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4 days ago
Current "Iron rusts from disuse; water loses its purity from stagnation... even so does inaction sap the vigor of the mind." -Da Vinci
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4 days ago
"Filming a karate video is exactly like being seven-years old except for one difference: I've seen seven-year-olds win fights." —Seanbaby
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Call me Doc! I'm open to just about every form of roleplay at any time, so if you want to have some fun just toss a P.M my way.

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5 Wins / 0 Losses / 1 Draws
1550 points

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Once Merca and Zeb set up that new combat guild, there'll be plenty of tutors for you. Teachers will be assigned.
Yo man. This is over with, but you oughta hop into the Combat Workshop I inv'd you to.

Facere was the first to have ever tried to choke the Magna Pater, and it might have come as a surprise to him that the irony was not lost on his opponent. The fact that Facere was trying to turn the tables on it was interesting. But, Facere wasn't on par with the monster in this regard. The Magna Pater was a veritable connoisseur of strangling, reigning high on the echelon of dark gods that enjoyed watching the animation of life leave the features of those they could catch. It enjoyed taking its time, but there was no need for such formalities when it could still consume this one's soul. It ached to know his fear more intimately.

The monster's throat was seized by Facere, but like how his sweat had gifted him another second or two of life, so had his intended prey's glossy slime saved its hide. His initial grip would be tenuous to start, as a thin second layer of slick, soapy mucous would have immediately risen beneath the gluey surface of the first layer, delaying Facere's grip for a mortal fraction of a second.

With merciless deliberation, the Magna Pater reached up with one rugged hand to slip its claws beneath and around Facere's thumb, and with a gruesome *CRIK*, snap it backwards with all the force it could summon using the full strength of its arm, thus seeking to foil his attempt at successfully maintaining a good hold on its throat. It'd have used whichever arm Facere's thumb was nearest to. Erstwhile the monster's tail continued tightening, tightening, tightening, to the point where Facere might feel the small bones in his hand grinding against each other as his neck was compressed and his circulation cut completely off. He didn't need oxygen in his blood, but it would probably be safe to assume that Facere did need blood itself. His brain wouldn't be getting any. A mortal animal can only retain consciousness for around seven seconds when placed in a blood choke, though a significant loss of muscular control would occur after five seconds.
That'd not be the monster's full intent, either. Facere was as hard as rock to be sure, but the Magna Pater could crush rock to dust with its phantasmagorically strong tail. Before he'd pass out, his hand would be due to fracture and his vertebrae separate.

His last hope might be to try and pick the monster up and dash it against something hard, or perhaps to try and stomp the evil bastard, but it'd for sure not make it easy for him. It was only a few seconds away from sextupling its durability. After those few seconds it'd be slower, sure, but by then Facere may be considerably weakened.
If he tried to imitate the monster and peel its tail off his neck, he'd find that the last foot culminating in the tail tip had more or less solidified into a slimy super-rubber to perfectly resist any attempts at prying it off. Facere probably wouldn't have much time for that, though.
Whilst he was bent over, thumb and neck captured, the monster would ferociously yank on both body parts, seeking to wrench Facere right off his feet and onto the ground, whereupon it could be presumed that he'd not be likely to rise from again, considering both his hands were trapped and this particular demon god of black dreams still had a very large, very powerful mouth with which it may be inclined to use for the purpose of biting heads off.
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