Shen Long
Famous
Care-Bear of Doom
Aucune crainte
Posts: 69
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Post by Shen Long on Jul 22, 2006 3:46:37 GMT -5
(Me and Josh we're at this for like an hour and a half if not more, and we had alot of fun, this isn't by any means, legal, unless everyone wants it to be, we just thought it'd be to show everyone what we were mucking about with. so Please, enjoy and if you can't read something, let me know. I'll fix it. It was at like 1- like 3 am? it was hot"
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Shen Long
Famous
Care-Bear of Doom
Aucune crainte
Posts: 69
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Post by Shen Long on Jul 22, 2006 4:00:52 GMT -5
ShenLong “Where his Death came this day or the next, he still fought till the end, to the breaking point as he did in the confines of the Gray. Massive ebon talons clasping about the bundle of flowers the elder woman had given him. Gnawed leather like finger curling about the golden shilling he had given her. Shen had spent several days outside the village pushing back raiders and making minor repairs to the village walls. But this day, would be different, it would be a day of his undoing. Massive bronzed form standing amidst the dirt of the small sod-housed village, his hulking frame turning to shade his singular eye from the sun. Feeling the death approaching, his massive talons emoted with his even breathing flames. Standing in at a rough eight feet, six inches, shen weight close to six hundred pounds of raw hulking muscle. Blinded in the confines of his left eye he made his way to a small meadow just outside the village where he waited, and then he knew….Death had dealt him his hand this day.
Plaguebringer How he longed for it, oh how he longed to taste life once more. Pitty wanted nothing more to have taste, to have touch and smell, to have -something- resembling life in his horrid fractured shell. But those days have left him, for good. But he still hunts it vigorously, regardless of the lives he takes and the blood he spills in the name of his own satisfaction. He was of normal height for a 34 year old human male, 6.2 ft tall, with not an extraordinary build of any sort. Possibly a bit on the ‘lacking’ side of muscularity. Half of his body is set with pale white skin and glassy red eyes that look like that of an over-worked drunk, his back half, on the other hand, is a deep black, without any depth it seems and no surface in a way. His two halves connected by a line with strands of pointed blackness ‘latched’ on to the pale white skin. As if to keep him from escaping in a way. Dressed in his average ‘lets kill something attire’ of no shoes, no shirt, and loose fitting pants that could pass as a beggers best night ware. His effortless strides landed in the cold refreshing water of a stream bed leading to what Pitty felt to be people, and something outstandingly different. For every step he takes the water turns to a crude oily black substance, void of any natural life, the bands of this little stream dry up and crack while the moss and plan life around it turns to ash in the breeze. His black pony tail sways in the said breeze, a wicked grin upon his face is all that is seen from a distance as he rounds the bank, leaving him to fully be gazed upon by the Demon.[/color]
Shenlong Large three-pronged coven fingers, slurring with flames and ever breathing heat, kept well above the wheat and dry grass of the meadow. “A half-breed? No” He thought to himself in a calm soothing manner but the essence of this moment, what he felt from this man could be from where he stood.* “Turn yourself back walker, you know, you nor I have a place in their world, leave your hungry or barred at the gates. For Odin himself will stave your path this day..” *Demonic tongue though slurred still spoke with voice and from his frame echoing body, he moved forward, no weapons bared, but his warning as clear, to continue would mean death, for him or the walker, it meant no matter as long as this one did not cross the threshold of Moridanu’s world, he would hold the gate and turn back hundreds, even thousands if it meant the safety once again.
PlaugeBringer Pity lurched backwards on foot, as if he was to fall on his ass or something, completely defying physics with his arched position. For a moment he stays in that odd position, only to rush forward landing his other leg into the fresh coming water with a splash, and in doing so converting the water in mid air, hitting the bank with a plod of black crude. But within the stream itself, something awoke, bursting outwards the village was a creature, seeming to be Crude itself, exploding through the water converting it as it sped, coming to a halt in its course only to lead out of the stream directly at the Demon. When it left the surface of the quickly changing water it spread out in a wave of the oil to pounce him. The touch of this vile crude would surely put a hurting on the Demon, as it would poison him to the core. Not kill him of course, even Pity knew this one was much too strong to be overcome by a simple Tar Dweller. Though Pity himself took slow casual strides through the already converted blackness in approach of the Demon, with no fear “And Death Shall Ride In On The Back Of Man” is all he says while his Plague expands over the area. from the shores of this small stream creeps his sickness, into the village it spreads through the grass and the life dwelling inside it. Hoping to escape, beatles, grasshoppers, even squirrels leap from the evaporating clouds of ash that were once their homes, inhaling the sickness and capturing it on their fur they spread it to the tree’s and even further into the grass. The infected animals skin falls to ass as simply as the grass, the skin breaking out in boils and simply slumping off the muscle. Everything on the animal would do so, turning to the same grey ash like everything, leaving nothing but bone. Pity had defiantly arrived.[/color]
Shenlong: A great shout exploded from the great beast as he leapt to the sky, massive ebon wings taking flight from his mammoth frame. “ESCAPE THE VILLAGE!” His powerful voice ringing out well into the hills as fire bolts, as if being cast down from Zeus himself, to set the meadow ablaze to steam to slow the tide of the plague, for only but a moment while the children, men and women ran. “Odin’s Hand be cast this day Deathwalker!” Great bolts emoting into the path of the surging tar-monster and the wave, steaming from the ground massive black molting searing pillars of brimstone, Each bolt bringing forth more stone, whirling as he a searing ring began to engulf the meadow as the sky began to blacken as he cast the searing blots into the ground below. “On the backs of men Death will ride, but upon the backs of the Immortals? DEATH’S STEED BE HALTED!”
PlaugeBringer: The Tar Dweller was nothing, it came crashing upon the soil of the bank in a splash of crude into a pool of death sprawling outwards in the grass. Then it raised electricity, busting the grassland into a hefty fire, screaming women and children scattering for the tree lien “And From The Help Shall Arise a Victim” The fire met with Pity’s plague in a misty fog of death just outside the Village’s reach with a most unsettling aftermath. The fire dimmed, the flames became weak and shallow, but only for a moment before rising into a fiery wrath of blackened flames. The Plague had poisoned the very energy of the flames becoming a whole new perspective of death in all its horrible glory. The flames spread quickly, darting out in straight lines across the fields, the fields which the precious humans ran, in moment the entirety of the village was becoming overran with torrents of blackened flames, the people caught would be forced to take refuse in their homes and dwellings, only to have the flames straddle those too. But before the flames could reach their pathetic lives, the death of the Plague would seep in through the walls, filling the air with an ashy fog of war that they would inhale, poisoning them deeply, from the inside out. Oh how they would scream and holler to the world to end it, as their flesh peeled away, choking on the smoke, their limbs go limp while the muscle tissue rotted and turned to ash followed by their internal organs and finally their brain. All reduced to as within minutes. Pity watched the soaring Demon, feeling this was more than a good time to release his own internal flames. For a few seconds Pity shook and vibrated, letting out muffled screams of pain, his skin tearing open and patches of hair spreading out all over his body. Bones breaking, separated by forming bone stretching his limbs out, his torso elongated by a support of howls and pain obvious in Pitys state. Bone by bone, body part by body part the bone was stretched, hair was grown and skin was tore, but quickly healing and growing ever more hair. While his body changed, it lost what signs of humanity it had, being replaced by a much vicious animalistic feature. The darkness on his back grew a wavy mane of silky black hair fusing with his pony tail. This was no mere human that carried this vile plague, but a Werewolf, and within moments he has released himself. A this full height of 7.7 ft and nearly 412 pounds, Pity came form his cringing position to let out a bellowing roar upon the forest. The forest that was now ablaze with Death itself, consuming all life in its wretched path.[/color]
ShenLong Searing blaze in which he had so crudely produced to stave off the plague had been it’s industry of death decay and torture for the poor little ones below. Sorrowful eye watching the villagers tear themselves apart. His searing body rolling from his pitched perch in the sky. Silver glinting in the red sun as it the sunset shun over the horizon. This was indeed a pitched battle, and for Mori’s people their end. Echoing haunted howls came to him as the beast showed himself at last. “Beast burden, meet your doom, you may have taken their bodies, but their souls walk with the one God this day, I, may be a bringer of death, but this day, I am their mercy…” *Contorting features bunching, sleek ebon flowing through him, long ears snapping bones and talons molting into a new form. Shen’s form, long laid dormant within him, he revealed his lion-like face. Massive canines as the sleek ebon frame fell from the sky like a cannon, hurtling towards the massive hound like a freight train, he bunching his coven flaming fists into a ball, dropping below the beast enough to send him sky long into the echoes of the new moon. This would send the beast into terrible crashing of boulders of a quarry just south of where they were, hoping to finish him there.
PlaugeBringer: The Demon has forgotten the elements at which he fucks with so blatantly. Shen had come crashing down on Pity so ruthlessly, so forceful with speed as well as power to match it. What was it this stream had become, a flowing stream of crude? Yes, and when the Demon had made its pounce on Pity, he countered by raising both of his arms in welcoming, though when he did a ’shield’ of crude surrounded him, like a bubble if you will of sickness. As it would have it, the fiery vile had reached the streambed, igniting the tar in an even greater torrent of blackened fire. Though he brought the crude up, it was not used for protection as it would have seemed, because Shen would indeed go through it like liquid, sending him flying across the map like a soaring cannonball. But not quite like Shen had envisioned, he was caught in some tree’s on the way up, tearing one down without slow and hitting 2 more before landing once more on the lush green grass of the forest floor. But that would soon change as Death consumed it quickly in a wave of ash and blackness that never ceased. Pity lay on his back for a moment, be as he momentarily gained his bearing he scrambled for his feet. If all had been correct, the Demon should be seeing himself coated in the vile Crude, seeding in him over and over again the lethal plague that is Pity. He would feel it, like he was dying, only slowly and in small doses. Shen was indeed to strong, to willed, to be overtaken by such a method. The Blaze had ignited the Tar Stream, sending a line of fire all the way through the vast forest they were currently inside. The darkened flames instantly begint o consume the forest, spreading the wicked plague through its mass of ashy clouds. Thousands would breath that air, and in a few hours the winds shall change, casting it over towards the cities, towards the people. And with the wind, so shall the flames change directions, eating the life of the woods raw, leaving behind an empire of smoldering remains and clouds of plague consumed ash.[/color]
Shenlong: The tar seeping over him, the splash of the tar not effecting him at first but as his massive form echoed over the plain to the quarry, the first ghastly bat of pain hit him, then another as but as he knew it would be the beginning to the end. Shen’s feathers and sleek ebon wings began to break, tear the flesh and clumps of feathers fell from them as he soared, the bone itself breaking. First the left, then the right, and he was air born, but nothing to catch him. The Quarry was near next to a hundred feet deep on all sides, and he lost his wings at the top. Once a lush beautiful lake, when the lake began to dry the lake with it, and so, it would be their resting place. Echoing thuds as his massive frame sprawled down the rock face, blue blood searing the rock face. Finally come to a slow halt at the bottom of the quarry his body was scorched with bruises scarps, and scars. Large patches of his flesh now gone, along with his armor, and wings. Long the ebon sleeked lion man stood before the hound. Breathing heavily he brushing the blue from his maw as more slurred words came. “Come hound, this will be your end, your plague will be wrought by the mystics of Moridanu’s land, but you? Ha, your end is here, but if I have to die, sending you to Odin’ hall, SO BE IT!” *With that, Shen’s right hand rose, and fell, massive sleek brimstone sheers of rock came up around them, hundreds of feet tall around the quarry with no footholds, forming a dome around them. “Let be done with it then, I have place to be and better whelps to slay!”
Plaguebearer : The trees and earth dying swiftly around Pity were uprooted rather effectively, causing all the surface he was on to go tumbling into the quarry over its edge, taking him with it. Pity leapt on to the trunk of a falling tree, gripping into the wood hard with his massive clawed paws, the piercing claws themselves embedding the poison of his Plague deep within the wood, and it instantly dies, the entire tree becoming void of all life, petrifying as is cascades down the quarry wall. “MUWAHAHAAHAH!!! You fool! You just locked yourself in an airtight cage with the Plague itself!” The leaves of the tree turned to ash mid air, but unlike the ash that was clouding up and sweeping the lands of Morthika, this Ash was crowding around Pity himself, followed by the bits and pieces of wood rotting beneath his well planted feet giving him a gray misty appearance. Pity leapt from the tree, or what was left of it with great speed, the enhanced Wolf muscles sending him hurdling to the Demonic form that has his Seed, his Plague, burrowed within him. The point was to tackle the Demon, attempting to latch on with both arms and dig them in deep with all his claws and simply begin to tear him apart. And of course, every time they touch, more of the plague would seep into the Demon. And unlike the Crude, this was the purity of the Plague which gave it a higher potency. If a wound were to be caused buy his claws, or teeth (Yes there would be biting), the sickness would be even more easily introduced to his bloodstream, unleashing the death into him.[/color]
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Post by The Joshness ™ on Jul 28, 2006 22:43:33 GMT -5
Pity: “Then shall you life be consumed in the wave of Death. Along with everything else.” Pity felt no remorse, no pain, the only emotion he had was pity. Pity for himself and himself alone, pity that caused the death of masses. He was a gnarly beast, not enormous in girth, but as all wolfs have, his strength is not based upon his size but her ferocity. The great waves of heat like that of lighting Goes through his body with increable ease, turning his frail flesh to embers and dust in the process. Yet again the tools of Honor shall be your undoing. The ashes flesh and burning tissue did no separate from his body, like the crude and the Plagued grass, his body adapts to it. Sections of his beastly torso and portions of his limbs burst into a blackened unholy flame. He lost no momentum on Shen And like the fire that had consumed him somewhat, he felt nothing but a hunger for life. The darkness engulfed the dome, as there is no sunlight here, but it was soon illuminated by Pity, the blaze burning within his chest was glowing bright, casting evil shadows from the both of them. The smoke rising from his unholy person raises to the air, it would be only so long before those devastating fumes consumed the enclosed space, and Shen would be inhaling and breathing the very plague he fought. When Pity came in range of his noble fallen enemy, which would be something like arms length, he just strikes out in a series of swift jabs and kicks at his face and chest. The series would be as followed, an using the bottom of his foot he would let out a powerful quick hoping to be planted on the center Of his face hoping to knock him back. Following that, with true animalistic strength, he would swing swiftly with his right hand then left both targeting Shens chest. The right hand was aimed at his solar plexus, hoping to knock the wind out of the massive demon. While the left one, upon being swung, quickly became engulfed in fiery black sickness, if it made contact it would surely begin to engulf The demon in only a matter of time. Pity was an avid fighter, though good he was also blatant and never plotting a fight as much as he liked to just do the berserker thing. Attack with full force with no regard for any life, including his own.
Shen: The swift jab connecting, searing pain hit him as the hound’s plague began to work upon his chest and face once more. The Air and light becoming thin as he rolled hard into the darkness. Gasping cough, grasping him as his breathing became so ragged. Large chunks of flesh and tissue dropping from him like spats of leaves from a tree. Massive talons gripping the gravel below him, stepping back, as the sleekness of his flesh came back to him, contorting features, arching talons as he leapt from one section of darkness, to the next, keeping along the wall, his steps made no sound as he climbed along brimstone. Grinning maw as he shivering, rippling his flesh over his massive form, though not seen but heard. Only thing that could be heard in the darkness was Shen’s flesh dripping from his form, shivering more to drop the ruined flesh from his form, as new tissue began to grow. “How long you think it will take you to get out of here, Dog? A day, or two, perhaps a year? Maybe a hundred? “ *Echoing words moved about the cavern walls as he continued to move without a sound. A hue of forest green, emerald-golden light flowing over the top of the quarry as it widened, and began to grow. Sharp shots of a green-golden color flowing into the ground around the hound, there was nothing, no shape, no form, no energy to draw from this substance, it was nothing and yet destroyed everything, lacing the ground in an emerald coating, twas a small counter balance to Pity’s plague. The emerald shots became jade within the ground around him, mere jade, nothing more, nothing less. Enough of the blast to stem the flow of his plague, to eat at it as it ate the air, but if it were to be consumed, it would be as nothing were there, as if there was -nothing- to consume. Echoing laughter as massive demos began to climb the quarry walls. “The Hades Eye Hound, enjoy yourself. I have a counter balance for you..”
Pity: Laughter consumed him like the plague itself, bellowing laughter that filled the arena like the smoke “Do you think this your stone can keep me here? Become a tomb for the plague?! You know not of what you deal with!!!” Pity tossed both of his arms out in a welcoming of sorts, at that time “Im the Father of Death! Emperor of Decay! Destruction Incarnate!” Something became aroused Inside of Pity, and it was releasing itself into the arena. Shen’s Jade, supposed to counter Pity is some substantial way but how could Shen know or understand the ineffectiveness of his actions? The Smoke in the room became dense, forming a fine ash substance floating around in the air, more and more gathering as the flame about Pity continued. “Like that of age, watch as I consume your tomb.” He continues laughing hysterically, the ashy powder begins to travel in circles around in the room, start of slow and rapidly gains speed and force. The Plague rapidly eats away at all the metallic surfaces turning its remains into rusted dust that also clouds the room in the spinning mass of death. Just as Pity had promise, the destruction was quick, light even pierced into the arena in small gaps where the brimstone had been disintegrated into dust in his vortex of decay. The Jade, just as if it was spending million of years in a dust storm, was becoming ever more thin as his plague worked its way. Also, Shen, which happened to be in this storm, would be getting the same effect as the very walls he made. He would be rapidly decaying in Pity’s wrath. Outside the Dome, the river of flaming tar was converging on the dome, climbing up its sides, leaving paths of the plagues devastating tar, which was now ablaze. The Tar would really have no effect in any way being of a different use, but as portions of the exposed metal and stone walls were destroyed, clods of flaming crude would come falling in, illuminating the room quickly.
Shen: “Good dog, but you haven’t got me yet..” *In a sense he did, but then again, Shen’s form was truly never there. The visage of Shen, fell into the plain of Death below. But as he fell, his eye glazed and the flesh grayed , the body turning to ash below. In astral planes of this verse there was a being in which controlled the body, The Soul of the corpse that fell below. The Body, a mere of shell, “Blackening plagues seep through even the ash and searing pain in which engulfed the great form. Good Dog.” A black crow mawed at the ancient oak of the tree as the plague began to grow, the massive crow took flight husk of what he truly was.
Pity: Pity knew Shen had fallen, but nothing like he had wanted. He just passed through to the next dimension, or however you liked to think of it I guess. His essence tore through the wall so his tomb within minutes, setting him free and filling the inside with a lake of flaming crude that sent a pillar of blackened fire and smoke into the clouding sky. Pity could be viewed from the outside, At the center of this lake in a patch that was not engulfed in the dark blaze, portions of his own Canite body shinning with deathly embers across his torso and his entire left arm. “Extinguish you, I will, Demon.” The fiery plague and its vile ashy smoke continued sweeping across the lands as the wind picked up in the direction of Morthika’s more populated areas.
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