Drifting Pollen

Between Life & Death

Just as the clouds in a tempest constantly churn and deform, so does Procella's mind easily alter its state. A fickle spirit is she, and, watching Hisame simply stand in the fire, her rage now shifts to fascination. Why does this woman simply stay there, watching? Has she given up hope? What a poor, poor soul this is- Procella wipes her eyes with her free hand, fearing she might burst into tears over such a tragic tableau.

But what can she do, to this pitiful creature. Causing her pain will do little good- no doubt the woman was already experiencing far worse than anything Procella could inflict. What had happened, to render her thus? The death of a loved one, a husband, a child? Or perhaps she had been subjected to some terrible torture, horrible enough to break her in mind and body, that made her wish for death? Oh, pain, that sweetest and saddest of feelings.

Perhaps, had Procella been a different kind of being, she might have sought to console the poor Hisame, to revive her will to live. But a storm only knew how to ravage, terrify, and destroy. Thus, it is with sadness in her heart that Procella unleashes her lightning again, to take a life, end its suffering. This time, as with the first, it crackles through the air as a single bolt, focused and powerful.

But it is not aimed at Hisame. Procella is more creative than that, why should she burn that sweet body, when the fire will do her job for her. Instead, the bolt arcs around Hisame, instead striking the trunk of the tree behind her, burning and shattering the wood.

For a moment, the trunk smoulders and smokes. It's still intact- but the foundation has been weakened, and the wood has already been strained by the wind. And so, with a loud and slow creaking, it teeters, then topples, falling towards Hisame- who, trapped between the flames, now lacks the space to avoid being crushed by the heavy trunk.

Between Life & Death

Procella cackles with delight as she blasts Hisame straight off her feet, sending her flying into a tree several meters away. What a marvelous toy this is! She strides forward again, eager to play with it some more- but stops short, as the seemingly crippled body suddenly jerks with renewed movement, suddenly alive and hateful. The storm spirit scowls. Just when it was having so much fun... why won't she play along? Suddenly, Procella is no longer gleefully prancing about, but instead stands still, silent, glaring.

Then suddenly she stretches out one hand again, fingers splayed. "Burn, bitch" And lightning sparks once again from her bare forearm, only this time it's not aimed at Hisame. Instead, it forks, bright tendrils flying out on all sides of her, striking the ground around her. Procella did not spend much time gathering charge for this strike, and the divided bolts do not have nearly as much raw power as the one that had struck Hisame- but they are still very fast, and very very hot. And the ground around the fallen woman, covered with fallen leaves and creeping roots and other such debris of the forest, is extremely flammable.

Wherever the electricity strikes, the ground bursts into flame, which spreads rapidly to become a blazing bonfire centered more or less where Hisame fell.

This display, however, is not nearly enough to quell Procella's sudden rage. Even as the flame rises, she gathers charge around her hand, the right one this time, which still clutches a knife.

Between Life & Death

The knife flies past Hisame's head, tasting only empty air where it had sought soft flesh and sails onward, slamming into the thick bark of a tree a few meters away. There it sticks, vibrating gently.

Procella, meanwhile, is still circling, and it is clear from her expression that she is enjoying this immensely. "Good, good, you dance well." She whispers the words, speaking more to herself than to her opponent. For a few moments, she moves slowly, with tension, as if seeking out a perfect spot from which to strike. But suddenly, mid-step, she abandons this plan, and throws out her left hand towards Hisame. Her knife remains clutched in her right, and she is nowhere near enough to strike- she simply points her palm at her opponent, fingers splayed.

For an instant, this seems to be just another strange gesture, an unexplained symptom of the spirit's insanity. But in fact, she is moving with deadly purpose. As her arm is thrust, Procella pulls negative charges from the air around it, focusing them into her hand, building them up to an unnatural density, until there are simply too many to reasonably exist in the same space together.

And then, less than a second after she had made her movement, a cracking blue bolt of electricity erupts from her hand, blindingly bright and furiously hot, ionizing the air as it streaks towards Hisame with incredible speed. Opposite charges attract- and now the negative charges gathered by Procella are traversing the air with terrible energy, seeking out the positive charge that had been built up in Hisame's left arm.

Between Life & Death

Something makes Procella stop, something about the way Hisame carries herself. That tension, the grip of her hand, the look on her face, all so full of delicious killing intent. The storm spirit giggles, skipping lightly to one side, circling the other woman. This one's decided to be naughty!

Her body swings from side to side like a pendulum, as Procella cranes her head to look at Hisame from every angle. Where should she start cutting? Oh, how about... there!

Though utterly mad, Procella is not entirely stupid, and knows better than to step within reach of that nasty, ugly blade. Instead, one of her arms suddenly whips around, in what looks like a wild, uncontrolled swing, but is in fact carefully aimed. Her flying fingers loosen, and the knife takes to the air, its deadly point aimed for Hisame's neck. Even as she made this movement, Procella's other hand was reaching for another blade, for they had joined in the dance of battle now, and she could not stop until that woman lay bleeding before her.

The spirit's dark eyes turned their gaze to the woman's left arm, watching the charges within it, and twisted them. The negative charges were pushed out, away into the air and other parts of Hisame's body, leaving a net positive charge gradually accumulating within the limb. There would be no immediate effect on the arm- Procella was merely finding her target.

Battle City: The Tale Of The Tournament

I'm dying to see some action. And it doesn't have to be the violent kind, if you know what I mean. *Nudge, nudge, wink wink*.

@Doc Doctor

There'll be plenty of blood splattering around once ShidenBlades gets back tomorrow evening. Your fight should follow soon afterwards... I won't toy with him for too long :P

As for the other kind... a man should have to prove himself worthy, no?

(Alternatively, if you're getting bored, you could have Gonad challenge the others to an arm-wrestling contest or something)

Battle City: The Tale Of The Tournament

Oh my god.

Gonad's a shipper :D

Between Life & Death

Oh, what a pretty little thing Hisame is! The clothes, so bright and elegant! The hair, so long and smooth! The body, so slender and fragile, yet so powerful! She's like a beautiful glass sculpture, just waiting to be smashed.

Or so she seems in the eyes of Procella, who cocks her head far to one side as the other woman says her piece. "Why, I'm surprised you ask!" Then she bows, quite fast, her hair being tossed back and forth by the suddenness of the motion. "I'm the rain that's come across your way, O drifter. Can you feel it in the air?" She raises her arms, swinging them up on either side of her, gesturing to the churning sky. Theatrical, excited. "Your drifting has carried you here, where the clouds cast their shadow- my domain!" The last part is shouted, wild and furious.

Then she suddenly stops, her arms slowly falling to her sides once again, as she looks upon her prey with a widening smile. "You're all mine now, see? And I'm going to take away that pretty face. A storm has to ruin things, after all, and you are just too perfect." She advances again now, stepping quickly. A pale hand slips inside the bosom of her dress, and emerges clutching a silvery knife, razor sharp. "Behave yourself, and perhaps I shall let you go on your way with a few scars."

The air is almost tingling now, with that strange tension one sometimes feels before a heavy rain. The clouds overhead are growing thicker, darker, more menacing with each passing second, gathering over the advancing spirit.

Battle City: The Tale Of The Tournament

Nobody even seemed to be paying much notice to Imogen, and her words fell on deaf ears. Honestly, she wasn't surprised. Out of all the people in this room, she probably looked the least threatening. She didn't mind being looked down upon, it made for a rather nice change, but it was a shame that she wasn't able to speak with them. Perhaps some among the gathered fighters had led lives similar to hers, and would have insights to share, stories, wisdom.

She considered approaching them. But how does one even approach a warrior from another world entirely? For all she knew, they might speak some strange language, or engage in cannibalism as a casual daily activity. Some of those present certainly looked capable of it. So instead, she shied around the edges of the lobby, avoiding the food, feeling generally a little awkward. Maybe she'd be able to talk to them once the fights started, and discuss or comment on the unfolding battles. Whoever these people were, she was certain they'd have some sort of opinions to share on the art of combat.

But, as it soon turned out, she would be one of the first to fight. She looked around, uncertain as to exactly which one of these strangers was Nicoli. Given the sound of the name, probably one of the smaller ones.

Either way, she showed no hesitation in stepping towards the portals, walking swiftly and confidently right up to the first. The cloth bundle containing her blades floated along beside her, matching her pace. But as she walked, she reached out to it, tugging on a small concealed thread on one side, and it began to unravel, revealing the weapons inside. Gleaming steel slid from ornate sheaths, as the cluster of blades unfolded into an airborne formation, arraying themselves all around her. The cloth and the sheaths she'd leave behind, stepping up to the edge of the portal surrounded only by her swords.

Imogen hesitated before entering, however, her confidence wavering a little, and glanced towards Nicoli (should he have advanced at this point). With one small hand, she brushed her red hair aside as she tried to meet his eyes. "I... I should ask, what fortune brings you here? So far down the road of pain?" There was genuine curiosity in her voice, and a hint of sadness.

Battle City: The Tale Of The Tournament

They like apples so much because they have that delicious crunch that sounds so much like a skull being broken between your teeth...

Anyways, looks like I'm up already! Should be an interesting fight... also, whoever's up against the lich? Take him out for me. I don't want to have to deal with all that armor :P

EDIT: oh, and ShidenBlades got one detail wrong in his post... Imogen doesn't have any swords strapped to her. I specified in my post that they were tied up in a huge bundle that was floating behind her. Not that the mistake is any fault of yours... I somehow managed to write that detail without even mentioning the word 'sword,' and so it's understandable that you missed it.

Between Life & Death

Oh, but she is not alone.

No-one is ever alone. There are the creeping bugs, skittering back and forth between the cracks in wood and earth, in numbers beyond measure. There are the trees, ancient and powerful and alive. And there are the darker things, the spirits and ghouls that stalk the corners of this reality, hunting whatever unfortunate prey catches their eye.

This damsel is in good company among the first two. Bugs and trees are passive creatures, going about their lives without interfering to a large degree in the affairs of others. But spirits have no such manners. Unlike the rest of nature, they exist purely to prey on living things, to leech away the souls and belief of their victims to further fuel their own power. Hardly pleasant company at all- and the one that now stalked these woods was perhaps the worst among them.

The first sign of trouble comes with a quiet hum, carried on the twisting breeze. The voice of a woman, sounding out a slow, wordless tune, a little lullaby she sings to herself in her moments of boredom.

Then footsteps, and the rustling of fallen leaves as someone steps through them, slowly and deliberately. The wind should be dying down by now, but instead it seems to pick up, rushing faster and faster as it sends small leaves fluttering about every which way. A herald, for that which is coming.

She appears suddenly, stepping out of a shadow into full view of Hisame, as if she'd been standing there the entire time. A woman, dark-haired and elegant, in a dark dress that shifts and twists like smoke. Her eyes are closed, but only for a moment.

When they open, they're looking straight at the other young woman, leaned against a tree. These are dark eyes, predatory ones. The newcomer's expression, coldly indifferent but a moment ago, shifts into a slight smile, that's somehow even colder.

"Well oh well, what have we stumbled upon?" Procella's voice is smooth, melodic, almost musical in its tone. "A poor lost lady, far away from home?" The leaves crunch under her bare feet as she steps forwards, only a few meters away from Hisame.