Avatar of Lalliman
  • Last Seen: 12 days ago
  • Old Guild Username: Lalliman
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 546 (0.15 / day)
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    1. Lalliman 10 yrs ago

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Word of the Splatterer’s return spread like wildfire, alerting heroes big and small all across the nation that it was time to act. Of course, even among heroes, few had the guts to take on a being so vile and notorious as the Splatterer. Even fewer had the means to make their way to the scene in time. One of the few who did was Lychinus, the guardian angel. When he heard of the ongoing massacre, he knew there was no time to waste, no chance to wait for reinforcements from his allies. Conjuring his radiant wings from his back, he roared off into the air with a sonic boom, heading straight for the scene of the attack.

He arrived roughly in conjunction with the others, floating high above the demolished streets, looking down upon the devastation. He couldn’t see them, since there was smoke and debris everywhere, but he could sense that others had come to the rescue. He could see their souls, like luminescent wisps, cutting straight through the obscuring smoke.

Among the dim signatures of the normal people – the fleeing and the dying – three powerful souls stood out. One was red: passionate and reckless, burning with the power of a primordial being. The other was blue: caring and resolute, thrumming with the power of unbound human potential. The last was green: scarred and terrible, an unnatural being of unparalleled hatred. The sight of it made him feel sick in a way he didn’t even know was possible. That was the Splatterer alright. Lychinus had never met him before, but from his uniquely vile aura, there was no doubting it.

Remaining in the air, he thrust out his arm and caused a bar of radiant white energy to form in his clenched fist. The bar soon formed into the shape of a sword, three feet long with a broad, heavy blade and a sharply tapered point. He took a few valuable seconds to channel all the power he could into the sword, tempering it to maximum strength. He couldn’t take any chances against this foe. Then, with his weapon in hand, he flew down at great speed, into the billowing smoke, approaching the monster’s signature.
Hofstadter's law. If you say you're gonna do it in the morning, you're definitely gonna do it in the evening instead.

I'll get a post up soon. Changes can still be made to the character after I posted, in case something is out of line.

Edit: Holy crap, your post arrived in between me pressing the Send button and my computer successfully refreshing the page.
Could this battle be as hilarious as the one where my armored guy is being assaulted by an army of cats?

Well, it's hard to beat a fight involving Obadiah, Big Martin and Kentucky Tom in the hilarity department.

But watching LeeRoy getting in way over his head has got to be interesting to say the least.
I shall post a suitable character tomorrow morning!

Can't wait for utter chaos to unfold.
While Obadiah’s sword struck solid steel, forcing him to conclude that a frontal attack wasn’t going to work, his spider sense tingled at something behind him. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see a 500 pound tiger that wasn’t there before leaping past. This cat-man was certainly full of surprises. But Obadiah wasn’t one to look a gift tiger in the mouth.

He stood back for a moment as the tiger attempted to slam Anom to the ground. If it succeeded in toppling him, Obadiah would make a high jump, over the knight and the feline, to land near Anom’s head. The knight’s most obvious weakness: the single broad eye slit on the front of his helmet. Obadiah didn’t know what was underneath, but this was the easiest shot he was likely to get. Flipping one of his swords into a backwards grip, he would lift it up and plunge it down towards the knight’s face, aiming to stab him in the eye through the visor of his helmet.
How was I not aware of this hilarious thread? I definitely want to see this, and maybe join if that's still possible. After all, four people is still quite an end away from "as many as possible".

@Skallagrim I also totally thought the guy on Youtube was you. It seemed to fit given what I've seen of the both of you. But I suppose you've heard that before.
We're stagnatin', son!
The second ball of webbing splattered against the wall of the castle, a small distance behind the knight. Obadiah hadn't expected him to move so suddenly, and sharpshooting wasn't his forte to begin with. When he prepared to adjust his aim and fire again, a more pressing concern presented itself, in the form of a bunch of flying daggers. The aim was sloppy, but the spread made it dangerous. Thankfully, Obadiah had more arms than just the ones holding his cannon-hat. With a quick hop to the right, he put himself out of the way of most of the daggers, leaving only one coming straight at him. There was a flash of silver and a metallic bing as he struck the final dagger out of the air with his cane sword, sending it scattering away.

"Now, where was I?" he said to himself as he resumed aim with his hat. Only to notice a big tear in the top of it, where one of the daggers had gone through. "Bastard." He was perhaps a bit rustier than he thought, and now his hat couldn't fire anymore. No matter. He tossed it aside and pulled three additional canes from the pockets of his vest, an act that would've seemed obviously impossible to a bystander. He flicked off the wooden sheaths, revealing the steel blades, and advanced towards the knight with a great leaping stride. He was still oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind him. Obadiah wasn't in the habit of paying too much attention to his greater surroundings. After all, his spider sense would warn him if something came close to threatening him.

With two great leaps, he landed in front of the cat-swarmed knight, brandishing all four of his swords. He contemplated for a brief moment. How does one hurt someone to heavily armoured? Armpits were usually a weak spot, but those were strangely enough obstructed by cats. Instead he went for something within easy reach, making a single lunging stab for the knight's left knee, hoping to jab the point of his sword into the grooves of his armour. At this point, it was more about gauging the strength of his armour than about delivering a serious wound.
I'll be posting later today.
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