Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25631224-20160221062657/@comment-26571677-20160306082341

"Fun? Not fun. More...relief, of anger."

Then the air was silent once more, as a wave of freezing air drifted across the barren and burning desert.

She came out of her teleportation running, strafing slightly to avoid the bullets that kicked up sand and the explosions that lit the world up in orange.

The way to the artillery was far, and well guarded, about 50 metres away. Five jumps. She'd already made 4. It wasn't worth expending the energy that her semblance sapped. She took to running, a nightmarish streak of electric blue and black in the scarce light.

The foot-soldiers swivelled their heads, snarling, anger and arrogance in their eyes. Fools. It would be their undoing.

But the best way for her to get into their encampment, would be from the inside itself, and she saw no easy way of getting in there, besides being 'captured'.

So she dropped her weapon, skidding into a halt, face full of mock terror that looked terrifyingly real. She backed away slowly, as the men advanced upon her, grinning lecherously.

One of them grabbed her from the back, and she resisted the urge to vomit, barely maintaining her mask of fake horror. Then she snapped, as her trigger was snagged, her boundaries violated.

The man walked up to hr, talking casually to the other soldier,

"Well don't we have a pearl here!? You've killed a lot of our friends, haven't you?"

She looked up at him, still pretending to be intimidated,

"Well. I know exactly how you can repay us!"

He walked up to her, and put his hand on her neck, slowly guiding it down.

Her face dropped. Her eyes and expression changing in the blink of an eye. At this moment, the soldier knew that he'd made a horrible mistake. He started to draw back his hand, but it was too late.

Opening her mouth, she bit down on his thumb, making him scream in pain as bone snapped, skin tore, and muscle parted. She drew back, spitting out the dismembered finger as her assaulted stumbled back screaming, holding his hand as if another part would drop off at any second.

He turned her head back, and gripped the neck of the person holding her with her teeth. Sharp incisors tore through the fragile skin and thin layer of flesh, as the dunes were sprayed with bright, shining red from the torn jugular.

The others were only now coming out of their shock, and brought up their weapons, firing wildly at the demon. Valka simply flipped the ravaged onto her back, using the live, bleeding soldier as a human shield, grinning as bullets thumped into the flesh, ending his life.

She pulled the pin on one of the grenades, and threw the corpse at the attacking soldiers, feeling the shockwave of the explosion, unflinching, even as she was lightly sprayed with blood.

The last two, seeing their commander without a thumb, and their squadmates destroyed with no effort, wisely started to run away, screaming, dropping their weapon.

No such luck.

Doppler's evil, glinting blade ripped through the ceramic plate that the soldier on the right wore, killing the man instantly as the blade snapped his spine into tiny shards. The other one didn't even have the time to scream before the desert was covered with anothertwo splatters of blood and gore.

She caught Doppler as it flew back to her, and walke with leisure to the commanding officer, blood dripping from her mouth like she was vampire.

He managed to stutter a sentence,

"Wh-What are you?"

She leaned in, smiling, pupils slightly dilated, blood on her pale skin immesurably bright.

"I am what you try to escape every time you go to war."

She looked at the man, smiling daintily, but with an unnatural amount of uneasiness,

"I am The Icy Funeral."

From his pockets, she pulled out a packet of C4 and the detonator. He only looked at her in horror.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Didn't you want me? Well, you can have this instead."

In a lightning quick action, she shoved the package into his mouth, pushing, as the package was too large for his mouth. He started to scream, the sound muffled.

"Well!? Embrace it! Do it!"

The package rammed into his mouth, breaking and bending his teeth.

She picked up Damascus, and walked away with the detonator in the man's clear view. Once she got away to about 4 metres away, far enough that his screams were muffled, she pressed down on the button, and the desert exploded, the shockwave blowing her hair in front of her.

She never looked back. --

Kinaver was on the front lines. He didn't like supporting this extremist group, but, as the old saying went,

The enemy of my enemy, is my friend

Using his hands, he smothered as many artillery explosions as he could. Eventually, they noticed this, and gathered around him, so that they were one, large group, seething towards a common enemy like ants.

But those ants died off, slowly, but surely, he could protect against artillery, but not bullets, not metal that flew faster than sound, not small little bits of pure death.

The Earth beneath his feet shook, as a cloud of flame and heat leapt up into the sky from the land like a spout. Following the natural instincts of an animal, the gunfire stopped, and they looked and stared, as a tornado of death tore through their ranks.

Valka

He stopped, and let the teeming sea of human bodies rush the enemy's location. Mustering his strength, he summoned a spark, which only grew larger and larger, until a Phoenix flew through the sky.

He dived down, twisting in the endless black sky, lighting the battlefield like a second-sun. When he landed, Hell was summoned, the gates to the Underworld had opened, and the devil started to reap souls, burning everyone around down to the bone.

Two blades swung around, dancing a soft hum of doom and death, slitting throats, impaling, deflecting, Kinaver caused death around him, completely impervious to the obvious suffering.

War was Hell, and he had come to collect.