Post by Wyntre Cold on Nov 21, 2014 5:40:00 GMT
Drat. Drat. Drattity Drat Drat of Drat. Draaaaat. You know, most people would want to be Wyntre if exposed to her life; luxury, money, murder and death! This was one of those few times no-one would. You see, there was a giant robot there. It was formed when four other robots merged, you see? While three of which were quite pathetic, they had good tricks up their sleeves. The last of which, Strorce, had a power that didn't affect affect her, but had colossal strength. And now... well, now, they had all merged together somehow. It looked at her oddly. Drat drat drat drat Draaaaat drattity drat drat. I mean, how does that even work? It's Power Level surpassed her own with flying colours. Her Death Beam was practically pointless since it only destroyed a certain point, and the creature (who she had decided to call Fundamenton) probably had no single heart or brain, not that you could see any. Then it struck her. You don't need to defeat it. Only stall so the explosion can take it out! But then- oh. How was she going to get out of the explosion? Sure, she could probably survive being chopped in half, beaten by a Super Saiyan and dropped on a exploding planet (:3) yet alone a mere few hundred tones of dynamite, but that would probably hurt!
It was a shame the computer wasn't telling her how long they had until the big boom-boom. It could be any second, really. The large robot took a large jab at her, which hit her because she was not focused. She flew across the room, a bruise showing. She hated bruises. Drat. The robot jumped towards her with a large jump, but Wyntre managed to turn to the side and roll in time. While avoiding the jump, it wasn't quite enough for the being itself. It snatched her body with a single hand as her central gravity intensified, and she felt static discharges scatter across her skin. And then it threw her. She hit a large metal object, not quite a wall. When she got a good look, she noticed it was the mech suit Axis Tilt had used earlier... and it gave her ideas. But then she remembered; electromagnetism can kill you with the suit as a conductor, it could gravitate the metal all into one central mass and crush you with it, perhaps freezing it by stopping all chemical reactions or attach her as if the suit wasn't there with a lack of Weak Force. Well, that ruined the plan.
She jumped towards the machine and shot a Death Beam at it's stomach area, which, as expected, did next to nothing, before it hit her across the room from mid-air. Drat. A line of blood came out of her mouth, too, although nothing time can't handle. The next thing she saw was a giant figure about to jump onto her. Okay. Maybe time can't heal this one. She barely managed to fly out in time before she shot another Death Beam which did nothing at all. Yeah, it shot straight through, but sadly, it didn't hit anything important, and it didn't have a sense of pain. She wished she didn't have such a weakness; pain. "Self-destruct in 10. 9. 8. 7."
Uh-oh. This also caught the attention of the robot, who she assumed unintelligible to English prior. Quickly, she ninja's her way up Axis's mecha and down the hatchet she partially broke, into an area of complex buttons, windy controls and a comfortable black chair. "6.5.4.3."
Seeing that it would not survive this encounter, the machine turned to the mech in which it knew Wyntre was protected in. And then it took a step, a step which turned into a run, a run which turned into a charge, and a charge which turned some instincts around. Oh, she could feel it. She could feel the electricity, now stronger, stinging her skin. She could feel her bodies chemical reactions halted to a stop. She could feel the gravity intensify to amounts it should never come to bear. She felt the metal beneath her slowly sink away, as if melting without heat, as the bonds of Weak Force had melted. She felt the utter hopelessness. She felt that this was the end. She felt... scared. You are not scared, she told herself. You are brave, she told herself. One day she might believe it. "2.1."
At first, you could only feel a slight rumbling in the background, but then the floor started to shake. The sound intensified, as if if had gotten nearer. The vibrations did too, as the mech started to rock. Scared, although not willing to admit it, even to herself, she pressed a button on a television which gave her vision of the outside. All she could see was white. White flame. It was so very white, as if an Angel's blessing. Wyntre spat in disgust at this thought. And soon, as the holy white turned into the warm red of flame, and then to the deathly black of ash. By this time, Wyntre knew it safe. She punched open the hatchet and flew out, analyzing the environment. All over the walls, the floor and the roof was a layer of soot and ash, which was strange, since that's not exactly normal. The armor she had used as a shield now lay damaged and partially molten, as did some parts of the wall, floor and roof. But last of all, and this was her favorite, was Fundamenton, the composite robot. He was battered in all regards, the only part of him not molten was the left half of it's torso. Oh, this was all too good... and because of this, she burst out in laughter, poking and prodding the torso, kicking it around a bit before she realized she needed to end this threat and stop acting like a child. And so she let out a finger.
Kablamo, it went! The torso itself then got destroyed , leaving all trace of Fundamenton gone. And then she heard a laugh, a despicable laugh. The very sound of it sickened her to the core. Not because it was a sick, horrid, gut-wrenching laugh, but merely because it was better than hers. And she had known the tone, too. It sounded like... no, it can't be... Zarmar! She pondered this for a moment. This cannot be right, surely! She defeated Zarmar. But then again- he was free to go afterwards. Maybe he simply came back to home. Oh, he deserves to die now. As does Axis, he more so for trying to kidnap the rightful heir to Arcose! Yes, yes, her two brothers are higher in priority for the crown, but who says they won't, oh let's see... accidentally die, for example. 'Don't look at me, I can't afford as assassin!', she's say. She'd be the assassin. Plus, she can afford an assassin. She came through a door and down a corridor, the damage becoming greater the closer she came. Using this as a clue, she had found a labyrinth of mazes, puzzles and traps. It seems Axis, or whoever else had built this place, had watched way too much Indiana Jones, despite being 2,000 years old in itself. The remakes, though, they're okay. We had Indiana Jones 62 last friday!
But enough of that. Eventually, she had found a number of odd rooms that seemed to have no purpose, and a room without a purpose is no room at all but rather an entrance to one with purpose. And so she let out a finger. You could deduce what had happened next, but rather than that, it did something. It, and guess did, opened a door revealing another which contained Axis Tilt on a (fake) golden throne and Zarmar standing next to him, as if a dog wanting a treat. "Wait- how'd you get here? You're supposed to tip the book to reveal the secret book-case entrance!" Wyntre almost laughed at his pitiful observation, if such a dementation can even be called so. Such a pathetic old man. His teeth must be mush by now. Wyntre had decided she go onto the creepy, sadistic approach to scare them, too. That was ways good fun. "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but mine shall never falter." Oh, this was jolly good fun. She let out a sadistic laugh before making a small show of power with some basic ki. "Rocks and fists may crush your skull, while I, in eternal wonder." It seemed her poetry books payed off. But still, she was yet to finish off the poem, both beautiful and cruel. "Death and Fear are in your heart, yet I, above the thunder," Oh, this was really getting better and better. I mean, they're petrified with fear! Bedridden with the smell! "Guns and lasers may end your life; yet I? Forever better." She could roll over laughing right now, it was that good! "Sticks and stones may break your bones- If I don't any prior."
And then Axis Tilt dropped like a rock in a pond. It must have been the fear. In all honesty, she was surprised the whole self-destruct thing didn't destroy this room too, but that was for another time. Now that she thought about it, it wasn't exactly a good poem either, oh well. That only left Zarmar, who was completely ignoring his masters immense shock and possible heart attack. Okay, not like a dog. Maybe, more like a hamster. No, not like a hamster, Like a... like a untrained dog? Don't ask! He was awfully still, too. She also remembered removing quite a lot of his limbs after he gave the information she needed, and surely he couldn't have been fully repaired in a little less than ninety minutes! Well, that left a number of possibilities... maybe Axis was very good at repairing things. Or maybe, maybe there are multiple Zarmars. Considering their strength, this could may as well be her end. They're a threat! Maybe, she rationed, but maybe an ally too. The other side of her head scoffed, saying (thinking?) that they've been created to kill her and cannot be made allies with, and plus, we'd never let them, they're a threat. Then a small bundle of neurons spoke up and mentioned that they where awful fun to kill, in which everyone agreed and retired to putting 'Death' in front of attack names and dancing about. Wyntre stood there, confused at what she was thinking, before she snapped back to reality. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to get out of here alive."
Okay, that was hilarious! And, because of this, she broke out in a cackling and cruel, yet somehow innocent laugh. Meanwhile, Zarmar's left eye flashed a few colours for a few seconds before fading away. "My in-built scouter tells me you've improved."
At this signal, Wyntre's little cackle halted to a stop as she looked at him oddly, which itself soon became a smile. "I know, it's a little something called 'training'."
This had angered Zarmar quite immensely, at the look of things. Suddenly, a golden sword of flame irradiated the room with light and heat, illuminating the grin on Zarmar's face before it ran forward and took a swipe. But as soon as he could have fit her, she disappeared and reappeared behind him. It wasn't a special technique, simply speed. "Too slow."
This had angered the already angry Zarmar above and beyond. He turned around and took another slice, but she simply reappeared where she was earlier in a flash. Then, his raging face turned into a laughing one as it seemed he prepared something. "I've improved too."
This didn't come at a shock at all, though. She was waiting for something like this. In a flash of light, fire engulfed Zarmar. It was if a man took a dip in oil and just had a firing torch thrown on him. His muscle mass had increased, his red skin had gotten black marks in it, and he had gained an aura of red. "That's a nice show, but you're still weak than me, even in this limited form."
Zarmar started laughing even more, cackling in the false hope and confidence that he will prevail, bathing in a pool of ignorance. "Perhaps now, but I haven't even reached my Ultimate Form! Bathe in the knowledge that you will be first to die at my han-" he said, but he stopped in shock when he noticed the new gaping hole in his chest. His muscles receded to their usual, his black bits of skin and hair reddened and he stopped flaming like a torch. He looked at his hand, which had extreme amounts of blood in it, as he slowly fell in shock, as if slow-motion. Unusually red blood dripped over the floor as Zarmar barely managed to stay conscious. When he recovered from the sheer shock, he looked up to see a finger pointed right at him, a pinkish-red spark dancing across her skin.
"Long live the Days of Cold."
[END]
It was a shame the computer wasn't telling her how long they had until the big boom-boom. It could be any second, really. The large robot took a large jab at her, which hit her because she was not focused. She flew across the room, a bruise showing. She hated bruises. Drat. The robot jumped towards her with a large jump, but Wyntre managed to turn to the side and roll in time. While avoiding the jump, it wasn't quite enough for the being itself. It snatched her body with a single hand as her central gravity intensified, and she felt static discharges scatter across her skin. And then it threw her. She hit a large metal object, not quite a wall. When she got a good look, she noticed it was the mech suit Axis Tilt had used earlier... and it gave her ideas. But then she remembered; electromagnetism can kill you with the suit as a conductor, it could gravitate the metal all into one central mass and crush you with it, perhaps freezing it by stopping all chemical reactions or attach her as if the suit wasn't there with a lack of Weak Force. Well, that ruined the plan.
She jumped towards the machine and shot a Death Beam at it's stomach area, which, as expected, did next to nothing, before it hit her across the room from mid-air. Drat. A line of blood came out of her mouth, too, although nothing time can't handle. The next thing she saw was a giant figure about to jump onto her. Okay. Maybe time can't heal this one. She barely managed to fly out in time before she shot another Death Beam which did nothing at all. Yeah, it shot straight through, but sadly, it didn't hit anything important, and it didn't have a sense of pain. She wished she didn't have such a weakness; pain. "Self-destruct in 10. 9. 8. 7."
Uh-oh. This also caught the attention of the robot, who she assumed unintelligible to English prior. Quickly, she ninja's her way up Axis's mecha and down the hatchet she partially broke, into an area of complex buttons, windy controls and a comfortable black chair. "6.5.4.3."
Seeing that it would not survive this encounter, the machine turned to the mech in which it knew Wyntre was protected in. And then it took a step, a step which turned into a run, a run which turned into a charge, and a charge which turned some instincts around. Oh, she could feel it. She could feel the electricity, now stronger, stinging her skin. She could feel her bodies chemical reactions halted to a stop. She could feel the gravity intensify to amounts it should never come to bear. She felt the metal beneath her slowly sink away, as if melting without heat, as the bonds of Weak Force had melted. She felt the utter hopelessness. She felt that this was the end. She felt... scared. You are not scared, she told herself. You are brave, she told herself. One day she might believe it. "2.1."
At first, you could only feel a slight rumbling in the background, but then the floor started to shake. The sound intensified, as if if had gotten nearer. The vibrations did too, as the mech started to rock. Scared, although not willing to admit it, even to herself, she pressed a button on a television which gave her vision of the outside. All she could see was white. White flame. It was so very white, as if an Angel's blessing. Wyntre spat in disgust at this thought. And soon, as the holy white turned into the warm red of flame, and then to the deathly black of ash. By this time, Wyntre knew it safe. She punched open the hatchet and flew out, analyzing the environment. All over the walls, the floor and the roof was a layer of soot and ash, which was strange, since that's not exactly normal. The armor she had used as a shield now lay damaged and partially molten, as did some parts of the wall, floor and roof. But last of all, and this was her favorite, was Fundamenton, the composite robot. He was battered in all regards, the only part of him not molten was the left half of it's torso. Oh, this was all too good... and because of this, she burst out in laughter, poking and prodding the torso, kicking it around a bit before she realized she needed to end this threat and stop acting like a child. And so she let out a finger.
Kablamo, it went! The torso itself then got destroyed , leaving all trace of Fundamenton gone. And then she heard a laugh, a despicable laugh. The very sound of it sickened her to the core. Not because it was a sick, horrid, gut-wrenching laugh, but merely because it was better than hers. And she had known the tone, too. It sounded like... no, it can't be... Zarmar! She pondered this for a moment. This cannot be right, surely! She defeated Zarmar. But then again- he was free to go afterwards. Maybe he simply came back to home. Oh, he deserves to die now. As does Axis, he more so for trying to kidnap the rightful heir to Arcose! Yes, yes, her two brothers are higher in priority for the crown, but who says they won't, oh let's see... accidentally die, for example. 'Don't look at me, I can't afford as assassin!', she's say. She'd be the assassin. Plus, she can afford an assassin. She came through a door and down a corridor, the damage becoming greater the closer she came. Using this as a clue, she had found a labyrinth of mazes, puzzles and traps. It seems Axis, or whoever else had built this place, had watched way too much Indiana Jones, despite being 2,000 years old in itself. The remakes, though, they're okay. We had Indiana Jones 62 last friday!
But enough of that. Eventually, she had found a number of odd rooms that seemed to have no purpose, and a room without a purpose is no room at all but rather an entrance to one with purpose. And so she let out a finger. You could deduce what had happened next, but rather than that, it did something. It, and guess did, opened a door revealing another which contained Axis Tilt on a (fake) golden throne and Zarmar standing next to him, as if a dog wanting a treat. "Wait- how'd you get here? You're supposed to tip the book to reveal the secret book-case entrance!" Wyntre almost laughed at his pitiful observation, if such a dementation can even be called so. Such a pathetic old man. His teeth must be mush by now. Wyntre had decided she go onto the creepy, sadistic approach to scare them, too. That was ways good fun. "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but mine shall never falter." Oh, this was jolly good fun. She let out a sadistic laugh before making a small show of power with some basic ki. "Rocks and fists may crush your skull, while I, in eternal wonder." It seemed her poetry books payed off. But still, she was yet to finish off the poem, both beautiful and cruel. "Death and Fear are in your heart, yet I, above the thunder," Oh, this was really getting better and better. I mean, they're petrified with fear! Bedridden with the smell! "Guns and lasers may end your life; yet I? Forever better." She could roll over laughing right now, it was that good! "Sticks and stones may break your bones- If I don't any prior."
And then Axis Tilt dropped like a rock in a pond. It must have been the fear. In all honesty, she was surprised the whole self-destruct thing didn't destroy this room too, but that was for another time. Now that she thought about it, it wasn't exactly a good poem either, oh well. That only left Zarmar, who was completely ignoring his masters immense shock and possible heart attack. Okay, not like a dog. Maybe, more like a hamster. No, not like a hamster, Like a... like a untrained dog? Don't ask! He was awfully still, too. She also remembered removing quite a lot of his limbs after he gave the information she needed, and surely he couldn't have been fully repaired in a little less than ninety minutes! Well, that left a number of possibilities... maybe Axis was very good at repairing things. Or maybe, maybe there are multiple Zarmars. Considering their strength, this could may as well be her end. They're a threat! Maybe, she rationed, but maybe an ally too. The other side of her head scoffed, saying (thinking?) that they've been created to kill her and cannot be made allies with, and plus, we'd never let them, they're a threat. Then a small bundle of neurons spoke up and mentioned that they where awful fun to kill, in which everyone agreed and retired to putting 'Death' in front of attack names and dancing about. Wyntre stood there, confused at what she was thinking, before she snapped back to reality. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to get out of here alive."
Okay, that was hilarious! And, because of this, she broke out in a cackling and cruel, yet somehow innocent laugh. Meanwhile, Zarmar's left eye flashed a few colours for a few seconds before fading away. "My in-built scouter tells me you've improved."
At this signal, Wyntre's little cackle halted to a stop as she looked at him oddly, which itself soon became a smile. "I know, it's a little something called 'training'."
This had angered Zarmar quite immensely, at the look of things. Suddenly, a golden sword of flame irradiated the room with light and heat, illuminating the grin on Zarmar's face before it ran forward and took a swipe. But as soon as he could have fit her, she disappeared and reappeared behind him. It wasn't a special technique, simply speed. "Too slow."
This had angered the already angry Zarmar above and beyond. He turned around and took another slice, but she simply reappeared where she was earlier in a flash. Then, his raging face turned into a laughing one as it seemed he prepared something. "I've improved too."
This didn't come at a shock at all, though. She was waiting for something like this. In a flash of light, fire engulfed Zarmar. It was if a man took a dip in oil and just had a firing torch thrown on him. His muscle mass had increased, his red skin had gotten black marks in it, and he had gained an aura of red. "That's a nice show, but you're still weak than me, even in this limited form."
Zarmar started laughing even more, cackling in the false hope and confidence that he will prevail, bathing in a pool of ignorance. "Perhaps now, but I haven't even reached my Ultimate Form! Bathe in the knowledge that you will be first to die at my han-" he said, but he stopped in shock when he noticed the new gaping hole in his chest. His muscles receded to their usual, his black bits of skin and hair reddened and he stopped flaming like a torch. He looked at his hand, which had extreme amounts of blood in it, as he slowly fell in shock, as if slow-motion. Unusually red blood dripped over the floor as Zarmar barely managed to stay conscious. When he recovered from the sheer shock, he looked up to see a finger pointed right at him, a pinkish-red spark dancing across her skin.
"Long live the Days of Cold."
[END]