New link in the top of page "IRC Chat".
Register | Login
Views: 93076358
Main | Memberlist | Active users | Calendar | Last Posts | IRC Chat | Online users
Ranks | FAQ | XPW | Stats | Color Chart | Photo album
01-28-21 07:46 AM
0 users currently in Sim-Battle Arena.
Xeogaming Forums - Sim-Battle Arena - Challenge to Kaijin | | Thread closed
Next newer thread | Next older thread
User Post
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 4145 days
Last activity: 4057 days
Posted on 07-21-05 02:56 PM Link
Well..i do believe it is time for someone to take the Legendary title of yours.

Rules:

Open style (no god-modding or unjustified meta-gaming).
I work. A lot. There will be no time limit on replies (but try to post when you have the time).

Not rules, but things you should know:

You do not have a profile up..so i will not be posting one.
This IS a title bout.
If you use your Vampire character..be aware that "Night"s blood is quite similar. You will find him immune to its acidic properties. And if you think it will be able to counter the magic of the Runic Tongue inscribed on his equipment..well, it will not.
There will be no power limit on this fight..so come prepared.
Night is old. He is strong. He doesn't hold much regard for...anything. If insulting your character is appropriate IC, do NOT take it as an OOC flame.
Now...two tips for you: 1: Using your average elements in this fight is a...bad idea.
2: This intro uses the weakest form of my character. In fact, it is more of a grouping of different beings than "Night". Keep this in mind when attacking, and be aware that he will shed this form shortly.

This is an intro. Thus, it can be as long-winded as i see fit. And it IS long..but i suggest reading through it. Most of the profanities have been edited, if you're the sensitive type.

Basic Info:

Setting: Busy city (LA).
Planet: Earth.
Atmosphere: Electrically charged, but less ambient energy by the second.
Temperature: 47 degrees and falling.
Wind speed: 61 mph SSW and growing.
Time: 7:49 pm pst.

WARNING!!!!!!!!! VERY strong language/violence ahead. Edited for the anally retentive among us, but be aware none-the-less.

New Acoma. A small town 80 miles or so from Los Angeles. The definition of a hole in the mud...a grocery mart, bank, pub, and a dozen scattered homes were all it could claim. For some reason...one that escaped him even then..he had chosen this place.

In Rube's Pub, sitting silently at the bar with arms resting on the stained, pocked counter and shoulders slumped forward, sat a man named Levitireis Drakes. One hand clung weakly to a dirty glass containing what was left of a Black Russian. The fingers of the other tapped rapidly on the counter in growing aggitation. Aside from Rube, who stood casually behind the bar with his eyes glued to the dusty television in the corner, three other men occupied the pub, all sitting at same table, and each undoubtedly on his fifth beer. They weren't typical barflies..instead, leather-clad self-deemed "bad asses" who, as it would seem, had no greater pleasure than making noise.

One of them, a heavy-set man in his forties with an unkempt, ragged beard and knotted ponytail rose unsteadily, nearing flipping the table on it's face before he found his balance. With a drunken swagger he walked over to Levitreis and set a paw-like hand on the mans shoulder.

"Heyeh f@&&ot" he said, his words barely coherent thanks to the slur they carried,

"Wey've been sittin her all dayumed night, and you havin't said hello. Why the fuck not?"

"Get your goddamned hand off me." Levitreis replied, his voice deep, rough.

"Wha you say to me boy?"

Before Levitreis could answer, a voice sounded from behind the counter. It seemed that Rube had managed to pry himself away from the television long enough to notice what was going on.

"Now you listen up, Dave. I told you three last time, real clear...you come in startin' fights in MY bar, and i'll call the fucking cops. You leave the man be, sit back down, and shut the hell up."

"You aint got NO rights to be talkin to me like that. Me and..uhh..my boys are gunna do whatever we want, and you aint got jack about shit to say about it."

"Now, f@&&ot..say hallo to me."

"Dave, i'm warning you.."

"Oh yeah? Then you try'an warn my little friend here."

With a half-cocked smile Dave lifted his dingy leather jacket, revealing the black grip and gleaming silver cyllinder of the .38 revolver tucked into his jeans.

"Al...alright Dave, just calm down..."

"YOU calm down, you piece'a shit." Dave said, then he turned his attention back on Levetreis. Rube, on the other hand, got quiet. He slipped his hand under the bar and starting feeling around for his old Beretta.

"What'ss wrong, f@&&ot...you to good to say hallo? Sittin there with your fancy jacket and....shiny hair..." he said, refering to Levitreis' black suede jacket and the loose, gleaming black hair that hung to the middle of his back.

"Mebbe hes a woman!" one of Dave's buddies called from the table.

"Is that it, f@&&ot? Are'ya a woman?" Dave said, then broke into half-choked laughter.

"Fuck off. was Levitreis' only reply.

"You little..."

Dave, his hand still on Levitreis' shoulder, gave him a hard shove towards the bar. His drink slid out of his hand, gliding across the counter's surface for a second before falling to shatter near Rube's feet. The bartender jumped as if he'd been shot, slamming his hand on the bottom of the countertop.

"Goddamnit!" he mumbled under his breath, then starting fumbling for the Beretta again.

Without a word Levitreis spun the barstool beneath him towards Dave, then drove his black calve-high military boots into the scarred wooden floor to face the man. He had just wanted a drink..he didn't have time for this. He had places to be.

Despite his drunken stupor, the first thing Dave noticed were the sunglasses. The f@&&ot wore black framed oakleys, despite the fact that the pub was lit by nothing more than a few scattered bulbs. He had expected something else...a pretty man with girlish features and dull eyes. Instead, he found a rough, pale, and unnervingly intimidating face looking up into his..and though he couldn't see them, he knew that this man's eyes were far from dull. They would be sharp, he thought...bird's eyes.

"We....well....a tough guy, huh?" Dave said, some of the bravado disappearing from his voice.

"I guess we're gunna havta show you want happens to tough guy fa&&ots. Ain't we boys!"

"Damn straight" one of the men at the table called back. He stood and walked to Levitreis' left. The other sat where he was, apparently to drunk to care.

"Now get the fuck up." Dave said.

It wasn't until Levitreis did that Dave realized that, somewhere in the back of his mind, a thread of fear had creeped in.

Levitreis stood, clad all in black, and looked from side to side. Dave slightly to his right, his friend to the left...and an overly worn pool table straight ahead. He was, for all practical purposes, trapped.

"Fine." he said aloud. He seemed to gaze through Dave as he addressed him,

"Don't fucking move. You're last."

Levitreis turned his attention to the other man...greasy brown hair, flattened nose, and a disgustingly gaudy pendant, gold-plated metal in the shape of a giant R.

The man noticed Levitreis' gaze, his head angled downward towards the pendant.

"Don't like it? Too bad. Besides..lookit you" he said, gesturing towards the simple amulet that hung around Levitreis' neck. Nothing more than a strange hue of gold and an unassuming black stone.

Levitreis didn't reply. Instead, be began walking towards the man. He reached his left hand out, grabbing the pool que that rested against the faded green of the pool table's top.

He let the que slide towards the floor, tightening his grip about seven inchs from it's bottom. He brought it up, put his right hand above his left, and swung.

The blow cought the man in the temple with enough force to shatter the thick wood of the que's base. He was dead before he had time to realize what had happened, the hit snapping his neck and sending him sprawling across the pool table.

Levitreis followed the swing through, pulling his left hand away after the blow. As the que reached his right he he opened his fist and let it fly.

The que, now little more than a splintered shaft of wood, cought the man at the table in his left arm. What was left broke apart on impact, but the force of the throw pushed the long splinters on, through the mans arm and into his chest cavity. He barely had time to gasp before he slumped forward onto the table, blood already trickling from his gaping mouth to pool around his head.

Levitreis turned to his right, only to see a glimpse of a wild, looping punch before it struck.

Dave hadn't seen what had happened..not all of it..but had seen enough to know that he had made a mistake. A big one. He didn't have time to think about it...the force that would have to be behind the swing that took Randy out. Maybe if he had, he would have thought to run.

If he had of been sober, the punch would have connected perfectly..but as it was, it just managed to graze Levitreis' cheek, brushing the sunglasses from his face.

Dave's jaw dropped to the floor. He stumbled back a step, and his mouth started moving rapidly, as if he were trying to form a word. The eyes he saw behind the glasses were not sharp eyes. They wern't birds eyes. They wern't the eyes of anything he knew. His jeans slowly darkened as a stream of urine trickled down his leg.

The eyes that sat within Levitreis' head were ink black. At least, most of them. The irises were dark grey, and the pupils a bright shade of silver. They were anything but the eyes of a man.

"I thought i told you not to move." Levitreis said.

"Wha....wha the fuck...." was all Dave could reply. He clumsily fumbled for the gun tucked away in his pants, pulled it out with a shaking hand, aimed, and fired.

The round cought Levitreis in the left shoulder. It should have knocked him down, but instead he slid back a foot and a half, stopped, and doubled over.

Levitries stood, his lips curled into a savage snarl. His eyes, haunting enough before, were alive with a ghostly blue light. The chairs..tables..even the bar itself began shaking, rumbling together in a low, bass-filled hum.

Dave watched him rise, frozen, unable to fire off another shot.

The static-filled hum continued to grow, reverberating in Dave's chest like the beat of a great drum. He could feel his heart vibrating, almost as if he were being electrocuted.

A flash of blue light filled the bar, it's blinding intenisty masking Levitries's next action. A split second later, the front of Rubes pub ceased to exist.

If Rube had managed to stay conscious, he wouldn't have stayed that way for long. Half of his building was gone, most of it reduced to splinters embedded in the brick walls of the Bank across the street. Mecifully, he had passed out before the initial blast. Dave, however...

What was left of him had joined the shattered remains that now adorned the Bank. His upper torso hung pinned to the wall by the remains of a two-by-four, his face frozen in a permenant expression of undiluted shock.

With a tired, strained sigh Levitreis turned, scouring the floor behind him. After a moment, he bent to retrieve his sunglasses, placed them back over his eyes, and walked towards Dave.

"You couldn't have left me along, could you?"

With that, he turned and looked and the damage.

"You're kidding me...." he said with a mix of surprise and anger. His car, a simple red Civic, was covered by a large slab of plaster and concrete. Naturally, the only vehicle which looked even semi-functional was Daves Harley Fatboy. And he detested Motorcycles.

"Look at what you made me do" he said, turning back to Dave. "You know what? It's fine. It'll be a miracle if your bike makes it half-way to LA..but it's fine." He reached into Daves front pocket, felt around, and pulled out his keys.

Two and a half hours later, he found himself at his destination. He stopped the bike, flipped the kickstand, got off onto the small side street he had rode in on, and looked towards the four-way intersection to his left. In any direction, as far as the eye could see, were people. They crowded the sidewalks..drove past him in any number of vehicles...stood in the windows of the various office buildings that dotted the skyline looking down onto the city. Had he been of different mind, he would have found himself oddly bemused by the fact that most of these people were about to die, and yet they strolled on obliviously. As it was, we was as oblivious as the rest of them. None the less, he couldn't help but stare as they trudged on towards some unknown goal, some pausing to throw him a dismissive glance, most concerned only with their destinations.

[color=gray]None of them will make it home. They will never see their wives or children..their fathers..sisters..friends..lovers..and it will be because of you. You will kill every last one of them, directly or indirectly. All those lives...all that loss...how do you FEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeel...

The voice was like a memory, some long-forgotten thought played out in a low, hissing whisper. Levtreis dismissed it as such...some odd auditory hallucination, meaningless, unimportant...as he always did.

Dusk had fallen on the city, and with it came the wind. Strong, clean, hot as steam. Most undoubted dismissed it as the Santa Anas, even as it grew, intensified to something nearly frightening. And they contined to dismiss it...until the sound of chattering teeth began to drown the roar of the car-lined streets.

The temperature had dropped so suddenly, so intensely, it was almost difficult to realize. From searing heat to bitter cold...and the wind continued to grow unhindered.

Even Levitreis found himself at the mercy of the gale. He ground his heels into the loose asphault, his jacket and hair flung backwards with equal ferocity. He didn't stop to notice that, instead of chilled to the bone, he was growing ever-warmer.

He shifted his gaze upwards, to the orange sun already sitting low in the sky. The once-bright orb was already half gone, swallowed by gathering clouds, ominous, so dark they were almost black. Streaks of lightning tore through the sky, silent yet impossiblely bright, cleaving the air where moments before there was nothing but a light haze of smog.

Well...This will have to do, won't it. With the day i've had, why not. Now where the hell are they.


(Last edited by Leviathan on 07-21-05 06:51 PM)
Kaijin Surohm
Living the dream








Since: 08-16-04

Since last post: 283 days
Last activity: 157 days
Posted on 07-21-05 03:41 PM Link
I cannot accept this fight, for it is not valid with the rules. If you wish to fight me for my title, you must fight with the pre-made rules we have posted in the Sim Disscussions thread.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 4145 days
Last activity: 4057 days
Posted on 07-21-05 03:52 PM Link
Hmm...

Sorry to have to say this..but your hesitance to participate without following your "rules" makes me think that this will be even less of a challenge than i thought.

Edited to comply with the "rules". Shall you accept now?
Kaijin Surohm
Living the dream








Since: 08-16-04

Since last post: 283 days
Last activity: 157 days
Posted on 07-21-05 04:09 PM Link
(The hell is up with you guys and completly unnessicary stories o.O Alteast you were nice enough to break up your story, instead of having one giant block of text)

He mused to himself as he sat on the roof of a building. He leaned over the edge, with the heels of his blood red plated boots pressed against the wall, as they dangeled from the edge... His black trenchcoat hung losely around his shoulders, mainly being held up by a pair of blood red shoulder plates. His right arm was the only other limb he had armored, wrapped in a blood red armplate, with a spike comming past his elbow...

Kaijin grinned as he looke down at the city streets, the cars moving by. His peircing green cat-like eyes watched the motion of the city as if it were all in slow motion... His look was grimicing, with two scars on his face. One started from the upper left of his forehead, and carved itself down to the lower right portion of his jaw. The other scar was smaller, as it started on his lower right jaw, and just made a short cut up to the middle of his left cheek.

The air was cold... he could feel that a death would happen tonight... He loved that feeling... Now then, the wait began...
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 4145 days
Last activity: 4057 days
Posted on 07-23-05 01:38 PM Link
(As i said..i work. A lot. I've clocked over 26 hours in the past two days..so i haven't had much time to post. This will be edited with a reply when time allows..hopefully today)

Kaijin - Just delete this post and re-post when you decided to fight me. That way I won't have to guess when you do.


(Last edited by Kaijin Surohm on 07-27-05 05:13 PM)
Cyro Xero

Rune Mage

Rave Atom








Since: 02-23-05
From: Minnesota!!

Since last post: 1443 days
Last activity: 1356 days
Posted on 08-03-05 12:27 PM Link
The time limit has past for replying. You may start a new fight if you wish.
Next newer thread | Next older thread
Xeogaming Forums - Sim-Battle Arena - Challenge to Kaijin | Thread closed



xeogaming.org

AcmlmBoard 1.92++ r4 Baseline
?2000-2013 Acmlm, Emuz, Blades, Xkeeper, DarkSlaya*, Lord Alexandor*
*Unofficial Updates
Page rendered in 0.074 seconds.
0.029