Post by Koramund on Apr 9, 2016 23:31:33 GMT
Koramund started the training session by forming a cord of muscle between his palms. The pink stretchy material grew a little longer so he could wrap it around his palms and use them as jump rope. Then, his back erupted into a shower of pink gore that flew back to reform the details of another set of arms and hands. They formed a cord themselves so that Koramund could commit his art of balance and timing. He disconnected his mind from his arms, letting them grow small brains themselves and direct so that Koramund could focus on his double dutch without any cheating.
The cords of flesh hung silently until Koramund had finished his preparations. With all of that complete, the cords of muscle tightened and began their dreaded spin. Some people, even if fit, couldn't even do 10 of these. Koramund wanted to do 10,000 of them without breaking a sweat! With the difficulty of the assignment basically tuned up to EXTRA EXTRA HELL difficulty, he began! e bounced and skipped between the cords with ease at first, feeling out for where they were going to be, at least until they started to go in different directions! With one above his head and one under, and changing in speed, it began to be a challenge of memory as well! Was the one above him faster, or was it the one below? When did it switch? Did he leave the oven on before he died? All of the questions blurring together as the muscle danced with him.
The fire deep within his body began to rush and rage again. His hearts pulsated to the beat of his feet, one, two, three, skip, two, one, three. The beat just kept on changing, always adapting to some sort of evil that was beyond Koramund. His very essence was a corrupted mire of sludge that demanded itself to be set on fire in some attempt to purge the heretic and the hypocrite. He refused and denied reality by making that sludge himself. His putrid remains of a soul smelled of blood and acid. This primitive smell of soul maniefested as his lonliness, for if any with sense went near him they could feel him. That acidic was a warning, danger turn away! It made them naturally shun him, and that's why his tail was so hungry. It wanted the acid to feed, and they dared run, turning his instincts to hunt and kill on their head.
He felt the hunt as he skipped faster and faster, growing a third rope with his third pair of arms. He used his ghostly powers so his arms could go through each other, occupying the same space. He began to burn off more energy by growing spikes along the ropes, sending them off periodically to put him up on his toes! Ooze trailed behind as a gaseous blood that frightened Koramund a bit. Without any one else to focus on, he was a witness to all of his insanity first hand. With undivided focus, he kept on his dance of agony. He was half certain he was subconsciously break dancing just to keep up with himself. It was amusing to realize it, just so he could say that he had made something of himself, art.
Then, Koramund decided to turn it up to 99 of a 10 point scale. His body erupted into a shower of black as hundreds of clones floated around him, all holding cords of the spiky flesh. Some extras stood outside, firing out ki lances towards the real Koramund. The absurdly huge game of jump rope began., though at this point it was probably just a game of survival. Koramund grew his vast insectoid wings so that he could practice being at this size. His chest grew forth into one like that of a knight, puffed out and rigid. He grew a battle kilt and thickened his thighs to further balance out his spacial awareness skills. Then finally he removed his eyes, forcing him to focus with only ki. If Koramund was anything other then Bio Android, he was half certain this would have killed him. All of the clones grew their new brains and fully started up the carnival.
Koramund bounced, flew and broke danced his way through the cords of flesh and ki of death. Spikes flew past him missing by the millenions of milimeters, ki practically scorching his face but always missing. His only advantage was his hollow body, letting him move as quickly as he needed. He began to even use his tail as a balancing point, feeling out the air and stabbing the ground beneth him. He revolved around himself, flying out of the carnival as soon as he realized he was to outmatched here. The sudden escape made him return back to one being instead of the pile of mush he had predicted. The three ki blasts hit from different angles, annihilating where he would have been.
Kora just sat there in defeat, but hopeful defeat it was. He could grow stronger, he never fully hit that capstone of weakness. He could advance and he could still feel that hunger inside. Now, all he needed was to get out of here... and find a corpse.
The cords of flesh hung silently until Koramund had finished his preparations. With all of that complete, the cords of muscle tightened and began their dreaded spin. Some people, even if fit, couldn't even do 10 of these. Koramund wanted to do 10,000 of them without breaking a sweat! With the difficulty of the assignment basically tuned up to EXTRA EXTRA HELL difficulty, he began! e bounced and skipped between the cords with ease at first, feeling out for where they were going to be, at least until they started to go in different directions! With one above his head and one under, and changing in speed, it began to be a challenge of memory as well! Was the one above him faster, or was it the one below? When did it switch? Did he leave the oven on before he died? All of the questions blurring together as the muscle danced with him.
The fire deep within his body began to rush and rage again. His hearts pulsated to the beat of his feet, one, two, three, skip, two, one, three. The beat just kept on changing, always adapting to some sort of evil that was beyond Koramund. His very essence was a corrupted mire of sludge that demanded itself to be set on fire in some attempt to purge the heretic and the hypocrite. He refused and denied reality by making that sludge himself. His putrid remains of a soul smelled of blood and acid. This primitive smell of soul maniefested as his lonliness, for if any with sense went near him they could feel him. That acidic was a warning, danger turn away! It made them naturally shun him, and that's why his tail was so hungry. It wanted the acid to feed, and they dared run, turning his instincts to hunt and kill on their head.
He felt the hunt as he skipped faster and faster, growing a third rope with his third pair of arms. He used his ghostly powers so his arms could go through each other, occupying the same space. He began to burn off more energy by growing spikes along the ropes, sending them off periodically to put him up on his toes! Ooze trailed behind as a gaseous blood that frightened Koramund a bit. Without any one else to focus on, he was a witness to all of his insanity first hand. With undivided focus, he kept on his dance of agony. He was half certain he was subconsciously break dancing just to keep up with himself. It was amusing to realize it, just so he could say that he had made something of himself, art.
Then, Koramund decided to turn it up to 99 of a 10 point scale. His body erupted into a shower of black as hundreds of clones floated around him, all holding cords of the spiky flesh. Some extras stood outside, firing out ki lances towards the real Koramund. The absurdly huge game of jump rope began., though at this point it was probably just a game of survival. Koramund grew his vast insectoid wings so that he could practice being at this size. His chest grew forth into one like that of a knight, puffed out and rigid. He grew a battle kilt and thickened his thighs to further balance out his spacial awareness skills. Then finally he removed his eyes, forcing him to focus with only ki. If Koramund was anything other then Bio Android, he was half certain this would have killed him. All of the clones grew their new brains and fully started up the carnival.
Koramund bounced, flew and broke danced his way through the cords of flesh and ki of death. Spikes flew past him missing by the millenions of milimeters, ki practically scorching his face but always missing. His only advantage was his hollow body, letting him move as quickly as he needed. He began to even use his tail as a balancing point, feeling out the air and stabbing the ground beneth him. He revolved around himself, flying out of the carnival as soon as he realized he was to outmatched here. The sudden escape made him return back to one being instead of the pile of mush he had predicted. The three ki blasts hit from different angles, annihilating where he would have been.
Kora just sat there in defeat, but hopeful defeat it was. He could grow stronger, he never fully hit that capstone of weakness. He could advance and he could still feel that hunger inside. Now, all he needed was to get out of here... and find a corpse.