Tasuke Member
Tifaholic
- Last Seen: 4 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: Tasuke
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 183 (0.04 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Tasuke 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
IAmTheIsland
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
The hammered nail of lightning is but a precursor; mark of more meant to maim the maiden whose melted flesh sizzles in the rain to the stench of burnt hair. Trees then topple with splintering snaps and their rustling branches entwine together to weave a crushing trap should nothing intervene. However even the perpetual percussion of the storm can't veil the overwhelming cry of cracking wood during downfall. It's those sounds which warn Hisame of impending intrusion and rouse renewal of their aegis.
The falling timber collides with a thud but a slight lean suggests they've hit something above ground; following is the fervent flicker of freshly flung bolts which clap against the barrier futilely. From there Hisame's skin ripples in restoration and charred tresses become silken once more. Although without lasting damage she remains confined to position; a caged lioness of snarling teeth growling in displeasure.
Happily striking is the maddened maiden whom prays persistence will prove profitable and what may be mistaken for a moan of agony escapes the thicket of branches. Its volume is low at first but immediately increases to rival the boom of thunder rumbling in tandem. Like speakers turned to the max it makes the earth to shiver and flesh to feel the sound emanating from Hisame's throat.
Suddenly the pitch reverses into an awful screech so piercingly loud that any eardrums nearby burst and bleed; mind-numbing pain attacks the brain and prevents any focus to form. Only the solitaire shrill seems to exist for the forty seconds Hisame takes to formulate her riposte. The nearly eternal minute of misery ends with a release of telekinetic force in all directions. Like a nuclear shockwave it blasts everything to bits as wet ground peels and trees blow apart to send splinters spinning; five hundred feet of land is leveled in a blink.
In the aftermath she stands with quickened breath and a mask of weariness upon her face. She exhales foggy puffs from her open mouth until a deep inhale catches breath. From there she may behold the destruction of the rain-soaked woods whose trees are strewn in muddy chunks of trunks, branches and leaves. If that pesky woman had survived and remained conscious they'd see a level playground had been formed. Now only their laughable lightning fantasizes of felling this durable dame.
The falling timber collides with a thud but a slight lean suggests they've hit something above ground; following is the fervent flicker of freshly flung bolts which clap against the barrier futilely. From there Hisame's skin ripples in restoration and charred tresses become silken once more. Although without lasting damage she remains confined to position; a caged lioness of snarling teeth growling in displeasure.
Happily striking is the maddened maiden whom prays persistence will prove profitable and what may be mistaken for a moan of agony escapes the thicket of branches. Its volume is low at first but immediately increases to rival the boom of thunder rumbling in tandem. Like speakers turned to the max it makes the earth to shiver and flesh to feel the sound emanating from Hisame's throat.
Suddenly the pitch reverses into an awful screech so piercingly loud that any eardrums nearby burst and bleed; mind-numbing pain attacks the brain and prevents any focus to form. Only the solitaire shrill seems to exist for the forty seconds Hisame takes to formulate her riposte. The nearly eternal minute of misery ends with a release of telekinetic force in all directions. Like a nuclear shockwave it blasts everything to bits as wet ground peels and trees blow apart to send splinters spinning; five hundred feet of land is leveled in a blink.
In the aftermath she stands with quickened breath and a mask of weariness upon her face. She exhales foggy puffs from her open mouth until a deep inhale catches breath. From there she may behold the destruction of the rain-soaked woods whose trees are strewn in muddy chunks of trunks, branches and leaves. If that pesky woman had survived and remained conscious they'd see a level playground had been formed. Now only their laughable lightning fantasizes of felling this durable dame.
Like a child which waits for Christmas morning Hisame bears the time 'til a fool makes their move; would she take another crack with a new laughable lance of lightning or step up her game to something more vicious? Contrary to the woman's lack of wisdom the bloody beauty can only presume the latter and such a force may only descend from above. It's only when those warning signs -- a tingling sensation across the flesh and statically charged locks of lifting hair -- that it's understood for what they've become a mark.
She smirks and lets her guard descend; the leaves flit and flutter around her while the sky strikes her down in a white flash and terrific crash of thunder. Like a hammer it claps atop her head and sets fire to the hair; the jolt of myriad volts and heat courses through her body and melts flesh. The stench of charred meat and ozone fills the moist air as the blinding shine fades to reveal Hisame still standing confidently; her bald and singed crown already mending skin from the top down and sewing new strings of silken hair made wet in the rain. Lips peel into a devilish grin and she seizes her moment of counterattack amid reformation of protection.
Her left arm lifts the Fateful Death vertically and its gleam disperses with a glassy jingle. From it is exhaled a putrid inky mist which spreads like a flame feasting on open air; in moments the mass has expanded a hundred feet in all directions and its touch brings doom to the living. Grass becomes brown and the trees shrivel into fragile twigs before crumbling from their own weight; like wheat mowed down the forest falls around her and should the gaseous cloud contact the missing maiden a slew of awful effects will befall her: intense burning of the eyes to give way to blindness; a locked throat which refuses to breathe in more but is already infected with cysts; flesh rotting like meat spoiled in the summer sun.
Let them run; let them hide... the darkness comes and no tree will remain sanctuary.
She smirks and lets her guard descend; the leaves flit and flutter around her while the sky strikes her down in a white flash and terrific crash of thunder. Like a hammer it claps atop her head and sets fire to the hair; the jolt of myriad volts and heat courses through her body and melts flesh. The stench of charred meat and ozone fills the moist air as the blinding shine fades to reveal Hisame still standing confidently; her bald and singed crown already mending skin from the top down and sewing new strings of silken hair made wet in the rain. Lips peel into a devilish grin and she seizes her moment of counterattack amid reformation of protection.
Her left arm lifts the Fateful Death vertically and its gleam disperses with a glassy jingle. From it is exhaled a putrid inky mist which spreads like a flame feasting on open air; in moments the mass has expanded a hundred feet in all directions and its touch brings doom to the living. Grass becomes brown and the trees shrivel into fragile twigs before crumbling from their own weight; like wheat mowed down the forest falls around her and should the gaseous cloud contact the missing maiden a slew of awful effects will befall her: intense burning of the eyes to give way to blindness; a locked throat which refuses to breathe in more but is already infected with cysts; flesh rotting like meat spoiled in the summer sun.
Let them run; let them hide... the darkness comes and no tree will remain sanctuary.
@Skallagrim
I'll cut down the line.
@ImportantNobody
I'm still trying to make an opening post that doesn't completely suck.
I'll cut down the line.
@ImportantNobody
I'm still trying to make an opening post that doesn't completely suck.
You can't! You're like the Undertaker and the Wrestlemania Streak! It must be challenged!
Undertaker was 21-1 at Wrestlemania.
Don't you want that kind of legendary-ness?
Undertaker was 21-1 at Wrestlemania.
Don't you want that kind of legendary-ness?
The Champ literally did the You Can't See Me to me.
I take that as a compliment, however strange that may be.
Rhyming though. >.>
I take that as a compliment, however strange that may be.
Rhyming though. >.>
<Snipped quote by Doc Doctor>
Could do unranked if you want, depends if you have a character with a similar theme to one of mine though. If I'm gunna do unranked, I like it to make at least some sense story wise, so it can be useful at a later date.
This x2.
I think I also want an exhibition against John Cena.
Long crepitation rolls into a rumble and drowns the rain; attention-seeking droplets fall harder and louder upon Hisame's waterproof windshield. She's utterly lost in the lightshow without care for the trivialities concerning a fool throwing electric darts at a board blindly. So long as they maintain that level of futility and refrain from actual disturbance of enjoyment, let them continue their child's play to their heart's content.
...until the view is obscured by leaves bombarding like a horde of angry bats.
She blinks in wonderment and her grin fades into a disgusted scowl; the bitterest of tastes pools in her mouth and the fire of wrath sparks to life in her belly. Fin by fin the storm is blotted out until she's covered like papier-mâché and the lightning lass's idiocy is proven to know no limits. Hisame, now completely concealed from outside sight, is free to act in secrecy. So her face sinks to look levelly forward as she layers her thoughts; then her right hand rises to pull back the hair from the slender curve of her neck and shoulders before letting the limb fall.
A pause precedes an alignment of her sword before it pierces the trapezes through. There's not so much as a wince while the blade is pulled upward in a wet, freeing slice and hissing crimson spray; like paint it rolls down her arm, torso and leg in tandem with the katana's rest at Hisame's side. The once rusty coat now swirls with a vivid, sparkling claret and drizzles blood upon the soaked earth below. In time her self-infliction closes and the wait to loose her scorching fury must be endured; as the adage goes: playtime is over.
...until the view is obscured by leaves bombarding like a horde of angry bats.
She blinks in wonderment and her grin fades into a disgusted scowl; the bitterest of tastes pools in her mouth and the fire of wrath sparks to life in her belly. Fin by fin the storm is blotted out until she's covered like papier-mâché and the lightning lass's idiocy is proven to know no limits. Hisame, now completely concealed from outside sight, is free to act in secrecy. So her face sinks to look levelly forward as she layers her thoughts; then her right hand rises to pull back the hair from the slender curve of her neck and shoulders before letting the limb fall.
A pause precedes an alignment of her sword before it pierces the trapezes through. There's not so much as a wince while the blade is pulled upward in a wet, freeing slice and hissing crimson spray; like paint it rolls down her arm, torso and leg in tandem with the katana's rest at Hisame's side. The once rusty coat now swirls with a vivid, sparkling claret and drizzles blood upon the soaked earth below. In time her self-infliction closes and the wait to loose her scorching fury must be endured; as the adage goes: playtime is over.
© 2007-2026