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| Xeios Posts: 939/2954 |
Xeios grinned, he drew the angel from the demon, now it was time to expell the demon for some large amount of time. Possibly forever. Xeios held his swords outwards, and small blac orbs appeared on the inside of them. Drawing towards one another. The force seemed to become greater almost instantly, he would not have too much time for this. Amazingly he was straining to pull the weapons apart, it was not time. Sweat trickled down from his forehead A small bead of clear sweat. It dropped to the floor, and the silence seemed to amplify the volume of the droplet crashing open on the ground. The droplet, after it shattered, oddly seemed to freeze in place. It had become ice, and in all actuality, the whole arena seemed to drastically become colder in a mater of seconds. Was this part of Xeios' strategy? |
| Rauni Posts: 552/1351 |
As Xeios lunged forward with his two swords to Beowulf, Beowulf took a look behind him, almost realized that he could be hit almost at anytime. Beowulf flapped his wings aggressively and began to shield his body as soon when Xeios. Soon the weapons hit the shadowy wings, but it went through it. One of the weapons was struck, as if it hit on something hard. Another weapon seem to be pushed away, redirecting away from Beowulf’s body. It could not be accurately revealed of what Beowulf did behind his wings and soon he pulled back his wings. There, it revealed that the sword stop one of the weapon in its track, and push the other by its blade. Beowulf smiled at his skilled swordsmanship. It takes a high reflex skills and a keen sense of abilities to communicate between the swords itself and the body that lies within.
Beowulf pushed back the weapon, then quickly went into mid-air before Xeios get another chance to fight back. When he got to mid-air, he turned around and focuses on Xeios, who shouted at Beowulf. “Beo, if you are still alive, snap out of this, your father is controlling your body, I do not want to kill you, but you may leave me no choice.” Whether it was Beowulf who was listening to Xeios’ or Apocalypse who was chuckling to himself in amusement, Beowulf did not response. Shortly after he pulled back his wings, the eyes became somewhat green, although it looks a little pale. Soon, his left side robe became to become strained with red color. Blood, he somehow took damage to his left side hip. It wasn’t fully wounded although a small cut like that did bleed a lot. But how did he have the wound in the first place? He stop one weapon completely in a track and pushes away another. However, as the cut recovered in short matter of time, Beowulf’s eye reveals a flicker of pain. He was enduring it. He began to speak again… But however, a voice became somewhat familiar. “Ugh… you should really be careful on how you used your weapon effectively. The next you do that; I could strike down toward to your heart when you strike those two weapons at me. Heck, I could even push two of them away if I want to… But you got lucky…” Beowulf looks down, as he still enduring the pain that Xeios struck before. He was lucky. If Xeios strike where the vital organ was, Beowulf would in a paralyze state and even Apocalypse could not assist him… “Just a moment when Apocalypse used his sword to protect me, another weapon was heading my way… I could knock both of them apart if I were me but… Ugh…” Beowulf places his left hand on his left hip, trying to relax the muscle so that he could endure it easy enough. The wound wasn’t fully healed. The impact of the damages has heavily damages him in a way, but Beowulf could still fight even if he can’t use his left arm for a while. His eyes closed for a while, to endure the pain but still be able to stand up. Soon, his shadowy wing began to revert back to it original form. |
| Xeios Posts: 917/2954 |
Xeios ducked and rolled to the side as Beo cae crashing down to his position. The slashes were fast, and they seemed to be extremely lethal. Xeios observed these and gathered what information he could. The attack appeared as though it could cut through damn near anything, powerful, and something not usually utilized. Claws, they were interesting indeed. As Beo gently glided backwards, Xeios took this as an opportunity to attack, He lunged forward with his two swords, Both threatening to impale Beo through the stomach. Though the wounds would not be fatal, they would still inflict a large amount of pain upon the victim.
He knew that Soulsteel was imposing its will upon him, but Beowulf, rather, Apocalypse, had to be stopped, and though it would pain Xeios to see the two of them, possibly separated for all time, but it was this sypathy that usually opened him to some sort of weakness. Xeios leapt back after the lunge, and seperated Beowulf and himself by twenty feet. This fight was getting tortuous, and he was ready to spice it up, just some enchanced magic or power, something along those lines. Or maybe...his weapon... "Beo, if you are still alive, snap out of this, your father is controlling your body, I do not want to kill you, but you may leave me no choice." Xeios had himself in a defensive position, and was prepared for any onslaught from Beo... |
| Rauni Posts: 546/1351 |
Beowulf took a quick examination, noticing that a beam was heading toward to his way. While in mid-air, he slides to his left as the beam passed by. Looking at Xeios and his quick argument with his father, he floats there as he didn’t care of what they are discussing. No matter, Apocalypse just wants to end it now. It doesn’t matter if they are having a father/son relationship. He never had a son to begin with… Or was it? Apocalypse has been inpatient, waiting for his resurrection on the day of his reign. But something was kept a secret about him.
Taking focus on his battle, Apocalypse noticed that Xeios have revealed his card out. Quickly, it was headed toward to his way, but as in a flash of light, Beowulf quickly drew his sword, and slashed the card in half without any problem. He gave a fierce look at Xeios, expressing or revealing his innermost evil being. His eyes seem no longer once it was before. His body became of something that is entirely different. He gave no signs of response, for a belief moment. He took his sword and placed it back into his sheath. He did not smile, or gave any expression but float there as if he was ruler of the world. The personality of his father might have confused Beowulf for someone else, but this does not seem like Beowulf at all… He looks angry, full of hatred, and lonely… No matter for him. He charged at Xeios with his right claws rising in air, soon before he gets close to Xeios, it was covered in black flame (shadow flare). In close ranges, Beowulf slashes his claws downward at Xeios’ head multiple times. Soon, after about 7 strikes, Beowulf then would take flight again and if possible, avoid endangering himself for exposing his slight weakness. Shadow Flare – Beowulf’s father attack. Since the power focus more on Beowulf’s father, Beowulf himself could not use it more efficiently. The power built up on Beowulf’s hatred or negative energy, allowing him (Beowulf’s father) to control it without any problem. The dark orb formed in his palm, expanding in size as he close in to his opponent. The orb transformed into dark shadowy flame that covered his claws, making it into his lethal weapon. The attack can strike through a body, damaging anything within the body damaging anything the claw touch. This can even leave the skins outside perfectly intact, as if nothing damages it. The shadowy flame can not only strike the body within, but capable of making the victim feels that part of his or her life energy was sucked away. The shadowy flame can also go through a object but the physical part of the body can not go any further when the non-shadowy area hit a object. |
| Xeios Posts: 867/2954 |
Xeios let hte energy loose. It sped out in the form of a beam, arching to come out underneath of his foe, hopefully striking him at an angle, directly under his heart. Xeios wanted to end this quickly and without Shinfu, but ihe could not remove it from his hand. Father was forcing him to weild it. And attempting to teach Xeios something. Bastard...
"Son, I have a technique for you." "Not now." "It will guarentee victory." "I said, Not NOW!" Xeios began swuinting as he truly beheld the shining light in Beo's right hand. He realized that Beo was now being completely possessed by his Father. What cruelty. I must put an end to this. There is no reason that a possession should have come about, at least, not this early. Xeios drew a card, it was tipped with razer sharp metal and the edge shone between Xeios' index and middle fingers. He threw the card, following up his energy attack. The card was attempting to hit Beo in the chest. Xeios had such skill, that cards such as these would be able to cut through most metals, and would slash flesh to ribbons. |
| Rauni Posts: 521/1351 |
Beowulf floats there with any signs of replying. His eerily blank green eyes stared at Xeios for a belief moment, probably the look of death creeping up on his body. But he have not yet cared, or probably felt anything. He took his sword, Apocalypse, and sheathes it back into his sheath. His lips opened yet no words came out. Soon, Beowulf point at Xeios again…
However, he did not launch another purple beam at him again. But a rather suddenly changes occurred around Beowulf’s environment. Once that was calmed about his nature, was now burning with brimstone and flame began to rise. His body began to change unnaturally; probably the energy from his father began to distort his look. His skins seem to become somewhat darker or redder, and his eyes seem once no longer green, but now a pure evil crimson red color replaces it. His hair has fallen downward, some of them seem to changes, probably from the source of Beowulf’s energy. Although his look and face have changed, his dragonic wings seem to change into a wing of black flame. A nature source of dark energy or probably natural power that consumed Beowulf’s body whole, allowed this darker being to used the dark flame to take over the wing. Although the dragonic wing was covered in the dark flame, it remained protected although it is impossible to see the dragonic wing. Beowulf’s body, probably his entire physical appearance has changed. His own father devoured the bright version of Beowulf, his kindred hearts, have been somewhat reduced to ashes. A devilish grin appears on his face, his demonic crimson red eyes look at a demon in front of him. He lowers his index finger, being somewhat entirely different from Beowulf before. “What come after power is death. Since I already have enough power I need from this body, and I already conquer death itself, there are no need for some imposter. My son is enough for more then the world itself. I will guide my son into many countless battle, until he accept of who he is.” Beowulf’s right claw stick out in air (to his right), and a slight bickering white light appears around it. A devilish look appears on his face, although he waited for his opponent to attack. His claws were different from before. His talons seem longer, and each one of them is black. A small symbol appears on each claw, probably done by blood of the sinned people. The symbol, although not certain of it mysterious power, revealed that he is forever fated by of his being. He waited for his opponent to attack, for some reasons, although it is somewhat strange. |
| Xeios Posts: 832/2954 |
Xeios stared oddly at the purple orb, the floating, and the blank stare. He felt oddly drawn to the light, or lack thereof. He stepped a half a foot to the left, while drawing Soulsteel into his left hand. He extended the weapon so the beam met the broadside of the sword. A gleaming green light erupted from the sword. And Xeios was afraid, actually afraid of something on this planet. The weapon he long weilded, was surrounded in a black flame, and a single blood red eye appeared upon the steel. It blinked, and a strange feeling ran through Xeios' body. A voice spoke into his mind, one he had not heard in a long while.
"Greetings, Son." "Father..." "Yes, I will lend you strength through this battle. Whether it be in ancient techniques, or pure power. But, that is Apocalypse! I need to taste more of his precious soul." "Why..." "He is sheer power! With that soul we will be able to destroy whole star systems, judge millions of souls at once!" Xeios kept the reminder of his thoughts from the weapon, but the eye was still present. Xeios did not want Apocalypse's soul, He liked the fact that Beo and Apocalypse were close. But at this point he needed to utilized the strength residing in the blade. Father had been silent for very long. He thought to himself. Xeios shook his head abrubtly, and pointed the tip of the weapon at Beo. A red gathering of energy, collected at the tip, and appeared to call out the sword, to want to absorb every last bit of the soul. "Beo, as a friend I must say, do not allow this blade to tough your sword. Or even yourself. That last blast has given it a taste for your souls, and I do not wish to see the two of you parted." Xeios kept the blade pointed at Beo, the energy festering upon the tip. Nothing to do, but wait Xeios thought. |
| Rauni Posts: 519/1351 |
Beowulf, taking a notice on Xeios’ speed, believed that not only Xeios probably going easy on him but also wants to warm him up by testing him. Beowulf was already prepared, yet it is best off to start seeing how your opponent first react before judging them. Beowulf took this course of action not only reasonable but also acceptable of getting warmed up before the real fight began.
Beowulf need to get out of Xeios’ way, although he was completely clueless on why did Xeios charged at him in the first place. Beowulf ran backward, keeping his distance away from Xeios, avoiding in close ranged combat. But as the light began to erupted in a prismic formation, Beowulf sensed a slight trouble, perhaps a ripple in time that he feel that it mean danger. Soon, he heard a whisper from his sword, telling him to take cover. As the crystal shards were aimed at Beowulf, some were even aimed at other location. However, lucky for Beowulf that he was part of his father’s body, the shard of ice crystals began to shoot at a fast speed. Beowulf leaped into the air, not a moment soon before that shard of crystals would pass him by and could have impaled him. Beowulf took a moment to look at the shards, as it hit every obstacle in the cathedral, looking at ice crystals that could take Beowulf’s life Having to avoid the warmed-up attack, Beowulf seemed somewhat pleased of Xeios. He had only his shared of the moment, but playing along with Xeios’ attack give Beowulf the feeling that he could endure the attack. Although it gives him a reason to avoid his attack, he needs to keep his promises to his father. Looking at Xeios’ demonic eyes, those yellow devilish eyes, remind Beowulf when he lost all of control of himself. Perhaps today was his day to lose all control, or maybe his father will control him, consuming every part of his body. Beowulf shook his head, shrugging every thought out of his head. The painful memories have almost brought him to reality that he could once again, lose all meaning of his life. Apocalypse began to rise in temperature drastically, and then soon the blade began to shroud itself by dark black flame. Full of anger, Beowulf screamed at the top of his lung. A slight pain, or a sharp dagger perhaps, had thrust into his head but it was only mental pains that Beowulf felt. Beowulf shrugged off the mental pain, and soon the Apocalypse was released from the deadly black flame. Apocalypse, perhaps, talked to Beowulf’s thought and told him to relax. A heartbeat, Beowulf heard. Whenever it could be his opponent’s or himself, he wasn’t sure. Another heartbeat again. A comfortable feeling began to flow into Beowulf’s body, easing every tension in his muscles. Beowulf never felt more comfortable, the heartbeat smoothes his body, listening it to beat slowly. He heard his father one more time… But the word echoes throughout the cathedral. “Shh… Rest… my son.” The demonic voice came from Beowulf, but not a single lip from Beowulf’s mouth moved. He floats in the air eerily with blank green eyes on his face. He, however, seem what some people may considered soulless. His head eerily look at Xeios, revealing no emotion from his eyes. A smile, he brought a look toward to his opponent, and point his index claw at him. A small orb appeared around the index claw. The light or accurately, a dark purple orb flickers back and forth. Soon, a small source of energy from Beowulf’s body began to flow toward to that small orb, growing in size. Until it was no longer then the size of his fist, Beowulf shot a dark purple beam at Xeios. Although it was made of Beowulf’s energy, the source of his dark purple beam was created by his father’s power. It was said to pierce anyone’s soul, and also cause devastation on the victim’s body. Whenever it could be his own race or human, Apocalypse merged his energy along with Beowulf’s energy, causing it to reach it maximum potential of energy. The beam soon takes the power of mixing two energies source, merging into huge powerful attack capable of decimating any sign of life upon contact with the beam. The speed of the beam is so quick and agile; the beam can strike anything in the matter of seconds. After a swift attack, Beowulf spoke in a eerily voice. “After life is death… The souls of the underworld cry for help, yet none of us demons cared. We longed taste the blood of the sinned. This day is no different, you and I.” |
| Xeios Posts: 809/2954 |
Xeios' left man released the sheath, and the sword was held singularly in the right hand. It gleamed an unnatural gleam. His left hand made a pointing motion towards the ground between Beowulf's feet, where a shimmering red light appeared. Xeios dashed forward, his feet tapping gracefuly on the marble floor. He did not move too quickly, he wasnted his foe to see him coming, to know of the pain which would be brought out. As he reached Beo's current location, the light erupted in a prismic formation, launching crystals of ice in a 300 degree angle. Reaching every spot except where Xeios would be. The crystals would threaten to impale Beo if he had moved to dodge any direction than by going towards Xeios.
However, out of not wanting to completely trap his foe...or at this point, was it his friend? Nevertheless, to better judge Beo's ability, he stopped a foot and a half short, but stood defensively, not striking with his sword. Xeios was repectful in this situation, and he wanted to see the reaction of his foe, to make him reveal some of his power. And, as always, to see if he could learn from this new target. One rumored to be better then him. A moment of silence, the calm before the storm, a relief frm the ever-building tension. Xeios was still calm, and at ease, this man did not threaten him as of yet. The only display of power he had seen is the huge sword. It was also a display of brutishness, one that he hoped was false. This realm was filled with brutish men, men who regarded battles as ways to force themselves through. Power was a flimsy term. Power could be acheived in many more ways than the physical, there is the mental, corporeal, and metaphysical. |
| Rauni Posts: 508/1351 |
Beowulf bowed before Xeios, giving a feeling where one opponent must respect the other, no matter of who they are. When he stood back once again, he smiled with a strange feeling. Compassion or powerful relation toward to many things life, Beowulf believed that this come best in many different flavors. No matter of what happened; he never lost his compassion toward fighting. He stood before his opponent along with his father’s soul next to him. A gentle tension between Xeios and Beowulf has not only remained calm but kept them from making an all-out battle. Any true warriors should know that fighting doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know your opponent wisely.
Beowulf stood there, looking at Xeios and without any single movement yet. Although he looked directly into one of his eye, it was somewhat hard to make out of, because of the distance between Xeios and Beowulf. Although it never matter of what their appearance look like, Beowulf always believed that the secret arts of fighting skills come from whichever mind come from. Assuming that no matter how prefect or imperfect the battle is, there is always a motivation behind people. Beowulf stood there, but did not move a single inch. For some reasons, he kept his stances hold while waiting for his opponent. He always want to come last, because he always want to be the first to give and the last to take. |
| Xeios Posts: 786/2954 |
Xeios saw the spectacle of wispering to the sword. He knew what it was. Beowulf was conversing with his father's spirit, brought to a real location through the sword. Xeios had seen it before, in his once best friend, whom he found it necessary to kill. Complete death was a liberation for his friend, at least he had not found a tieing to this planet as strong as Xeios'. Xeios was to be a judge of souls. The modern day St. Peter, except instead of a gracious key, there would be a merciless sword. Soulsteel was the sword spoken of in the prophecy. It has trapped millions of souls in its self. The sword, actually once weighed merely three pounds. Not anymore, it has become overloaded with souls, such to the extent it weighs twelve tons. Heh, Xeios' fathers soul was in there somewhere. But snce the long-standing hatred for his father had begun, he had not wished to speak to him, even on his father's deathbed, Xeios was mute. He had judged him as he had judge others before. With cold silence, and hot steel.
Xeios saw this jesture as amusing, but he felt sorry for the first time in a long time. He saw this man's onnection to his father, even through death. He wondered if Beowulf had ever thought of what his father had done to his mother. He wondered if his foe even cared. He could tell that Beo held remorse for some of those he had felled. A good enough quality to allow him a second life. Xeios examined Beowulf as well. Interesting. He had talons. I wonder how much of a strategic value they provide. Seems as if they would work well in close quarters combat. He had to give his foe credit for the simple acheivements such as weaponry goes. His sword was rather large...I suppose, strying to impress a foe with big weaponry is very, very falty. Although, If Xeios chose not to screw aroungd wiht this one, he would use a large sword too. He must mean business. "None whatsoever, my friend..." Xeios brought his right hand to his heart, then saluted the man once more. His salute was a simple shae of the hand, not taking too much effort to conjure it. Almost directly after friendily saluting, his face gleamed with intensity. He slid his right foot behind his body, and bent his knees slightly. He was ready fro battle. Hir right hand was placed on the hilt of Shinfu, and his left was placed just under the hilt, but upon the sheath. He pulled sklightly on the blade, and a spark let out with the sliding of the metal. The sword, at least the inch that was revealed of the sword, had no ornate designs upon it, but shone in an uncanny light. He nodded to his foe as some of his clean shiny white hair flopped over his face. covering the left side of his face almost entirely. Xeios had no problem seeing through the bit of hair. He usually wouldn't have his eyes open to fight, allowing his inner eye to greatly overpower his normal senses, but this time, he needed to keep both open. He did so, most definitely as a sign of respect for his great foe. And allowed him the first move, should he wish to take it. |
| Rauni Posts: 497/1351 |
Beowulf took a look at Xeios, examining everything about him. But more then what just meet to Beowulf’s eyes, he saw an opponent who seem worthy for taking on, and not only that he believed that, but this may become an entertaining battle he may have to fight. The quiet sounds may be pleasing for a while, but when come to battle, even silent can be relaxing for both sides. Beowulf enjoyed the moments of the silent, nothing was bothering him, and all seem that there are more then what meets the eyes.
Here stand a person and his opponent. Whenever it may be a horror story or a tragic novel, soon or later, this battle will be for long forgotten. But as long as it will be forgotten, there will always be messages for those who already lived, and for those who need to learn the lesson in life. However, if this story will be burn, or will be forever lost, the two rivals will never forget this battle, seeing how it can be carried on to the next life… Perhaps there may be a story behind this; Beowulf believed that no matter how torn or forgotten it is, there is always a place that lives in their heart. Beowulf looked at Xeios, even through he is today opponent, and there is always tomorrow as a friend. Beowulf smiled at Xeios, and then raised his sword with his right claw. Grasping it as tightly as he can, Beowulf looked at Apocalypse, whispering at it even through most don’t understand why would a person speak to their sword, trying to tell his father’s spirit something. After a moment, Beowulf stops whispering to his sword, which said to have his father’s life in it, although it isn’t accurately true. Apocalypse has Beowulf’s father’s heart, his body, his mind, but his souls will always be bind to his son’s body. Given a few times, Beowulf nodded in attempt to understood his father’s feeling. “I understand…” Although it wasn’t fully understood of what Beowulf is saying, it is an easy guess that he was talking something personal about regarding his father. For now, it is Beowulf’s darkest secret that he has yet to reveal for a time being. He gave look at Xeios, with a slight smile and somewhat uneasiness on his face. He pointed his sword at Xeios, trying to get his point across. “No hard feeling, eh?” With that question he asked, he waited for his reply. |
| Xeios Posts: 785/2954 |
Xeios responded positively to Beowulf. He was neither intimidated or afraid. He too, walked from the between the peus to the main aisle. A large cross hung in front of him, and behind Beo. Staring at them with some sort of exponential compassion, and a longing for the pease. But as if the statue knew there would not be peace, it appeared to shrink back. A thin line of blood trickling from the crown atop its head, the wound on its side, and on its feet and hands. Xeios made a sign of his power by causing the blood to flow. This would make ordinary humans believe even more, and think it a miracle. But what happened next would be only caused by demons. The statue began to steam in the places where the blood streamed by. Soon, large crevices were carved into the being, in the form of an upside down pentagram. Though this was not necessarily a sign of evil, it was the opposite of the entagram, which is a sign of beauty. So the upside down pentagram meant merely to be the unbeautiful. Blood dripped eeirily from the idolic statue. Xeios began glowing a deep crimson color, this glow was actually a fine mist of blood surrounding him. His bandages, which were clean and white were not stained by this mist, and the blood which condensed on Xeios' body ran off with no stains or markings. Xeios clenched his fists, and the blood launched into his wrists. Absorbing at once. He placed his hands in his pockets. He smiled an attractive smile. Beowulf seemed like he would be a fun opponent, and as it apeared, he came from the same sort of upbrining as Xeios. His father, gone and dead, his mother, also dead. Demonic father, Human mother. They had more in common, but Xeios could not care to find any more information out first. He raised his left hand to his forehead, and gave a small salute.
"This will be fun, and by all means, don't hold back. I need a challenge amongst the common playthings." Xeios ran his right hand through his long white hair, fixing it, and making it neat. His left boot tapped impatiently, as his left hand reached into his left pocket. From which, he pulled a single cigarette, Newport, and a Zippo brand lighter. He placed the cigarette in his mouth, and lit it. With the flick of his wrist, he closed the lighter. Putting out the flame. he replaced the lighter in his pocket, and took a puff. Smoke trailed thinly from the end of his cigarette, and he grinned once again. |
| Rauni Posts: 496/1351 |
Beowulf was sitting on a coated oak bench. He raised his feet and landed it on the bench in front of him. Although he wasn’t too far from the door, or too close to it, he was just in the middle row, on the left side where you face toward to the door from the avatar. Normally, this strange human appearance was somewhat real, except that his bloodlines run differently from any human being. He may be a human on the outside, but he was a demon in his heart. Perhaps if he was cursed to be that way, he would look for a reason of why does he is fully a demon but look as a human.
Beowulf shook and nods his head, trying to escape the horrible memories. But were those memories that someone made up to help Beowulf become of what he is meant to be, or were they there to provide Beowulf more pain and hatred? Beowulf looked at Xeios with his colorful green eyes, each one seem blank or was drugged. Maybe he may not remember about his life, but he can only change the future for him. With a blank stare at Xeios, Beowulf seems to chuckles eerily at the moment. A katana, Apocalypse, was just next to him, standing on the brick floor. Although it was already struck into the ground, it stood still quietly and without anything, a scent of fiery hatred began to fill the room. It was already known that Beowulf’s father, Apocalypse, was sealed away in the sword. The sword that was used against Apocalypse was said to have the power that can split the planet into half. But when Apocalypse was struck by this sword, he did not die yet. He was sealed away into that sword, and that sword began to shroud into darkness. It became a sword where Apocalypse’s power and part of his soul live in it. According to most prophecy, the sword was said to devour the victim’s life, forever binding to Apocalypse’s will with a single strike. However, the son of Apocalypse was also said to be the only one who have the power to wield Apocalypse. Apocalypse have not only given his son some of his power, but also blessed him to be part of Apocalypse’s mind, body, spirit, and finally, a heart. Beowulf was part of Apocalypse’s soul, but when Apocalypse is revived once again, Beowulf then must give up his father’s soul and he will forever be his son again. But since it was just a prophecy, Beowulf has not finished his task yet. His blonde hair was in the way of his face, making it somewhat harder to examine his face. With his dark gothic robe on his body, his clothing seems to make Beowulf looks like he was one of the evil cultist worshippers. On Beowulf’s hands, you can see some sharp dark talons, perhaps it was designed for Beowulf’s claw. Also, his dark talons appeared on his foot as well. His wings, however, are not yet visible for the time being. He must have its cover his back, and it is probably stronger too. Perhaps it was used to protect his back. Overall, even Beowulf looks somewhat unusual wearing a dark gothic robe that extends from to his neck to the ankle of his feet. A small red sash is wrapped around Beowulf’s hips, probably to hold up his robe. Silently, he pulls back his feet and land it on top of the floor. He stood up, looking at his today’s opponent. When he saw Xeios, he knew that he must fight again, unless he completely satisfies his father that something Beowulf can’t avoid. He went over to his Apocalypse, a 3 and a half foot long katana which made of powerful substances and unknown materials. He pulled Apocalypse out and gave a quick smile at Xeios. Perhaps to him, it is just a wonderful day for fighting. “Ah, it is good to see you… Yes, I believed that soon or later, you must knowledge the effort and the power used for fighting. As long as you keep your determination, only your enemy would stand in its way… I have no intention of going easy on you, seeing how you want to knowledge my power.” With that said, Beowulf walked over to the aisle, between the two benches on each side. He smiled at his opponent one more time, showing his compassion for fighting and his skill for believing. |
| Xeios Posts: 783/2954 |
Yada yada, normal rules, no special ones, and not discounting any...
---------- 'In the beginning was the word, and the word was good...' A man mused to himself reading the specifics of this human made text. One which either metaphorically, or historically accurate. It was not known for certain. People worshipped this book, actually about 1/6th worshipped this version alone. Many, many others worshipped slight variations of this faith and book. Each taking their own twists and adding them to the mix. One reason why the faith must be incorrect. If it were a true faith, if the longing for a patriorical being, protecting this world from all that wishes to do us harm, there would be one, consolidated faith, and everyone wuld know it to be true, even the few that resist the belief in the one faith. 'I am one of these resisters, but I know for a fact that this religon is false. I have died, and have been brought back. There was no such outer realm, there was no said heaven among the galaxies. There was blackness, a lack of hope, and the shocking truth, that there was no golden gate above the clouds, waiting for the faithful and pure. For the time when I died I was pure, and brought back as an impure.' The man thought to himself, pondering over the ancient text. He turned a page loudly, the silence was eerie, but this sudden noise shocked a rather old and feeblle woman in front of the man. The page tore at the corner, making a cringe upon the faithful's faces. The man smirked triumphantly, they would defend their faith to the death, at least that is what they tell their god, but they do not mean it, upon the facing of this dire question, whether they should fight for their faith and die, or live in cowardice, praying for forgiveness, brings about a great uncertainty. The man slowly lifted his feet, held in large black combat boots. He rose them to the peu in front of himself, and laid them there, slightly crossed and moving in a small back and forth motion. The man's black leather pants had a certain shine to some parts of them. The pants fit him rather tightly, but the man could move in them very well, for they had been used in many battles to loosen them up. Slight rips were visable at the knee and lower thigh. The ends of the pants were sort of raggy, but they were useful. The bottoms of his pants were slightly more baggy, as they had been made in a boot cut style. His pants were not held up by a belt, though there was a belt present. The white belt was strung through the left belt loop, but left to hang across the right side. The buckle, had an iron cross on it. A symbol the man liked for its meanings, all of them except for the falsified religion it represented. In the center of the buckle, was "XgF Middleweight Champ." Signifying that the man held some sort of championship postion. his chest was bare, or would be if he had not wrapped cloth bandages on them. These bandages, wrapped all the way to the man's arms, and his hands, but did not cover the fingers. However upon each finger was a single ebony ring. Tarnished silver actually, but nonetheless. His upper-right chest was covered by a black adamantine breastplate. It covered only the said area, and was held on by black straps. He wore a crimson dress-shirt, longsleeve(but with the sleeves rolled up). His long white hair hung in his face for the time being. But they could not hide his yellow demon eyes. Eyes which could see into the souls of those he met. They struck fear in the hearts of man. He slowly stood, lowering his feet and making his self seen. He was about 5'11" and weighed approximately 135 lbs. His teeth had slightly pointed canines, steriotypical of vampires, tough vampire he was not, this man was half-demon. His father was the demon of blood, Daluria, and because of this he somewhat resembled a vampire. He raised his hands from the book, letting it drop to the floor, and brushed his hair from his face. He was attractive, and apeared to be not a day older than twenty. His smile was entrancing. Thump, the book collided with the ground, and the man lept to the back of a peu. There he stood, perfectly balanced and being atared at by the reverend and the revered. his sword was seen, both of them. The one at his side, with a three fot long blade, a katana, named Shinfu, and held in a black-metal sheath. and the one on his back, held onto the back of his pants parralel to the ground, by thick white buckles and straps. The blade on his back was known as Soulsteel, and was two feet in length. The size of a large dagger. Which is what it was. Thos ethat looked at the man did not seem to care that he dropped their holy book, they actually seemed to be frozen in fear. An effect the man tended to have. The people suddeny rose, and walked from the large cathedral, seemingly hypnotized. The man grinned, as one person remained. "So, you are my challenger. The name's Xeios, thank you for the belt, but I feel that we needed to fight at least to acknowledge my true earning of the belt." Xeios smiled evilly, he did not seem to be physically strong, yet he had more power than he looked, for Soulsteel weighed about 12 tons... |
