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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:08:54 GMT
OBITO: - | 《 nakazat’ 》
Without love or admiration for anything did he come, the h0rn blower of the v0id had stepped amongst the realm outside of his governed one. Aggressive whispers intertwined with psithurism as the trees seemed to murmur, whispering somethings of adamant love and zealous appraisal. It wasn't just this celestial body that quivered at the feeling of his molesting touch that washed over everything in nethereal waves for miles. Everything began to turn an alabaster whether it was astral, ethereal, or physical around himself as he began to assume control over what was rightfully his through metaphysical indomitable rapacity and covetousness. It perverted the heart of the cosmos as he traversed the physical realm, he began bleeding this existence into the stream and force of magic ( magyk too ). Nothing would go without subjecting itself to his metaphysical might, even the very weight of his gluttonous existence ( not spirit ) as he achieved a state of Anhedonia long ago. It rested in his heart, in his mind, in his third eye, in his magyk, his energies, the void, and his weapons.
He walked amongst the growing ivory plant life and Fae life beneath the earth, heels of his dress shoes imprinting his might to burrow into the earth. So much so he began to take what he could there like he did the serein. The presence of fat droplets didn't bother him as he walked on, jacket flowing within the zephyrs that resonated with power as the constant sound danced with each wave of metaphysical and conceptual might raced. Hardly hidden beneath Alabaster hair was aforementioned marking that kept its scrying eye on everything. His skin was peach colored, his necklace of naught looked like an assortment of ivory beads, his button up shirt was white. His formal attire screamed of the red mages affinities, as everything danced with decadent dissonance. No other life, no other being, that wasn't subjected to his will existed on this planet. Even as he clawed at the space of this realm, placing the shredding existences that'd destroy as he commanded. That'd what he was here, to force his magical law of, what he touched, saw, or felt belonged purely to him.
He was delicate beauty, oddly enough, everything about him screamed perfected beauty. A sinful irony was found in that as he felt the tides of bellum were already washing over him, that's why he was here. To fight, to attack, to let his void consume everyone and everything it could whilst the grimoire of naught spread its knowledge through him by marking him physically and non physically, using the rain as a conduit for what he wanted. What he needed, what he craved. Destruction. Corruption. Death. Life. Reanimation. Animation. V0id. Hatryd. Spyte. Magic. Was all his. Even as his trumpet(s) played their sound, alluding to the nefarious its creator and it had, this wasn't it. This was just the beginning before every thing knew the darkness that was the Mythic.
If you busy plotting on what I got
Kick in your door, that's SWAT you thot.
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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:09:29 GMT
ASHER: Midday's valiance adorned the world of Kyronth, along with festive prosodies and drunkards reveling in the new age — Although she could swim well in these waters, it just wasn't her prerogative, especially not during a time as tenuously dire as this. “Good day, Ser Gervasse!”
Rizentarth mused from its cage, delivering an array of menacing derisions pertaining to her status, and all she could do was laugh — Her visage, obscured by her flaxen helm, held nothing short of an unabashed sneer.
“Yeah, yeah. Let's just get to Evindal before the King's patience runs dry.” A subtle resonance between tarmac and armor followed them all the way until the brilliance that was the castle made itself evident, little by little. Pending the moat's meager caliginosity, the castle of Evindal was nothing short of an empirical marvel. It held towers for miles, dungeons for years, and an overall colossal disposition. She knew of its ins and outs, how not to be discovered, seeing as she'd studied them for thousands of years — Just now, she was to put one to use.
“What? He's having a meeting with the other Knights. I wouldn't disrupt that for anything in the world.”
She responds to Rizentarth's worry-filled prose with reason, and she was right — The topic of discussion was not to be interrupted, under any circumstances.
___
Slender carpals tilted and balanced her massive broadsword with ease, as if weight posed no salient issue. They droned, and droned, and while the others weren't outwardly engaged, she was, in every sense of the word. It was as if she held every single one of their attention spans amalgamated, and honestly? She preferred it that way — If they discovered her, she'd likely give them every single conceivable curse and a kick to the cranium as a bargain for their silence. For now, she tarnished refurbished wood with an immaculate disposition of armor, as her face was pressed against the double doors.
“... What shall we do now, Endryth?”
“Send my daughter. She'll take care of it.” His gruff articulation was what sent them into this silent, yet deadly assortment of exchanging looks and whispering. The Round Table, as if on the brink of uproar, now held this unspoken furor to it — At any moment now, the entire room would burst into flames, or so they thought. Languid extremities entangled themselves amidst hardwood surface, as whispers spoken by sages purge the room of any doubt — They were terrified of the 6th Knight of Ordvr, as she made her appearance into the rather large room.
“Oh, good! This means I can bring Rizentarth? We haven't actually done battle in ages...” Both her countenance and her voice held a bubbly prose, as she placed the blade against her shoulder, reporting as any good knight would. "Gervasse...”
His face, stained with disapproval, contorted slightly as she brought forth her position, coldblooded irises meeting nonchalance. Finally, the silence was torn asunder by the king's rather sudden, but expected bursting into tears and viciously hugging her — Despite being the greatest warrior in their world, he sure was a bitch.
“Come home safely, my dearest daughter Alexi!!! Of course, you know I'm just so proud of what you've become, but I really don't want you to bite off more than you can chew, y'know??!!!” Icy tendrils were stained with his worry's embodiment, as his affectionate bearing soon wore off. She'd be alright. After all, she was her father's daughter.
“I'm going to be fine, dad, really. You don't have to - ” She'd spoken too late. The Serene Sheild rested within his grasp. Of course, she'd never accepted gifts from her father of this magnitude anymore. She only wanted what she wanted, and this wasn't it, but her fear of him breaking down into a fit of warm tears and pleas merited her to accept it on the first go. The remaining Knights of Ordvr, although wishing her well on her quests, would've killed for that position. The gold. The honour. The GOLD. Of course, serving as both the strongest Knight of Ordvr and the King's only daughter, she held both of those, and couldn't care less about the material.
“Safe travels, Gervasse!”
A languid wave preceded her departure, and with that? Her leave is imminent.
A bolt of lightning coruscates the forest of tribal engravings and leaves of yesteryear, pushing inverted limbs down on what was, and what will be. Its compatriot is lost to the prosody of forlorn detriment, but her own defends. The grounds are set, and trees lit ablaze. In the small clearing that was this newfound battleground, the sheer presence of Rizentarth would definitely transcend the physical aspect of existence. Her ancestors writhe in the wake of such will, such immense power — Yet, they were innumerable and unpalatable themselves. As the tip leaves a trail in the thick dreck, the testament to Rizentarth's prowess lies within the fact that, like lighting a large sheet of paper on fire, it scourged what'd predated their arrival.
Serenity imposed a vindictive aegis, as its counterpart presents the complete opposite — A means of destruction.
“So, you're the guy, huh? Cool. Don't let this end too fast, is all I ask.” With those words, she'd commenced the battle. With those words, she'd embraced fate.
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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:10:07 GMT
OBITO: - | 《 nakazat’ 》
Love was something that could bring forth an insurmountable jubilation when found or everlasting grief whenever it was departed from. Everyone associated with this, loved something at one point or another but could never imagine until that thing ceased to be there for them. For you see, it was that loss of that specific feeling, the moment of euphoria that ran rampant throughout your body, spirit, and mind so when it was lost it was replaced with boundless vexation with a side of smothering desolation that lasted a lifetime. It was disgustingly ironic that very thing everyone promoted as a healing emotion could shatter the fabrics of one’s being. Especially for the Rennaneil who simply looked among the elven children who hid amongst the greenery he tainted. He could hear their perennial laughter resonate within his hand; he could detect their dainty hands grabbing at him, tugging, pulling, and then screaming. Eyes locked with the childish pools of opal that stared at him with fear only for his heart to sink within his chest as a wave of nethereal might consumed them.”We possess no time for weakness, boy. None at all.”Was it genuinely a weakness to treasure something as much as he did, or did it provide him strength, that was the question of the century with the answer yet to be revealed to Spyte himself.
Was it merely his own voraciousness that inevitably introduced him to the challenging point of time he was within presently or was it purely something else entirely? Unanswered questions surfaced and with them he seethed with the pent-up rage and overwhelming anger of eons surfacing. Only to be used indiscriminately by his third eye to be reused as tangible energy promptly as it was polymerized with the active existences that mutilated the cultivated land abroad for Phom's own purpose. Yet, he hadn’t seen her, and she hadn’t come to speak candidly on his unutterable woes or scold him for valiantly attempting to bring her back from the dead. Ghosts, everyone typically had one but not everyone was as good at tactfully ignoring them. He could precisely see his own everywhere he looked, he could taste them, feel them and hear them. At Least it was precisely to the point he couldn’t tell if they were genuinely manifestations of his families or manifestations of his practical morals. Or if they were naturally getting in the judicious way of the vivid existences strategically placed to watch over him.
All he could do now, was willingly let out the exultant yell that sounded warped and full of eternal life. Once he properly finished, the young lady had landed and his glittering eyes instantly turned towards her. A countless multitude of brilliant colors flashed within those opal pools, filling with uncanny hope as he didn’t see nor hear correctly what she was saying ardently to him. How could he when she shrouded the others appearance so he didn’t even see her for whom she really was? ”T-Tamriel...my love…” His influential voice was soft as straightened himself, inching towards her until for him her image warped revealing the feminine existence under the armor. His rage boiled over, an everlasting essence that forced the wave and plasma like white to dance with lumescent crimson that slipped into its core, as well as slipped into everything held within his metaphysical grasps. Rain, earth, air, energies, everything was subjugated and yet he didn't outright attack her, if anything at that moment he looked confused as he looked onto the female.
That wasn’t just it, his lithe frame began to megamorph becoming slightly more muscular, eyes bulging slightly as his sclera turned a crimson around the opal centers that stared at him. Ebon pulsing veins danced within that crimson like streaks of lightning through the light of a blood moon.”Y-You’re not her…” The amount of sorrow that danced within his tone showed conveyed the issue but also left him with more questions, was he really going mad? Through those tained droplets were the clouds turned a vibrant gold, aether being caressed and abused until it was forged into various weapons, solidified semblance to real elements but only...celestial in composition. Through the waves was the the spell for transmutation was fitted to be fitted, carrying with the spell the nefarious effects of his very own decree which forced itself onto the laws of the most mundane, not the one of his wrealm. The ground would have rapidly turned into an unearthly sludge like matter that also acted and looked like sand, contact would have begun pulling everything within 6 feet distance above the radius downwards minus the where he was standing which turned golden. As a testament of his strengths, the earth erected a smooth golden hilt, silver guard/pommel, and a completely reddened blade composed of celestial elements, energy, and bio-nethereal existences. Call it a spontaneous conjuration via the faery that attempt at hiding from him, creating a new weapon with an effect he didn’t know until his hand clutched it, feeling its power roar and boom within his head.”I see. . . you don’t know the beauty of what I am doing, hm.”
And for a faint moment, the little woman would see the faintest shimmering of multicolored wings that showed what he once was and still is.
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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:10:41 GMT
ASHER: Timeless, frame-less, the reaper indulges her quarry. Pinned against her aegis, one's own influence was for naught— Was it truly worth the struggle, here and now? The question would be one of two answers to be revealed in the middle of progress creeping amongst reality's substratum. As she prepensed her maladies, Rizentarth's exclamations were proven to be of futility. A rather lustrous pinion forks from a seemingly unsuspecting spine, as the devil's arms peered from betwixt saccharine veneers.
Wind, pressure, and associating factors found themselves all the more inert against her— Cursors, all of which held the same sable apex, hesitated for none, but then again, none hesitate for them.
One. The wind becomes an agent of her bidding yet again, a resonant boom bringing what was rather close to coincide with what will be with a precision gawk-worthy. Cacophony was her serenity. Chaos was her peace. Just what else was she hiding?
Two. Encased within blazes of malignancy, the second rushed to greet her latest victim's plexus, however presumptuous and ignorant that may sound. Daunting velocity roared against nature's mandated pretenses, as sweetness and serenity resounds, a field of naught imprisoning, and preserving, her bodice with a supple, silvery hue. Any attempts at overriding her transgressions would result in a punishment more absolute than any faux insanity, and who'd really want that?
Three. The final crux shoots forth, ensnaring reality within a game of seek, for there was nowhere this creature could go that her resolve couldn't. His cranium was an object of her greed, so that's where it'd be. Meanwhile, as the storm raged on with no real ending foreseen yet, the might of a thousand toyed with the will of one. Of course, they'd have their immense fun, but in a time such as this, it'd been brought to an end. Given their programming, and aggressive nature, no influence would stand to combat the influence of this particular conglomerate.
Delusively fanciful droplets of forlorn embers raged on, setting alight the dry timber of august, reducing leaves to a state far beyond the bearings of time itself. In an attempt to retrieve what was owed, everything within her immediate vicinity wasn't amongst our laws anymore. Left on the doorstep of void. Let's just say, a man who was once young would find himself robbed of this when he touched his own visage and found crows feet. This entity overstepped boundaries he wasn't supposed to, and of course, that'd been his own misgivings. There was nothing she could do for him, now, except face the music with him at the reaper's doorstep.
___
Everything of salient consequence had been disparaged with little to no effort— With that, she began with a simple stance, from an even simpler time. Her left leg was on the extension, as her right retained its stagnancy, careening slightly at the knee. Her sword-bearing extremity outstretched itself, while its opposition left her palm suspended in adjacency to her cerulean irises and cheekbone, facing towards terra firma's artistic failure. She'd wait for no man, but this man would wait for her.
After all, she was the reaper.
Another cacophonous outburst paid homage to the speed of Rizentarth, as the blade in question shot forth with the same vigor the others did. This, however, wasn't aiming at any specific part of his body, but the area above it. A seventy five degree angle is what'd formed between person and compatriot, suspending itself well above the beyonder's body. Given the distance between them both, interception was unlikely, unless it'd been from the point he'd sat at at this very moment. Futile, it would've been, to try and encompass the might of, given their nature.
However, as the current series of unfortunate events befell this person, she'd wonder if they'd be able to take what all happened in one fell swoop. Her stance is everlasting, plastered against the lines of reality, as the blade, if and when it reached its locale, would begin to rotate on its horizontal axis, leaving little droplets of jupiter for the man to take with him, wherever he went— After all, there was nowhere this creature could go that her resolve couldn't.
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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:11:06 GMT
OBITO: The interaction and cancelling of spreading his influence whcu called for him to strengthen and protect every aspect of with his indomitable will. Causing it to manifest on levels that weren’t just physical. Meaning, those influence and existences wouldn’t be able to sever the connection that was to be placed on the aforementioned elements and affinities in the future. Though now came the issue of whether or not this would be understood. His energy was part of him and his law, rage, sorrow, and infinite greed were seeking to destroy and covet everything under his banner protected by his will.
Another complex issue that quickly spawned, which was her bringing forth items from another space not upon this one. Though as an effect of his mere presence time and space would grind whatever sought to tamper with it into nothing, allowing the arrow heads to not pass through. This eternal decree also being backed by his willpower. Though like anything, the necessary action was precisely a quick time response used in synchronization with another attack. Which would be instantly seen weapons came into contact with the gossamer exitence that surrounded her, having their molecular structure torn assunder
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Like that, Phom changed the frequency of his battle, if he couldn’t extend aspects of himself towards everything, he’d force it to come to him by snatching the aforementioned elements out of the air and streaming the purified element throughout his system. So when she took her stance and that weapon shot from her, the male simply did what he did best. Play games. Letting the shimmering image that he left behind be the catalyst into his infinite and very much real insanity, see because of his movement which was masked by shrouding himself in aether that he commanded to move at his own frequency, the sword would be locked in the motion to continue attacking what would be him. Easy, only this time, another two shrouded variations to pull her into maddening euphoria would be sending his aura coated frame from the front to spear her whilst its image flickered over and over. Another seemingly more solidified variation would sent a jab towards her spine from behind, and would move as she did whilst building energy. The hit would carry enough force to shatter her armor completely, energy around its fist would split the molecules apart in the path to punch through her.
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Being as there was no actual tampering with time and space, sensing their presence was to be almost too late as it seemingly appeared behind her, another more final one to the knights right about 40 meters away from her. Simply watching with the sword he spawned in his hand, taking a more centurion stance with his sword in one hand and a silver shield covering most of his frame from behind. Also, covered in the same energy signature that slipped into the ground and became the focal point for energies buried in the planet. Four versions of him manifesting and none of them conveyed the truth of the matter.
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Post by Asher. on Mar 5, 2019 2:12:14 GMT
ASHER: Due to three other judges confirming my suspicion, Obito left the server and quit the fight. His post was deemed invalid before he left, however, leaving my victory solely off of the attack and not the forfeit.
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