Yankee
Altered Tundra
Alisdragon911
stone
VitaVitaAR
Animal
LanaStorm
Ohm
Haha
ShovelFully consumed by corruption, mad beyond redemption, the ravings of the mad prophet made it clear that Aiv’s words would not bring any sort of reverence or tranquility after all, while his companions appeared unable to comprehend the reason behind words. The halberd-wielder, it appeared, was already immersed in the shirking of her duty as one of Nera’s chosen, more inclined to run from the first challenge than to face it, while the woman with the whip-sword seemed to be so intent on falling into reckless eagerness once more, forgetting her own advice and swinging wide in a passageway that was much too narrow.
Naturally, the snakeblade lodged itself into the wall, and, valorously, the yet nameless one went out of his way to free it before one of Nera’s fallen could grasp it, and, expectedly, the red-haired lady still maintained her confident façade, even as the wolf-bolt of another saved her once again, this time from the onslaught of the repurposed halves of the monster she had previously cleaved.
Made him smile, almost.
“Try thrusts, Isabelle,” Aiv said, hefting the towering mass onto his right shoulder, “Harder to hit a wall that way…but you’ll probably end up doing that regardless.”
That was all jest he could afford now, as the cacophony of the ghouls’ approach reached its climax, the metal screeches sounding even as clouds of dust kicked up from that destructive bolt, the promise of ascension from the lantern-bearers nullifying the fear of death. Ah, yes, this was the situation he lived for. These were the monstrosities he fought for. This was his cradle, his deathbed. The fear and excitement, the anticipation and the dread, everything mixing together! His flesh-strength expanded, his mind’s eye opened, his ephemeral past sank while his hyperrealistic present grew before him.
Ah, this was so nostalgic.
Ah, this was so novel.
riptearsmashbreakpulvernizebisectdestroyminceannihilatetwistpopcarvecrushskewerrampierce
“▃▃▅▅▃▃——!”
An unnatural war cry poured out as naturally as breathing. The anchor-wielder’s advice was sound. No matter where they poured out from, the ghouls only had one entrance point, one that Aiv positioned himself at. As they emerged from the dust clouds, weaponized limbs swinging wildly, thoughtlessly, fearlessly, the white-robed man grit his teeth and swung in response, horizontally, aiming to smash all the latest arrivals in a single strike while they were still grouped up from emerging out of the entranceway.
If it carnage was the path they were to walk, then he would embrace it fully.
Naturally, the snakeblade lodged itself into the wall, and, valorously, the yet nameless one went out of his way to free it before one of Nera’s fallen could grasp it, and, expectedly, the red-haired lady still maintained her confident façade, even as the wolf-bolt of another saved her once again, this time from the onslaught of the repurposed halves of the monster she had previously cleaved.
Made him smile, almost.
“Try thrusts, Isabelle,” Aiv said, hefting the towering mass onto his right shoulder, “Harder to hit a wall that way…but you’ll probably end up doing that regardless.”
That was all jest he could afford now, as the cacophony of the ghouls’ approach reached its climax, the metal screeches sounding even as clouds of dust kicked up from that destructive bolt, the promise of ascension from the lantern-bearers nullifying the fear of death. Ah, yes, this was the situation he lived for. These were the monstrosities he fought for. This was his cradle, his deathbed. The fear and excitement, the anticipation and the dread, everything mixing together! His flesh-strength expanded, his mind’s eye opened, his ephemeral past sank while his hyperrealistic present grew before him.
Ah, this was so nostalgic.
Ah, this was so novel.
riptearsmashbreakpulvernizebisectdestroyminceannihilatetwistpopcarvecrushskewerrampierce
“▃▃▅▅▃▃——!”
An unnatural war cry poured out as naturally as breathing. The anchor-wielder’s advice was sound. No matter where they poured out from, the ghouls only had one entrance point, one that Aiv positioned himself at. As they emerged from the dust clouds, weaponized limbs swinging wildly, thoughtlessly, fearlessly, the white-robed man grit his teeth and swung in response, horizontally, aiming to smash all the latest arrivals in a single strike while they were still grouped up from emerging out of the entranceway.
If it carnage was the path they were to walk, then he would embrace it fully.