Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Despite it being the late hours, the swamp was still hot and muggy. Mosquitoes filled the air, leeches filled the water, and a monster occupied the mud banks. It emerged from its doze with a lazy awareness. It stretched through the mire, slowly contracting to pull itself forwards, resembling a half-ton earthworm.

An intruder? No. The Magna Pater did not feel as if its rights had been violated. This was a guest, someone that was welcome. It paused, a single rugose ear perking from its muddy head with a wet squelch. It could hear the shape of its guest, estimate their weight based upon the sound of their feet, their height from their breath, their strength from their heartbeat. This one was powerful, perhaps the strongest creature the Magna Pater had ever encountered. This upset it. The Magna Pater didn't like challenge, it didn't like difficulty or change. This guest was too strong to be allowed to exist. The monster began squirming towards its guest, seventy meters away.


Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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Left talon, left paw, right talon, right paw; this was the equine-like gait that carried the visitor forth. A titanic creature, his very footsteps shook the ground with each step. Even though the conditions were tolerable, this wasn't the kind of place the Griffintaur frequented. He much preferred clear bodies of water or the vastness of mountainsides. Not even an hour prior he was settled in an underground cave. But something severed him from his temporary home, a subconscious curiosity like something was pulling him in. It eventually lead him here, and he would soon see the horrors that attracted him.

The threat was too far away for his more traditional senses to register. The natural ambiance of the area and the native critters made such difficult. But that didn't mean he was completely unaware. The hybrid was all too familiar with the hunt, and his innate predatory sense alerted him of the impending danger. Stopping directly in his tracks, the beast hunkered down somewhat into a much more readied stance. The Magna Pater would hear a low growl emanating from the distance, almost like a warning to back away in hopes of preventing unneeded bloodshed. Though something told him to be prepared for the unimaginable. The presence of this foe was quite unlike many things Tharraleos has encountered. All he could do was stand his ground and wait.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Seconds slipped by, turning into minutes. Toads groaned, crickets chirped away. The resident wildlife hadn't noticed anything. Somewhere in the distance a tree could be heard snapping. The muffled wing beats of an owl seven yards behind Grif-...

The wing beats were abruptly cut off, as if the owl, after making an untimely and unexpected alteration in its course, had just popped out of reality. Grif could turn around, but he'd be able to feel a clammy tide of nauseous apprehension prickling at his back, and a definite feeling that laying eyes upon whatever it was would have ghastly repercussions. It was all conjecture, pure emotion and instinct, but if it was, then why had the ambiance died? The swamp was silent, save for the rare gurgle of a small sinkhole opening up near the mire. It was waiting for Grif to turn, ready to welcome its guest in a more formal manner, surprise freshly spoiled.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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It happened all in the blink of an eye, before the hybrid could conjure a reaction. This sickening heir of pure terror lurking just behind him. In a rare feat, Tharr defied his inherent warrior disposition of facing the threat head on. Instead, he retained his usual tranquility, only twisting his minor portion so the monster would fall under peripheral vision. The round, black pupils would not peer directly at the Magna Pater, but dangerously close nevertheless.

"What pits of Hell did you emerge from?" The avian feline addressed nonchalantly, feeling his usual diplomacy would fall on deaf ears. His body was still like a statue, all focus pinpointed on his foe. Though his words weren't ridden with fear, another sensation seldom experienced so quickly took place. Tharr's strength rivaled his hubris at times, though he was well aware when not to let such lead to his demise. This was different. His duo of hearts within their respective torsos were pounding from adrenaline at the thought of combating such ferocity. The thrill of combat flooding through him awarded a small stockpile of hidden energy for further use.

[Combat Reserve +4]

As his heart rate returned to normal, a light snort escaped the nares of his bill, feline tail swaying laterally as if ready to strike. With his back against his foe, the tools of Tharraleos remain aplenty. Not only was the extensive, steel-tipped club he was swinging about now, but above it was a fan of razor edged tail feathers ready to flare out into a semicircle. The wings acting as his minor upper arms could assist, as well as deadly bucking kicks with the use of his formidable talons. It seems defense was his first priority, and test the abilities of creature thing while doing so in this fight of life or death.



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Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Surprisingly, Grif's inquiry was answered, though not with words. It was a reverberating cackle in uncontained pitch, a baby's swooping wails mingled with the hitching yowls of a cat, slowed down to an almost painful stretch and of rasping tone as if emanating from within a shitty transistor radio. In the monster's experience, at this point most men would have already soiled their drawers in fear. The sound felt like it was everywhere at once. It seemed as if monster was laughing inside of Grif's own brain, the sound somehow permeating consciousness itself. There was no need for interpretation. Like the premonition of its appearance, this facet of the creature also seemed to operate on transcendental wavelengths. The meaning was certain. It was going to do its darndest to show Grif that Hell was just a phrase and a symbol, and a paltry one at that.

The monster abruptly bolted around towards whichever flank Grif had his head perked towards, attempting to weave into his line of sight. Its acceleration was incredible, tearing from 0 to 25 mph during the single second it needed to close the distance of twenty meters between them. As Grif was trying to keep the barest outline of its form in the corner of his eye, it'd be exceedingly difficult to keep from seeing it in full with so little warning. Its eyes were wide open, bulging nearly out of its rubbery face, and if Grif looked he'd see that it had the same eyes as he did, the same color and familiar intelligence, only grotesquely enlarged and phosphorescent in the darkness, full to brimming with terrible emotion.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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Tharr's stance held firm as stone as his mind was seemingly invaded by the all encompassing sounds of the monster. He winced noticeably, a bead of sweat trailing down his feathered face. This intensity was unreal and more vile than anything the likes of even the Sin embodied Malefor could generate. And why couldn't he look directly at this thing? It's appearance or presence alone wouldn't stir the amphibious hybrid one bit. But the ominous concept of dangerous consequences kept his gaze clear.

Even with his visible discomfort, his readiness for the faintest of movements held true. The instant its slimy claws made a move to close the gap, the nearly sentient appendage reacted accordingly. By the monster's second stride, the tufted end was sent to the ground in the blink of an eye. Tharr knew his reaction was to be swift for success and had focused a majority of his muscle strength to whip it downwards. Its density and naturally immense momentum caused the ground to trembled violently. While this would have a chance to cause unbalance to marginally slow the creature down, the real threat was the very precise tremor of splitting ground careening straight for the Magna Pater to cause added loss of footing.

Since Tharraleos was aware this would do little to impede the advance, the beast induced a short hop, flipping his entire body clockwise 180 degrees to face his foe at last, nictitating membrane sweeping horizontally across his eyes, their translucency hopefully sufficing on shielding his eyes. His right wing flared out in the midst of this leap in a backhanded strike aiming for the attacker itself as the distance was lessened. The force of this blow was augmented by the weight of his soon, giving enough extra force behind it to inflict some kind of hindrance if connected. Whatever tooth, horn or claw that needed to be used afterwards would be utilized to their fullest to rid Tharr of this pest.



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Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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The Magna Pater moved by yanking itself along with its arms as the bunching loops of its tail continuously propelled it forwards. Its weight spread far across the ground. Because of this its center of gravity and balance was more or less unaffected by the tremor. Likewise the immense stride of its arms, which could cover more ground than a cheetah, overtook the crack and its body easily slid right over it with nary a pause. By the time Tharra lashed out at it with his arm, it'd have been only ten feet from his body. Furthermore, if Tharra could recognize at least the general shape of the monster, enough to vaguely pick out its eyes or decipher the arms and tail for what they were, then the Malocchio would activate. It didn't require 20/20 vision, considering how it could work on animals with considerably worse eyesight than humans. Tharra would feel something slipping wetly into his mind, melding into his vitals like a warm leech. Were this to occur, then right before the moment of impact, as he struck at the Magna Pater with his wing, the lights would go out. One moment he'd be swinging at a terrible, blurry form shooting forwards him, and the next he'd see nothing but black. It would have temporarily traded sight with him if he could see it with any discerning definition. He could see through the Magna Pater's eyes, and it could see through his. By shutting its eyes, it had effectively blinded him. Tharra'd feel the impact of its firm, soggy body, followed by a sudden tremendous weight on his wing. Somehow, instead of smacking it away, it'd have immediately stuck to his limb. The monster had reared up to take the hit on its center mass before dead-weighting Tharra, trying to drag him onto his side. It wasn't that Tharra couldn't lift the monster, he probably could, but it was nearly half his equivalent body weight pulling down on an extended wing. He'd lack the leverage to easily recover his footing with such a lopsided increase in weight. At the same time he'd feel something cold oozing past his feathers, as if he had just sunk that part of his wing into tapioca.

Tharra's blow had been powerful, perhaps even as much as a car crash, but that did little against its rubbery, truck tire body. If a mere deer could quickly get up and run off into the woods after getting hit by a car, then what chance was there to stun the Magna Pater? There were no bones to break, and its insides were cushioned by hundreds of pounds of striated muscle so powerful that it could move freely even when subjected to the immense pressures at the bottom of Mariana's Trench, which could crush WWII submarines like tin cans. An eighteen wheeler could barrel over it and it'd still be relatively unscathed. Claws would probably be best for tearing into the monster, but after only a single second of combat Tharra would easily be able to tell that it'd be suicide to allow his head anywhere near the thing. Who the fuck would want to get this nasty-ass shit in their mouth!? There was no telling what weapons the slimy abomination was hiding.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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Tharr's attempt at shielding his eyes from the monster failed and his mind was subsequently invaded. The sensation was nearly unbearable and he resisted the urge to vocalize his pain. His innate warrior and animalistic instincts kept him focused on the actual threat and the source of all this. Invoking fear in the beast didn't quite garner the result it likely anticipated. With his vision blackened and being overwhelmed so abruptly sparked a fight or die response. As such, his adrenaline kicked into overdrive, bestowing reserve after reserve. This power had no seeable end and could stockpile endlessly, gifting him with increasingly more power at his disposal.

[Combat Reserve +8]

As the Magna Pater attempted to pull its prey down, the bird cat noted he either allow this thing to yank him down, or suffer potential wing damage if he resisted. He'd even assist with such and as just before he lost footing, his left talon and major paw pushed against the ground which sent him tumbling laterally with great force, landing with a loud crash. His full weight in addition to the force of his fall was applied directly on the slimy creature. While the damage would likely be moot, this was also an attempt to pin it down and hopefully halt whatever was happening with his wings currently. His left wing flared out to the side and its ends furled into a fist, seemingly ready to bludgeon it to death. Just one of his many limbs ready to teat this thing apart.



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Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Though the Magna Pater was agile enough to have skirted off the wing, it didn't. There were a multitude of reasons why, foremost among them being that it wanted to be as close as possible to its opponent with minimal risk. For at least a moment Tharra's body would be within even easier reach than before as he fell with his full weight upon the monster, and his impressive wingspan covered most of the creature's torso, leaving even fewer places to attack. Tharra clearly didn't want the Magna Pater to escape, but the knife was keen on either side. As he fell, that retching laughter far below the range of human hearing belted out from its gaping maw at full volume, hitching only for a moment on impact before resuming. A siren's sound from the pit, a ghoulish, quavering howl that could rattle tooth fillings and rupture blood vessels in the eyes and brain. No mere man could fully confirm this sound, save by the pain it inflicted, but with Tharra's powerful hearing it'd be much starker in definition, and all the worse for it. Even then, it could at best only be associated with pictures, images of creaking doors, of the mingling dying screams of animals and men in their last, agonized throes. Evil isn't like a shadow being cast, it isn't the negative of a photo or the reverse of a magnet. The shadow emanates from what blocks the sun, and what blocks the sun may be wholly solid, with its own variable substance. The substance of this noise was pure in its capering, hysterical malice. Tharra most likely was much too tough to simply die or pass out, and as for the deeper aspects of what he faced, he was well on the right path. A stern constitution and a simple will can take one leagues past that dark meridian where most sink when subjected to the petty tricks of an old horror. No matter how nasty something is, it can't properly scare a rock. Having a mind as steady and hard as a weather-beaten stone can undoubtedly enable one to push through most psychological attacks. Ascertaining this from how Tharra had fearlessly embraced combat with it, the Magna Pater's strategy was instead primarily meant to disorientate and confuse Tharra during that fall, so that he'd still be unable to detect how his foe had taken the impact.

The damage done to his eyes depended on how well Tharra's nictating membranes could absorb the sound. If they were only comparable to a second set of eyelids, then the pitch black would be replaced with vivid red sparks of pain and heat as his capillaries began bursting at the seams. The only reprieve would be that fractional judder as his body rammed the monster's against the ground, granting his singing ears a chance to receive his first and last hint at the demon's plan. Any other beast wouldn't have had a dog shit's chance in Hell's Kitchen to understand and react to that faint tenth-of-a-second whistle, that stream of hot mercury chopping through the air, but Tharra's reaction speed probably exceeded even the monster's. The Magna Pater had attempted to maneuver its slick tail between Tharra's forelegs without making unnecessary contact, so that at the right time it could whip the appendage upwards and plunge its narrowed tail fluke into Griffintaur's mouth with deft precision, seeking to fracture his beak and smash his teeth out. Even if it couldn't force its way into his mouth, the resulting smack could just as easily slop a heavy layer of mucous onto Tharra's face, drenching his eyes and mouthparts, flooding his nostrils, suffocating him with dense mucous that'd be impossible to remove unless Tharra was willing to tear his face off with it. To maintain accuracy, the Magna Pater had needed its senses back, hence having released the Malocchio which had been meant to keep Tharra from noticing where its lethal limbs were.

In short, as Tharra fell the Magna Pater released the Malocchio and started up with its ear and eye raping cries to disguise the location of its tail and the subsequent attack, which occurred right after the monster had been pinned onto its back. Still, that was only the tail. It still had two arms disengaged, held up over its head in anticipation of its opponent's next move.

Tharra had a few surprises in store for the Magna Pater, though. The first one was soon apparent. The monster's first (and typically accurate) instinct was to begin chomping into whatever meat was closest. As such would begin trying to maul the wing it was pinned under right after the tail lash resolved, yet if it were able to begin, it'd find that something was off. The feathers, though seemingly downy and tender, were unexpectedly resilient when put to the sword, so to speak. The Magna Pater could chew through military grade body armor, but even then this was no easy meal. It was like trying to dig into a layer of riveted Japanese plate armor, the overlapping feathers simulating pleated samurai faulds. Whether or not the Magna Pater could soon force the feathers to buckle depending on how well their steely consistency could put up with the monster's bite force, the effective weight of a heavy duty pickup truck compacted into the stropped points of its bared, black teeth. This bit of info would tell the monster that its opponent was more or less built like a tank, and its flaring papulae told it that its opponent was only getting stronger.

This was to cause no end of woe to the Magna Pater, or at least as close a simulation to woe as such a distant horror could feel. It meant that this opponent could not be toyed with or tortured, lest the Magna Pater soon be overwhelmed. It preferred large and by far to take its time, but it was being rushed, being forced to strain itself. No, woe was not as accurate a term as could be ascribed to how the monster felt. It was more like hate. It hated this cat-bird very much.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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The ire Tharr caused the monster was only beginning at this moment. It was indeed true his acute senses would be trampled by the cries of the Magna Pater under normal circumstances. This was not one of those times. The hybrid had the ability to filter out any unneeded or hindrance causing sense. Following the slimy creature's previous hammering at his hearing and sight, his feathered ears reduced nearly all sound and he was nearly deaf at this point. Additionally, since the last time his eyes were opened to a void of black nothingness, he decided to since close them entirely.

With sight and hearing nullified, Tharr suffered only mild disorientation. But as the piercing tail was sent for his maw, it seemed he was unprepared. But 2 of his remaining perceptors were more than enough to still follow its movements, with taste being the one he definitely refused to bring out. The foul odor of it was already seeped deep in his nares and would likely remain for weeks. His most crucial tool were the goldenrod whiskers adorning his plumaged face and the crest of feathers atop his head. These worked in conjunction with each other to detect surrounding vibrations.

The Magna Pater might be surprised to find its tail clenched between the paws of its foe. The hybrid had used his keen reflexes and duo of senses to discover and predict the angle of which the limb lashed forth. The grip in his digits was enough to dent metals and to ensure his hold, his claws unsheathed and attempted to break through its thick hide to lock them in place. Now that he had the thing in his clutches, it was time to stand back up. His wing was currently being munched on and his layered defenses would last only so long against such a powerful onslaught of teeth. He couldn't risk further damage by yanking the thing free by its tail.

As such, his unoccupied and outstretched wing was brought to the ground, where the ends straightened out and seemed to grasp the mostly firm foundation. From here, Tharraleos would attempt to pull himself up, his lion tail assisting with such by pushing against the ground on the opposing side. Without any interruptions, Tharr would be back on his feet, where he'd find a way to rid himself of this pest. Perhaps he would bring out his Reserves. He was normally one to prolong a battle out of sheer enjoyment, but this was an obvious exception. It needed to be dealt with, swiftly and permanently.



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Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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During that slight pause on impact, when the monster's cry jittered, Tharra was able to catch its tail. It was well that he used both paws. That tail was the monster's strongest appendage, the one it favored to throttle multi-ton animals with. It wasn't just fast, but fucking powerful. For Tharra, it'd feel like a vulcanized rubber club crashing into his armored mitts, or as if he were a Japanese salary man firing a twelve gauge for the first time. That wasn't to say it would hurt, not unless he had tried to catch the hardened tip where the lion's share of the force was concentrated. It'd just be surprising for hard that jarring pitch hit home. Feeling the might of Tharra's resistance, the monster threw out a few more stops. The flaps on its face flicked up, crimson sensory tissues flared, tens of thousands of budded stalks emerged from the heaving, hardening mass of its main body. It had already formulated a way to get past the feathers, but it was saving that for later, if a later there was.

As he tried to unsheathe his claws, Tharra would find that they had been already clogged with mucous, stuck in place and unable to fully extend to enable him to easily maintain a grip on the now slippery (only where Tharra had grabbed it) tail, which was seeking to writhe out of his grip with incredible strength. It was like trying to hang onto the end of a PCP-jacked Burmese python made of prison soap. Furthermore, if he tried to let go and shift his grip, Tharra would find that his paws were stuck together where they had met when he had grabbed the tail, like a set of irremovable Chinese handcuffs.

Tharra's height was ten feet. The Magna Pater was more or less right up against him, at the point where he had fallen onto his side to pin it. The tail had moved between Tharra's forelegs to reach his head. The typical length of a horse's legs is four feet, probably a fair approximation of Tharra's own considering how much larger he is than a mere lion. Give or take a foot or two, the Magna Pater's tail only had to use up a few meters or so to swing for that attack. It still had at least ten feet of crushing muscle left to spare. Even if he tried holding the tail at arm's length after catching it, unlikely due to how fiercely the limb resisted, it'd still be easily able to reach its next target. Tharra's ability to detect vibrations would almost certainly be severely crippled, if not rendered entirely ineffective, by the monster's cry. He could detect vibrations, but considering how the bass of a car could rattle the frame, and just how bolt-shaking it'd be if that sound were intense enough to literally kill a man... It'd be pure chaos for his last few senses.

Due to the clogging mucous and writhing, slippery muscle in his paws, and the insane epicenter of noise clinging to his wing, Tharra would have no method to discern the trick until it were too late. Were that the case, the realization that his neck felt as if it were caught in a vice wouldn't come soon enough. The very instant he caught the monster's tail, the leftover length (which Tharra didn't know about) would have looped up and thrown itself over his head like a muscular noose. This same noose had been used to twist the heads off of elephants before. The feathers wouldn't be of much help against this power, and even if they could help, the mucous which slipped through would be compacted by the tail's grip and form a crushing death seal around Tharra's neck. Even if he could react on touch to the tightening, he'd be unable to reach the tail in time to disengage it. It had the priority of having reached his neck first.
That being said, he'd not have his head twisted off. The pesky feathers ensured that much, at least. Still, if the monster trapped him, his oxygen and blood would be thoroughly cut off and after a few seconds, to the accompaniment of his vertebrae creaking under the force, he'd feel the blood pressure in his head spiking. The Magna Pater had seen many different results. Sometimes their bloodshot eyes popped out of their skull and hung suspended from the optic nerves. Other times the sensitive skin of the sinus cavity and cochlea tore, blood spurting from the nose and ears of the dying. Even Homer Simpson could benefit from a few lessons in strangling under the tutelage of the Magna Pater.


Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Griffintaur
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The overwhelming ferocity overtook Tharraleos before a coherent thought could even be conjured. How he was placed in such a disadvantageous predicament so swiftly was beyond comprehension. His senses were basically jammed and the only limbs to alleviate the intense asphyxiation were currently embedded within the tail of this foul creature. Even his own feline tail with its length of twenty feet was just barely out of range to provide assistance. Things weren't looking good for the mutated warrior, to say the least. Within mere moments his own resistance gradually waned more and more. Soon the Manga Pater would find the immense form in its grasp grow limp and unresponsive.

As his consciousness began fading, Tharr evaluated his situation. Was this really how things were to end for him? Helplessly strangled to death by a grotesque monster in this dammed swamp. It made some sense though, albeit irrational. Something was bound to best him in such a manner after five millennia. But as he began to accept his fate, a swift reminder snapped him from such. He was a shining example of what his kind were truly capable of. Entire nations had once buckled under his sheer might alone, and now here he was dying a pitiful death. This wouldn't do.

"I am Tharraleos!" he shouted within his mind.

"I am the proud vestige of the Aerasginero!"

"No mere, simple creature shall conquer my might!"

[Pride Reserve + 3]

Under his closed eyelids, the yellow of his irises momentarily flashed purple in color with each sentence spoke. This was the other variation of power that was able to be stored within him for further use. Battle and vanity were the things that empowered him in the most literal of senses and it was quite evident now was the time to capitalize on them. But as he went to unleash his Reserves, something snapped, literally. The unending and increasingly tightening grip of the Primal Nightmare broke through his defenses enough to sever the spinal cord. Instantly, the Griffintaur's body slumped onto the muddy ground, any remaining resistance being completely halted. Remnants of his subconscious prevailed, but would soon follow suit and the being known as Tharraleos would no longer exist in the living realm.

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