the desolate lands in the direction given to him. He scratched his head and sighed, "A little help here Vernage?" Again the congregation of whispers surfaced, his eyes shifting back to crimson as the land before him magnified, distance becoming all but an illusion. Iwata's vision focused on two figures, standing before a pool of black ichor, both notably battered and bruised. Crimson orbs rested upon the man, who could barely stand, his very being giving Iwata the chills. This was the one. Voices cried out in glee, their howls conjoining to create one coherent entity. Lunarian! Iwata reared his head back, as the legion of voices emitted a sinister screech fro the core of his being. His hand clutched his pale, gold locks, wrenching them back as a vile grin spread across his face. Hunching over slightly, he laughed maniacally, spreading his arms, "Finally! I found you~" Iwata exclaimed in a singsong tone. Black strips of clothes shot out of the back of his jacket, weaving and folding into the form of large wings. They unfurled and Iwata dipped low, shooting into the sky with so much force that the pile of rubble on which he stood, collapsed under the pressure from the wind. The wings beat several times before propelling him forwards with immense speed towards his intended target, joyous laughter emitting from his mouth.
☪ Word Count: [466/900] ☪ OOC [---]
Combat Data:
Techniques Used:
Techniques In Use:
Items Equipped:
Items Used:
「」or〈〉Devil Fruit and Rokushiki technique borders respectively
Nephele's wounds were no longer bleeding. No matter how deep the lacerations had been, there was no longer red liquor spilling from her burning veins. She dusted herself off as she turned to face the man roaring defiantly at her, revealing shiny, new red-flesh. Her face had returned to that stony stare that often accompanied her. Though the damage she had sustained had shaken her to her core. She had almost died, even if she had been prepared for it. And it had been all for naught. The beast, as that was the most appropriate term, was clearly scarcely harmed. Hell, he was already ready to continue their previous bout. "So be it." She growled as her lip curled, revealing her wolf-like canines. "Got to stay cool." she thought to herself as she took her first stride to him. Her fists were balled at her side, muscles tense, as she began walking towards the monster that had come from the sky. An imperceptible aura began to envelop her entire body as she walked, the air shimmering slightly as alabaster skin flushed a rosy red. Her body was heating up, blood was pumping faster, and her muscles were bulking-up. Crack-crack, crack-crack! Nephele twisted her neck to both sides, popping the ligaments in her spine as she slammed a fist into an open palm with a loud pop. "Guess its time to go all out." The words left her throat as a hoarse rumble, like embers roaring away from a flame. But, before she could cross the gap between them another challenger entered the fray. A third person, hurtling towards the fox and laughing manically, appeared suddenly upon silky pitched wings.
[ Nidus was ready. Far too much so, in fact. He wounds had begun to lose their flavor, and the adrenaline was picking up once again. He couldn’t possibly be sure of how long he had been unconscious previously, and honestly he doesn’t even realize he’s still alive in the first place. What he does know is that he’s feeling much better than before, and from the looks of things, so is the woman. He starts loosening himself up, doing light exercises here and there. Ultimately leading to him bouncing around in place as if hyping himself. As if preparing. All the while a large grin is plastered over his mug. This due mainly to his near addiction level of attraction to the woman before him. Despite how hard she fought just before, she’s miraculously fine now, and prepared to go at it again. Just the thought swimming through his mind sends the Moon-Sent into a frenzy of emotions. Enough to where he, after psyching himself up further, subsequently careens towards he with arms to his side.
Blade equivalent talons protruding forth habitually, and eyes shimmering that same cold blue aurora of pigments courtesy to his genes. “Aw yeah! Lemme feel ya again!” he roars. His advance is only stopped by a sickening scent overtaking his nostrils, dancing alongside the voice of someone new. A survivor? No, highly unlikely. Nidus comes to a sliding halt, turning to look at the newcomer through his peripheral. He stares for a few moments before turning back to the woman before him. “Friend of yours?” he asks, letting a sigh escape his form. “Look, I don’t blame your for wanting help but… somehow this really puts me off.” he claims, showing clear dissatisfaction on his face. With one mighty bound, he clear distance between himself and the red head, turning his head to get a better look at this new person. “The hell are you supposed to be? And why the heck are you wearing glass over your eyes. You some kinda idiot?” he questions, genuinely curious now. Besides, at this point, his just built hype is tapering off. ]
「000 Strength || 015 Prowess || 000 Defense || 000 Speed || 015 Stamina || 000 Vitality」 Obi Obi no Mi || Sash Sash no Mi
Iwata touched the ground gracefully, wings made from cloth returning to their original form and draping over his shoulders as they coiled back into the sleeves of his coat. His finger pushed against the bridge of his round spectacles, eyes peering down from his newfound perch to stare at the two individuals before him. Both indeed very bruised and battered from what was possibly a large-scale battle from the looks of the area. Iwata slightly cocked his head as the man before him spoke with a distasteful tone, expressing his apparent disdain for the current situation. Amused, Iwata could not help but release a slight chuckle to himself, "Your assumptions are indisputably wrong. I don't know this woman, neither do I currently care for her existence in this very moment." He paused, "Mm. No that was rude of me. Rather I should say that she isn't why I have come here to this....place." Iwata raised a hand and lazily gestured to the decimated area.
"As for your feelings...I could care less whether you're 'put' off or not," The young man leaps from where he stood onto the same ground level of the two and eyed his quarry up and down. "Commendable enough that you think you would be able to fight in that state." He nods his head towards the man as his hands find their way into his pockets. An eyebrow raises as the bloodied figure inquires about his glasses, "My vessel requires them unfortunately. I offered to fix his vision, but he is quite the stubborn one. I assure you however, he is no idiot." Iwata turns to the woman and bows, "Apologies if I have disturbed anything here, I shall take a step back to allow the both of you to resolve whatever prior engagement was in progress if you wish?" He spoke politely, awaiting her reply as his focus shifted to the uncouth ruffian before him.
"What am I? I didn't think your kind were this daft. It's a surprise you all even managed to survive this long to begin with. Especially after the war, wouldn't you agree...Lunarian?" He smirked, "Though I believe it would be better if I just showed you." Iwata's eyes returned to their normal jade hue as a mist-like energy began to emanate off of his body culminating into a single form of a person clad in armor. A chorus of voices could be heard from the figure, each one beginning to merge into a single voice, "We are the collective. We are the fallen. We are legion in one. I am Vernage, third warrior of Mars, lodestar of Ethereal Night."
"Rejoice, for we have descended upon this world to bring about your end, foul creature."
☪ Word Count: [459/400 Story Post] ☪ OOC [Sorry this took forever...]
Combat Data:
Techniques Used:
Techniques In Use:
Items Equipped:
Items Used:
「」or〈〉Devil Fruit and Rokushiki technique borders respectively
Quotes:
North Lotus
Chaos Reclaimer
Posted: Wed Sep 12, 2018 7:42 pm
Nephele looked to Nidus as he asked if the new arrival was a friend and shrugged apathetically. The lioness had no idea who this blonde-maned cub was. The reddening of her skin slowly faded as she shifted on to the heel of her back foot. The woman took on a relaxed posture as the two conversed, clearly not invested in what they were talking about. With an obvious and audible yawn, Nephele placed her headphones back into her ears and cranked the volume. She nearly missed the new guy's transformation with her face buried in her musical device, looking up with widening eyes as a green mist swirled around him and transformed him in an armor-clad form. She popped one of the headphones out just in time to hear the end of his little speech, something about "star of the Ethereal Night.". Her wounds still throbbed from the previous battle, the dull ache coursing through her muscles thought the bleeding had stopped. She could fight, but if this guy was willing to take over Nephele was in no rush to stop him. "I have no idea what the kólasi is going on. . ." She murmured loud enough for both of them to hear.
