Cratered Flamez, a world filled with turmoil and destruction. A home to tortured lives and stories still yet to be told. A place where even the brightest of fires can have the darkest of shadows.
Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
ZetaBoards
Staff

Administrators:
Ice
Vaelyis
Global Moderators:
Shadow
Newest Member:
DrewciferTheManifestDemon
Un-joined Rps:
None
Topics In Risk of Being Trashed:
None
Cratered Flamez

Cratered Flamez: a world filled with turmoil and destruction. A home to tortured lives and stories still yet to be told. A place where even the brightest of fires can have the darkest of shadows. However, we do have guidelines and rules to the board. You must read The Board Guidelines. Please stay for a visit and invite your friends.
This is a fair warning: Do not threaten any of the staff. If anything comes to an extreme or severe case, any member shall and will be banned, suspended, or removed. This is not a joke. Too many have broken this rule and it will not be tolerated anymore.

~Ice
Latest News

Board Update: Rules updated on May 5, 2011

October 23, 2011: The rules were updated. If you need help in aiding your profiles or characters, please ask one of the Administrators, Ice or Vaelyis, in assisting you.
Welcome to Cratered Flamez. We hope you enjoy your stay.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Welcome to the world of role playing where dragons, demons and other breeds come alive through writing and figurative language. Come by and give it your shot.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1
Until the End
Topic Started: January 21, 2011, 11:38 pm (756 Views)
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
"He is unstable..."
"What do you mean "unstable"?"


For years he has served with worthy appreciation and devotion, but they have only give him little back. He stepped into the quickening atmosphere with stealth and volatility, yet it was all taken out with a simple plunge of a bullet. The rage seems to grow like a virus, leaking into his body through the blood stream, hasting its pace to where the main control center lies: the heart and brain. Memories fade each day, a piece of him dying one by one as he does. Losing the only things that are close to him, which becomes a tie that cannot be undone. That trick has been played one too many times, which also evidently got his precious cargo that is bound away from him. Stripped away, cascaded like a shadow, abandoned and desolate, he can only do one thing: lie in wait. Shackles bound to his wrists, restraining him from any movement or contact. Even then, wires slithered over the surface of the floor, sucking him dry through a machine that gave him life as he sat in the darkened corner of the room. The roots in which his body lies in has withered away, like the rest of him, the dust blowing away in the wind. The mass of pitch-black hair dangling in front of his face, concealing the identity of himself away from everyone and everything. Clenched, cold, limp hands fallen upon the floor, losing all feeling for everything. There's no hope in trying to get out of his hell. Breaking free turned out to be a failure. The attempts were marked all over the room in blood with scathed marks in the metal of the floors, the sounds of screaming and scattering echoing within the room, and his mind. Ice grew over the surface of the floor and walls, gathering around his body, but not touching his flesh nor body. It avoided him, growing around him. Plumes of mists rose from his nostrils, as it was a sign of his breathing being returned. A small twitch rippled through his fingers and hand, signaling the small brink of life within his body.

"Alma what are you talking about? Alma? Tell me!"
"He is a ticking time bomb... Ready to explode."


His eyes snapped open to a blooming sanguine-red, relishing the factor of color that illuminated the satisfaction within his mind and eyes. Cocking a one-sided smile, he sat on the floor with clenched hands, his hair covering one side of his face while as his right eye bloomed with success in the lambent red. Smaller pieces of hair draped over the left side of his face, swaying swiftly from side to side as little wind swept within the barricaded room. Using the palms of his hands, he body rose slightly from the floor, regaining the simple strength he was once used to. It was all unfamiliar to him—everything was. Even the place he was abandoned in. His eyes darted all over the sides of the walls, picking up anything that would've helped him. But nothing came to mind. It was dead to him, just like himself. Removing his gaze from the walls, he rose his arms and hands in front of his face, moving his fingers as he gained back the feeling again. It has been years since he touched his fingers together, clenching and creating a fist and being able to use the access mobility of his body. Knowing his own strength and what he can perform. Nothing was new, just different. He felt different. Stronger, better, more intelligent and fit. Worthy. Like it is said: Survival of the Fittest. Nature picks out the weak and leaves with only the strong and the pure, not the weak and sick. It was not a raffle, but a gambling game you play in score with nature and death themselves. Soon enough, you lose your bet and your trade.

His body slowly went into a pacing walk, his eyes scanning around the room with perplexity and puzzlement. Coming to a stop five feet from the door, he could see a dark crimson-red symbol etched over the door and on the side of the wall. He recognized the symbol quite clearly. This wasn't no ordinary facility, it was a testing organization: Tri-Arch. An organization specializing in biological warfare and the creating of vaccines, viruses and even powerful weapons. He was their primary weapon. The shackles fell from his wrists and ankles, dissipating into the air like dust, expunged in a streaming line before it had vanished. No more withering upon the floor, like the peddles on a dark black rose, or even upon the crimson silk on the red orchid. It becomes you, just like you set yourself up for it. Before you know it, it all comes right back.

"Soon she will feel him, know that he is alive. Soon it will be too late."
"Alma, what are you talking about? Are you talking about Marcus? If you won't tell me, maybe Dexter will."
"It's too late. She is awake. You've failed. Both of you."
"What is she talking about?"
"She speaks only nonsense."
"Kill 'em."
"Mother won't be very happy with you two. In fact, Mother isn't happy. She is angry. When she cries, they all cry. As she breathes, so do they. Soon she will be here and you'll see."
"Get them both, and kill them. It's for the best."


Glimmering scales of pure, rich pitch-black cascaded a deep abyss within the room. Her head was limp between her paws, laying flat against the tarnished, black tiled floor. Black tipped talons curved over the padded paws that lay lifeless like the rest of her body. The elongated dewclaw that hung at the side of her ankle curved around the paw, barely visible due to the fact of it being tipped with a pitch-black color. The only thing that gives away the bone is the glimmering highlights running over the surface of the smooth, glossy bone, much less like the rest of her body. Her nostrils were lifeless as well: no air filling them nor being expunged through the muzzle. Dead like the rest of them, an alarming plague injected within their bodies, only to be returned with an awakening silence. Death becomes her. Her wings were spread across the surface of the floor, the ruffling membranes between the fingers of her wings swaying with little wind swiftly making its way through the room. Pinned and restrained in the middle of the room, chains and shackles grounding her body to the floor, she has no efforts into trying to escape nor even attempt to. A robust body gone to waste and yet she was already tangled in bigger ordeals. Scales casting over her body, covering merely every part of her body, building the muscle beneath the bone, which helps build her body even more. Deep indigo-blue and amethyst shadows highlight over the scales and bone, creating the beauty of a starving Titan that once walked over the ruins and lands of Nyrvyria. Blood steeped over the scales over her body, bleeding out the screams of pain that shattered from her jaws. The struggles and jerking against the endless waves of mustering pain never seemed to have ended. Up until now.

She felt him breathe, become one again. The connection and link between them had settled into a bond that sparked a unrelenting trigger between the two. An endless bond that never settled at on number or gauge. The talons sparked with life, as well as the deep trenches in her body, which bore nothing but deep pits that scanned over the scales of her body like rivers. A faint glow began to breathe within the trenches embedded in the scales, fading in and out with an orange-red glow. Her tail struck the ground with blunt force, the talons clenching into a minor fist as life created a new monster. Eyes snapping open to a liquid sanguine, the birth of a new monster was just the beginning. The tension between the muscles and bones conducted a reverse side-effect, making the feeling rather painless and growing, the adrenaline running within the single beating heart beats that thrummed in rhythm in her chest. The two second beat, prodding against the ribs to produce a reverberating sound that echoed within the room and inside her body. A soft ring rippling in waves through the air and mass. Short endless cries faded to leave herself within a prison of her own mind. She was nothing left but pure beauty and regency. Dust fell from her scales as life returned to her body, glimmering gloss of colors creating a figure over her robust body. Sets of scales plastered over the shoulders, spine, under belly, chest, tail—her entire body. Bones and joints working together to perform movement allowed her body to become mobile and movable. To be able to be suspended above others and work her way towards the gnawing jaws that seemingly blind one's view. Her gaping jaws wouldn't be the only thing they see, but also the thought of noticing the shattering screams and pain before them. She was indeed a monster, but one of pure entity. One that has been living for thousands of years and never seem to die. A prodigy as you will call her. But more over, Mother. Mother of the Syneath. The progenitor of the breed.

A thundering clash ruptured within the room, cracks flooding over the surface of the tiles as her tail and spikes met amongst the floor and air. As dust fell from the bones, scales and body as she rose from her own rude awakening, the glittering sanguine-rich eyes persuaded the envy, boiling with her rage as she became emotionless and prudent. The only vindictive and yet volatile ways never left her, and never will they. Through the creation that gave birth to her actions and voice, she only allows pain to become her voice and blood the waters that fall over her scales, steeping with nothing but a dark crimson. Bleeding the scorn that once used to be remorse and care, but now only redemption and reprisal. Baring her jaws with lust burrowed between her teeth and gums, a snarl reverberated through the moderately cracked jaws, blood stained over the used-to-be white teeth. Abyss covered scales glimmered with life, amethyst and indigo-blue highlights running over each and every individual scale, giving them their own glossy sheen. Shaking her head slightly with a short snort expunged through the nostrils, her body swayed to the side as she slid into a short simple walk towards the door that trapped her from everything. Blaring her nostrils, the sounds of air blowing through them forcefully, her eyes walked up and down the surface of the door, getting a short feeling and recognition of her surroundings. Taking a small step back, she stood still in place. Sanguine/crimson-red markings inked over her body, spreading like a virus in various, yet valuable, places on her body—chest, side flanks, wings, cheek bones/face, and neck. Outstretching her wings, the membranes breathing once more from being cluttered and settled against her flanks for so long, her wings snapped out with a violent crack, the fingers of her wings expanded like as if they were fingers themselves. Lifting her wings up and down to get used to the weight of her wings, her eyes glanced from one wing to the other, regaining that feeling once again.

Hissing through cracked jaws, her neck and head arched, her body moving back slightly to get a subtle feeling of the room and surroundings. Jerking her wings with force, she stood with her eyes wandering over the room. Crouching to the ground, she thrust her wings with pure force against her flanks, her body thundering from the floor, leaving the room as she crashed through the levels of flooring before she reached to the top of the facility. Using her claws to breach through the hole in the ceiling, she hefted her body from below, reaching past the ledge to where she could be seen and visible. Hissing with a short bare of the teeth, she stood tall and broad, towering above everything as her eyes sighted down the man of her born dreams. Her rider stood below her in wait, a cocked smile on his face. Flaring her wings as she unfurled them from her flanks, she leaped from the ledge, landing with a clashing roar of her weight meeting with the surface of the ground. It's dear to see you once again.
"It's the same for you," he replied with elegance bordering his voice.
Tell me, where do they keep them?
"Not far from here.. We need to hurry, or they won't live for long."
Don't worry, Dexter can hold his own. It's Alma I am worried about.
"So am I."
Then let's not wait and stand here, Marcus. We must leave.
"Alright." His dragon crouched to the ground, allowing him to mount upon her spine, feeling the weight rekindle once more. Rising from the ground, her body shook with monstrosity. Throwing back her head, her jaws expanded with a shattering roar rupturing through her jaws, echoing through the clouds and air for everything and every one to hear. Terminating the roar, she closed her jaws, standing upright with her wings flared and expanded to their full length. Hissing, her wings thundered with a thrusting push against her flanks, sending her body airborne above the clouds, wings pounding with force and momentum, bringing in velocity after. Tilting her body to the side, pulling in her left wing, her body swayed off to the left, going off course and flight. With a short flap of her wings in sync, she regained back the balance as she flew on the right course. Her name wasn't given nor talked about so easily. Especially in her own representation. It was wise not to seek such efforts of a mighty Titan, nonetheless to even face such a monster. Becoming more blunt in her words and personality, she became a monster not just in tune with her mind, but body as well. Narrowing her eyes, she hovered above in the air, her wings powerful and booming.

The scars marked on her muzzle and left shoulder bring out the inking pain within her body, all of what she is gives out her name in a silent, marked whisper: Synile Annibal.

Parish now, or all shall die. With my fire and breath being the screaming savage that leads the flesh burning through their corpses, their blood washed over my scales in pure release. Sanguine will be ours... And they shall bow to blood as I bring it to them themselves.
Nothing dies completely... Mother will come. She always does. And you most certainly have made Mother mad. All of you have.


If you cannot read it, tell me and I can change the font and size for you.
Edited by Vaelyis, January 28, 2011, 11:52 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
Storm was pinned on the floor, his hands being held behind his back by the two guards who had him down. He struggled against them, his eyes a bright crimson and his fangs ready to bite anyone who dared come close enough to his mouth. He growled and he managed to twist his hand so he could grab one of the guard's arms and dig his claws into it, breaking the bone once he reached it. The guard screamed. Storm felt him try to jerk his arm away, but then he felt the other guard grab him hand and yank his claws out so the first guard could keep holding him down. "Hurry up!" The wounded guard screamed. "He broke my fucking arm and it's starting to burn! What if he let his venom inside the wound?!" Panic was making him raise his voice, now.
The other guard smacked him. "Relax, Chris!"
The smiled and an evil playfulness entered his eyes. "It won't take long to set in and your body will begin to die off. Slowly."
The wounded guard stiffened, Storm could feel it, and he smiled at the fear that was coming off of him.
He then shut his eyes tightly in pain as he felt a knife enter his side. The second guard hissed at him. "Shut up, demon!" He then spoke to his friend, his voice becomng soothing, meant to calm. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you're ok and you don't die as soon as we have him under control, ok?"
The wounded man nodded, but Storm could still feel his fear.
A third guard came rushing in, a syringe in his hand. Storm hissed when he saw it and went to bite when his arm went right by his mouth, but the guard injected him first, driving it into his neck. Storm's vision immediately began to dim and his body began to relax as the strain for bloodlust left it, showing in his eyes as they gently went back to blood-red.
The third guard knelt down in front of him and looked him in the eyes. "How do you feel?" He asked.
Storm hissed at him as soon as he regained himself. "I feel like you all failed! Again!"
The second guard twisted the knife that was still inside Storm and Storm winced in pain.
The third one knocked the second one's hand away, gently pulling the knife out. "Stop it! Where is your respect to another being?!"
The second one's eyes showed his anger. "This is no being! IT'S a disgrace that shouldn't exist!"
The third one sighed and just let it go.
Chris was shaking from his fear now and Storm rolled his eyes in annoyance at his fear. "Oh, give it a break! I wouldn't waste my venom on you, anyway!"
Those yelled words brought so much comfort the wounded one sighed loudly in his releif.
The third one stood. "Get off of him. I'll take him back, now. You take Chris to get that taken care of."
The other 2 guards got up and left, letting Storm get up by himself with his new wound.
He got up and held his bleeding side. The third guard came up beside him and made Storm put his arm around his neck so he oculd help him take the strain off his side. "I apologize for his actions."
"Don't lie, I know what I am here."
"You are more than a test subject."
Storm gave him a cold hard stare. "Prove it."
The third guard could find nothing and he led Storm back to his cell in silence.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
You know how it works and you know the consequences, child. You cannot undermine such an advantage you have. Not even the viruses can help you. It's reckless and insubordinate. Even you should be able to understand that. Move on, Marcus. There's nothing here that you can lose. This I know and this I can understand.
"You're a dragon, what do you understand?"
Don't tempt me to do anything beyond hostile, boy.
"You're seriously sinking that low?"
You have no idea. At all.
"Trust me, Synile. I know you better than your parents."
If I had any, she snapped back.
"If you had any? I thought you did?" Marcus barked back with puzzlement bordering his voice.
I created Nyrvyria. I am the Mother of the Syneath. I cannot be a God to them if I was born from another source of pro-creator. What would that make of me? Think about it, Marcus. I cannot be the progenitor of the race if I was born from a set just like me. It's inevitable and uncanny for such theory to ever work. Science has even proved such apathy and fundamentals wrong. You never learn, do you?
"Sorry if I cannot think as logical as you can."
You were born around the same era as me, but reincarnated. How does that even make possible sense in the factors of what you're saying?
"You're the one who's not making any sense," he muttered back silently.
Like I didn't hear that... Synile growled in a short, snapping response. Evidently, Marcus ignored her. Simple devotion towards the two, they surly show it.

Short pounds from her wings filled in with air allowing her body to stay aloft above the clouds and away from what's below. Her eyes scanned with keen relevance, which is also brought to the efforts of evolution that gave her sight the ability to magnify in different areas—more over zoom in and zoom out. Front and back paws settled against her chest and tail, it made gliding easy and simple. Two beats forwarded her body, distances closing in and seemingly effortless. Pinning her wings shortly against her flanks, her body titled into a small dive, the wings slowly pulling back out with beating rhythm, her body began to dwindle further through the clouds. Marcus held onto her neck, feeling the muscles between her neck and shoulders strain and bundle, giving the robust body she obtained years of work and compatibility. Unfurling her wings, she released a short breeze of air before her body bounced back into leveled flight. With only two short pounds from her wings, her body became instantaneous, hurling towards the ground with riveting aspects and momentum; before even velocity could kick in, gravity took its place, pulling her body closer and closer towards the dust-smeared ground. Marcus' eyes widened, growing bigger as Synile pushed herself, closing in near the ground. "What are you doing?" But there was only silence. A short hiss escaped her jaws as she jerked her head away from Marcus' pleading hands in which attempted to grab a hold on her horns and cheek. Restraining that all away, she made him feel as if he was being used for her own attempts, but that is what she wanted him to think. Pulling her body out from the teetering dive, her wings flared open with a restraint being subdued upon the membranes, allowing her body to jerk from flight, keeping herself leveled and aloft. Marcus nearly slipped from her spine as her body jerked back into her leveled flight, regaining everything back.

Looking back over at Marcus, a smile bled over her face, peeling around the corners to give that devoted, warm smile. Marcus shook his head, cocking his own smile, patting the side of her neck and face as he understood well and clear. "Sometimes when you play those games, you really tend to scare me."
That is the point, my boy. Chuckling after, Synile pounded her wings once with a short thrust of the wings, wrenching her body to the right, her tail acting as a propel in direction and weight. Rendering her weight and balance, her wings clasped and clutched against her flanks, her weight and body dropping before them. Marcus held onto her neck, fearing that this wasn't going to end well. He felt something odd and sustained within her, knowing that this wasn't all fun and games for long. Spiraling in a 360 degree motion, her wings slightly prodded from her flanks, giving a slight advantage and drift to her body and weight, as well as to function towards momentum and velocity. Increasing her speed, Synile released a short burning flame from her maw, a torrent of flame being emitted through expanded jaws, a roaring blaze scorching the surface of the ground before she pulled from the dive, her tail hammering against the ground with blunt force, dust rising into the air through close contact. Pounding her wings once more to gain back the elevation in the sky, she tore through the wind like a searing arrow, plunging through the clouds and sky like it was merely nothing. This was the test drive, knowing that everything seemingly stopped at only giggles and haughty explanations.

Leveled above the waters, trees and mountain tops below them, Synile held her grounds as her eyes scanned below, watching as the filtering sky bloomed with blue lit colors and cream-white cumulus clouds. Striking her wings, Marcus used his legs and hands to turn her body to the left, feeling the wind press against his body. "It's go time, it's go time." Synile looked back with a short simple, feeling as Marcus pushed against her shoulders and neck. Her wings tipped to the sides, tilting to a short dive before her wings slowly pulled out once more. Flapping them shortly, she drifted to the side, leaning on the left as the tips of her wings glided over the surface of the water. Returning back to her leveled weight, her wings back lashed, allowing herself to climb into higher elevations. Before that, Marcus felt his body lift off her shoulders as she restricted all access to where they needed to go. Letting go of her neck, Synile felt the weight leave her spine and shoulders. Expanding her jaws as a shriek ruptured from her jaws, she wrenched her body to the side, delving after him as he free fell through the air. Thrusting her wings against her flanks, she descending after Marcus with the hopes of being able to catch him in her claws. Watching as his body and face was towards the water, he couldn't bare to look. With two swipes of her wings, Synile's body was just right below Marcus' body. Flaring in the air, he felt the short tension break. Synile hissed as she pulled up and grabbed his body, flaring out her wings with a booming crack sounding from the wind breaking against the membranes of her wings. Delving through a short cave, her body swayed from side to side, wings pinned against her flanks as she moved swiftly and stealthy through the caverns below the ridge. Breaking her wings with a short back wing, her body was thrown above a ledge, bringing back her speed and velocity that was attained as she caught Marcus from his free fall. Twisting her body from side to side, she allowed the swift movement to become his own, feeling the wind and muscles tense, giving her body the ability to move with simplicity and style.

Banking her wings, Synile tore through the exit of the cavern, making her way above ground and back into the sky. Tilting to another dive to her left, her body curved to a half shaped C before launching her body towards the tipped reefs and breaking waters. Flaring her wings back out from her body and a short twist, she leveled slightly, feeling Marcus' weight upon her shoulders and spine. Marcus smiled, throwing back his hands, yelling with happiness and surprise. I knew you were in for it! Synile chuckled in response to his motion.
"Yeah, you had it coming."
None taken. Pulling her body above the crashing waters, she swiftly moved between pillars and rocks, slowly making their way towards the forestry and woods. Breaking her wings to a jerking back wing, her body jerked to where she could land upon the edge of a cliff, her talons meeting with the cold, hard rock. Settling her weight evenly, Marcus dismounted from his dragon, his eyes scanning the area. Shrugging it all off, he turned on a heel, his eyes rising to meet with his dragon's.
"You think it's safe here?"
We never know. No where is safe in this world.
"True. Unless your home..."
All is nothing but love in war. Nodding his head in agreement, Marcus could only believe that is it true. Walking towards a thick, round boulder, Marcus sat on the ground with his back pressed against the surface of the rock, shifting his body to where Synile could fit herself in between him and the boulder. Getting back up, Marcus gathered some wood for a fire, which turned out to be a success for him. Managing them into a sort of temple-like formation, he stepped back and looked at Synile for a brief moment, motion towards the lining of wood. Synile rose her head from the ground, taking notice of his rigid signals. Like I didn't know? she snorted. Arching back her neck, a torrent of flame expunged from her jaws, spreading over the wood with sparked and ignited a flame over the wood, bringing a flickering rhythm to the flame. Terminating the fire, she closed her jaws and waited for Marcus to settle his body against her side stomach. Watching him carefully as his tired, slow moving body made way towards hers, she watched as he plopped on the ground, his head slowly resting upon her stomach. Instant expanding and collapsing motion signaled as she was merely breathing, but also watching his head move as her stomach did. A smile bloomed on her face before she rested her head on the ground between her paws, her eyes pinned only on him and him alone, her keen senses tipped and alarmed if anything tried to come near or dare to draw close. Closing her eyes, she listened in, not taking any risks or chances in this place. Her tail closed in around them, wings settling above Marcus' body, holding him close as he could remember like his mother, Razen, had done... And his brother, James. Don't worry, you'll have them back... I know you will, sweetheart. I am here. I always am.

For only this was just the beginning...
Edited by Vaelyis, January 28, 2011, 11:52 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
(sorry mine r being so short i cant reply rly long posts while im in school ><)
Storm growled as he made it to his bed and collapsed on it, glaring at his bleeding side as if it the force of his gaze could heal it.
The third guard knelt in front of him and lifted his shirt, having the cloth bandage in his hand that he was going to wrap around it. Storm hissed, but propped himself up with his hands and let the guard tie it around him. Thoughtfulness entered his eyes. "Hey, Cody?"
"Hm?" The guard answered without looking up.
"Why?"
"Why what?" He asked with patience, so used to how Storm acted that really nothing he did affected him anymore.
"Why do you try to bond with me? And try to hold me equal with yourself?"
"In my eyes, you are equal with me, if not higher because of your power. Plus, what would be the point of trying to scare you when it won't work and you wouldn't cooperate with our operation?"
Storm gave a hard laugh. "At least you're honest."
Cody sighed and looked up at him. "You're different from the others here. They have either gone too insane to cooperate or too broken to care. And you need someone on your side, I can tell by how you act you'd like some kind of comrade." He expected the glare he got and just went back to his work.
Storm let his breath hiss out from between his teeth and kept his gaze on Cody.
"I'm not going to trust you, I'd be an idiot if I did that."
Cody smirked. "Yes, but I'm not asking to be that close. Just close enough for you to feel a little more comfortable while you're being held in this facility."
A cold smile spread across Storm's face and his eyes showed he held a bad thought in his mind, but he held his tongue and Cody felt a slight sliver of fear but said nothing as he left, closing the cell door behind him.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
(It's alright, I can understand. I hardly can get things done and when I do I fall short. No need to post long replies, even though I am used to normally having a 6-10 paragraph reply, but I don't see those no more. Only short 1-2 paragraphs, maybe even shorter. Ah, doesn't matter. Whatever makes it easier for you ^^ It's all okay with me.)


The fire licked the air, snaking away as the wind dipped low amongst the two, night falling above and below them. Silence had befallen within the trees and forest while as the water broke against the walls of the reef below. A storm was nearing for Synile could smell rain through the tips of her nostrils. She hadn't slept in weeks. Mainly due to Marcus and his dreams and merely the history that has been going on around him. Nearly losing everyone, she is all that he has left. It isn't unimaginable to realize the horrors going through the child, nonetheless the ability of not being able to see his own mother or brother. His father on the the other hand, Adam—he hasn't seen him since he was at least seven or six. Razen was always around, as well as James and Sangyne. But now, it's nothing but him and Synile and his son, Dexter. But where Dexter is, he surly doesn't know. The thoughts of being a bad father rampaged his mind and, of course, Synile knew. All too well. She could see the dreams and thoughts as if it were her own. Jerking in his sleep, talking as if it were real, she understood well enough to not allow such habits to die hard, but to go away. For good. She knew what started this all and how it had happened; she was there and remembered it all like it was yesterday. It was mere torture for the boy, especially seeing as he lost his own child whom might be dead by now. A loss like that would shatter him into pieces. Creating an unstable monster tied between two trees, looking for a way to snap. Sadly, that's only on a brink of happening. It's only a matter of time before he breaks and cracks, surging it all on whoever comes near. Maybe even on her. It's all just a matter of time and it's ticking slowly. Tick, tick, tick—that's the sound of your life running out.

Flicking her tail over the surface of the ground, her eyes were pinned on Marcus, feeling his heart beat sinking low, but balanced in its beat and rhythm. Holding him close with her tail as it wrapped around both of their bodies, she rolled up her wings from the ground to her side flanks, feeling the fresh breath of air trailing up through her nostrils, giving them a cold breeze and touch. Closing her eyes for a mere second, they snapped open to a boiling, lambent sanguine-red, which bled with orbs that seemingly touched her eyes with a sizzling rage that never seemed to have left her eyes within the barrows of the blood-rich pools. Baring her teeth, she knew what she was getting herself into. And it wasn't fatal nor a disaster, only for him, Marcus, it was. It tore him apart, even then for her when she saw the pain running through him like surging tidal waves. It was all just a mess he couldn't refuse, or even let go. Don't let go, Marcus. Not yet and not so soon... I am counting on you. Her faint whispering voice echoed within his conscience, giving him the reassurance that she was there. She would never leave him. Not even in the time of need. Lashing out with her tail, it awoke Marcus from his sleep, startling him once again. Looking up at Synile with wide eyes as he watched the burrowing anger grow, he could see the senseless monster burning into her flesh, inking the scorn over her rich black scales. Tainted globules and streams of vermilion and crimson ran over her scales, tinting them with rather a glossy look. Baring her teeth, her wings pulled back in a threatening position, she held her grounds against all odds. Removing her left wing from her spine as it was clutched tight against the edge of the spine, she held it above Marcus, protecting him from whatever could be out there. She wasn't seeing ghosts nor thinking of it. Marcus watched as her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of a nearby creature or predator. It wasn't too enthusing watching his dragon prick up like a cat with its hair standing on end. Only, she was more volatile and vindictive than the normal dragon you'd come by. Syneath were always more intimidating with their colors and sanctions, whether it was how they presented them or how they stood out. Either way, a Syneath was overall threatening, volatile, malicious and filled with nothing but sanguine and malice burning in their eyes. However, not all Syneath function in the same threat or way. Synile was merely a virus of her own mind, plaguing it with the senseless acts that the monster wanted her to evoke. It was time now that she could snap and break, just like her rider.

Soon enough, the creature threw itself out from the brush of the woods, leaving its sanctuary to reveal itself to the two. Her talons sank into the ground, her jaws bared with blood tinged within the gums, dripping down the lower gums and jaw, dripping in globules on the ground. Marcus stepped back, leaning against Synile with his hand, his eyes widening. Synile cracked her jaws open, jerking her body with a short hiss leaving the cracked teeth. She stood intimidatingly on her front paws while as she sat on her hind, keeping her position secure and stable. Her tail swung to the side, a ripple effect running down from the base to the very tip, a short whiplash-like crack bordering as her tail struck the air with force. Pulling her body onto all fours, she towered above the creature, the robust body of hers enticing and rather struck with fear. The creature rather did not impose nor push, but neither did it run away. The creature wasn't surly clear to see, but Marcus knew that Synile evidently knew what she was seeing. She wouldn't be so fierce and hostile if she hadn't. Flaring her wings, she took a small step back, angling herself with the creature that stood before them. Show yourself! she snarled towards the creature, lowering her head as she watched the creature come closer from the shadows. It wasn't no creature, but yet a dragon. That only enraged her more and Marcus couldn't stand to see anymore of it. She fought vigorously and with stealth, however, she could also arrange it to be deadly and fatal if she so shall will. Using her muzzle, she pushed Marcus back, jerking her head to the side to indicate him to go away and hide. Marcus shook his head at first, but then he saw the snarling glare in her eyes. It wasn't something to test about, even on her ways. Removing her glance from Marcus, she attuned to the dragon. It wasn't a Acolyte, Asphyxian, Syrask, Aryan or even a Sanguyne. It was her own breed: Syneath. And a familiar one.
Genevieve Aristide.

It was rather a surprise to see her, especially a sister of a cause. Isn't this nice, she spoke softly with a mix of sarcasm touching her voice. One big family reunion.
You're missing a few.
Avvenine couldn't make it. But I am sure Azerveyne could, or do you not want that? What of Amoxacillan?
I would rather leave it between us that to have them show up here.
Yes, wouldn't want your daughter doing us a favor again.
That was a mistake, and you know that.
Too bad. Sorry it didn't last long, I was hoping it did.
Hold your tongue, Aristide. Or I will rip it out from your throat.
Threats, threats, threats, Synile. Are you normally this hostile with others or is it just me?
Aristide taunted, a smile blooming over the corners of her face. Synile hissed, baring her teeth in reply towards Aristide, which didn't make her all too happy about that. Closing her jaws as a short hiss slipped through, Synile had no need in being gentle with the argument and with Aristide. She already experienced the history of when she tried taking Marcus away from him and that didn't end well. Rellik and Ghost had in infiltrate and get them for her, which wasn't suitable for her taste. Aristide remember fairly well and she was the cause to everything that is happening, as well as Amoxacillan. Of course she was, above all, going along with all of this. Synile snarled, baring her teeth in return as she stood between Aristide and Marcus, using her tail as a sheer sign of threat, which wasn't much of a conductor for Aristide to notice so seldomly well. Standing her grounds between herself and Aristide, Synile knew what she was after... Ditching her eyes from Aristide, she snapped a glance at Marcus. Run! Now! Get away from here. Aristide snarled, shooting a glaring stare at Marcus. Marcus bolted from his position, skating down a short ramp that lead further down the cliff side. Aristide jerked, leaping towards Marcus, but Synile evaded her path, tackling her to the ground. He is mine! Not yours.
I beg to differ.
Snapping her jaws in front of Aristide's face, Synile held her down, pinned to the ground. She did as much as she could to allow Marcus to escape as far as he could, hoping that he could just get far enough. Run faster, boy. I don't need her to get her claws on you.
I am going as fast as I can,
Marcus replied with haste and tiredness in his voice.
Don't stop. Never stop. Just keep going.
Alright. Looking back down at Aristide, she watched as the rage burrowed further within her eyes... It was mutiny.
You've had this coming for years. Aristide growled grimly.

As Marcus ran, the last thing he heard was a screaming shriek echoing through the air and clouds.. He knew that scream all to well. That's when the pain hit, hard. Collapsing, his conscience ran black. Then nothingness...
Edited by Vaelyis, January 28, 2011, 11:52 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
Storm began to laugh as if he had gone insane as soon as Cody left. He had began to get too attached to Cody and he knew that. He also knew he had been very curious lately. He had learned that, if done properly, his venom could be used for one of the strongest nuclear bombs in the entire world. He had overheard some of the researchers and sceintists discussing it earlier today before the incident.
He thought back to all the chemicals they had tried to test it with and noted which explosions had been bigger. He smiled, loving his memory as he could remember most all of the names of the chemicals they had used, and all of the ones he would now be after. All he had to do was steal what he needed and this whole place would be burned to the ground.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
Collapsing to his knees, his hands used as a leverage to sustain his body upright and above from the dirt that humbled before him. Panting, trying to grasp the short breaths of air, prodding pain increased in strains down his spine and body. He couldn't fight this no longer, not even for a mere second. Synile was dying on the inside of him, leaving a short strain of the bond they held together for so many years. Closing his eyes, panting with a faint hoarse sound bordering his breathing. Clenching his teeth, Marcus had nothing else to say nor do. Just to escape. Her words only filtered through his head, burrowed in deep like a needle within the flesh. Don't stop. Never stop. Just keep going. Shaking his head, he couldn't let go. Couldn't let her go. Those words never left his conscience, haunting him as he ran for safety as she ordered him to. There wasn't anything he could but follow her demand. She was only doing her best to keep him safe and away from Death's icy claws. Grasping his heart, he felt as if a blade had been pierced right through his chest. Opening his eyes, he watched as blood fell in thick globules of blood dripped upon the surface of the ground. A solid metal blade had met his heart, running straight through his back and chest, one easy slide through the flesh and bone. It was as if time had slowed down, coming to a stop to allow this event to be taken harshly and with malice. His mouth held open wide as the pain lanced through his body, he was put into shock as the blade was evenly glowing with a bright crimson sheen steeped over the metal blade. His right hand clasped over the blade, trying in his best to break it from his chest, but to no avail in his efforts. In his ear he heard a faint chuckle behind him, the satisfaction given from this man as he struck him through the back and in the heart. Closing his eyes for a mere second, it was as if his life slipped by, seeing it before him. Everything disappearing before his eyes. Blood dripped in sequence one by one as it cluttered at the tip of the blade, running down the dent in the middle in streams. The blood forged itself near the wound, harvesting itself before it ran down the metal blade of the sword. His body jerked as the sword was torn from his body, leaving Marcus collapsing completely towards the ground, his face meeting dirt. "You're not so smart. I thought you would be smarter for someone like you," the voice spoke in a taunting motion. Marcus recognized that voice, it was vaguely familiar. A childhood memory fading in, the twisted recalls of what he could possibly remember.


They both sat there, untouched and unphased as they began running around in the room, Marcus being tackled by his twin brother. Their mother, Razen, momentarily confused them between each other seeing as they looked so much alike. The only thing that separated them from one another was the hair and scars: Marcus had a scar over his eye with black hair, parted on the right, while as Hannibal had no scars visible on his body and had dark chocolate-brown hair, parted on the left. It wasn't hard to mix them up, but it wasn't easy to remember which was which. Marcus tackled Hannibal to the ground, shoving his fist into his head, twisting it from side to side. Hannibal could only release himself with simple hysteria, kicking and screaming as his brother tortured him with his ticklish spots, which Marcus knew all too well. Even then, Hannibal would get him back by doing the same. Marcus was an odd child when it came to tickling for he was too hard to do so. You had to get your hand right into his ribs just to make him bust out into laughter. Hannibal knew how to do it. Razen, Adam and James all had a hard time then, but James soon enough caught on and found out where to hit. Razen and Adam had always been dumbfounded about it and soon gave up. Hannibal pinned Marcus on the floor, continuing his little revenge against his brother as he gave him a tickle-attack. The only thing he couldn't remember hearing was Marcus telling him to stop for he couldn't breathe. His ribs had caved in from the massive pressure being enforced upon his body from Hannibal. Grasping at his chest and throat, Marcus tried in his best to indicate that he couldn't breathe, but Hannibal kept right at what he was doing.

Minutes later, Razen ran to Marcus' aid, taking Hannibal off his chest, setting him on the floor, yelling at Hannibal. Hannibal hadn't known what he did wrong or why he was being screamed at.
"What have you done?" Razen screamed at him, narrowing her eyes with pure concern and rivalry. Adam was right at her side, his hand draped over her shoulder in comfort as they tried to give Marcus some air into his chest cavity and lungs. Hannibal watched in horror as Marcus was having difficulty breathing or even grasping a simple breath of air. Seconds slowed down, the scene unfolding before him. Hannibal watched with difficulty understand the situation, unable to interpret the horror before him. He had watched Adam leave from Razen's side to go start the truck outside for Marcus' aid to the hospital. Razen took Marcus into her arms, cradling him as best as she could to allow his lungs to grasp some air as she carried him out to the truck. Adam had helped Razen and Marcus into the back seat, cradling his head in his arms as she hopped into the seat. Hannibal sat there in fear, frightened for his life that he might've killed his twin brother. Eyes darting, he sank back into the house near the dark corner where light hardly ever struck. Pulling his legs against his chest, closing his eyes as he heard the truck leave from the drive way, he sat there, fear driving him to where he lies in wait now. Where the monster has broken out of its chains and controlling every aspect of himself and what he used to be.

Years passed and Hannibal was always a handle. Getting into trouble, snapping at his parents, almost killing Marcus, storming out of the house, setting things on fire, killing animals (which could soon escalate into people), and locking himself away from others, secluding from society and people. Becoming anti-social with anger problems. There was no help for him, just the monster that spoke into his conscience, telling him what to do and how to spend his worthy time preparing for the big event. Razen and Adam became worried for their child, but their concern and despondence wasn't enough for poor Hannibal. No, it only enraged the monster even more, creating a creature beyond creation. Beyond control. Unstable, volatile, insubordinate, vindictive, and malevolent—Hannibal was more than just a monster, but a reconstruction of a new species, let alone being something that Marcus hasn't seen in years. Hannibal was the knew him, a monster given with priorities and abstract violations of a new generation of "species" and evolution. Even then, this never struck Marcus as being new. Marcus always knew that something was going to happen to Hannibal, but not this soon or anything like this. Evidently, Hannibal knew Marcus was stronger and more volatile than what he was and will become in the near future. Which is why he is set in pursuit to take out the problem he faces: Marcus and his dragon, Synile. They're intervening with everything he has set in place, but to take out the problem, you must execute it. Perfectly. And with precision. To cut the head off the snake. To terminate it. Hannibal was just beginning this all. As a matter of fact, it was already set in motion. Marcus just had to put it into place...
Which was soon.



Then it hit him: Hannibal. Of course he knew that voice and that faint chuckle. It was all clear to him. Hissing in his own tone, Marcus flipped over on his spine, his eyes meeting with the course sleek gloss of a bright crimson-red. Marcus saw the blind-sighted killer draped in black, killing what was on the inside. The monster, of course, had everything it needed and wanted: control. Marcus understood the monster and this... dark passenger. It devoured him and soon enough, wanted more control and blood, so it made him hungry for more. Craved it, wanted it, needed it, and relished it. It wasn't the same for the both of them for Marcus knew how to control it, but not when it was wasted away and used for the wrong decisions. Synile had warned him plenty of times, but did he listen? Not at all. How Hannibal got here was still a puzzle to him. Aristide wouldn't accept anyone but him, no one else. She killed anyone who wasn't superior or affiliated with her power. But, Hannibal and Aristide are one in the same: they needed to execute a problem, which was him and Synile. Where as, that brings Hannibal into the situation. Marcus cocked a one-sided smile, watching as Hannibal drew himself closer into Marcus' view. "Hello, brother. Miss me?"
"I was wondering when I would see you again."
"How sweet, I was wondering when I could see you as well."
"Is that how you felt after I killed you? Remember?"
"I remember it perfectly, twin. But the tables have turned. You've had this coming for a long time now, Marcus."
"I was wondering when you were going to say that," he taunted him with a hint of mockery in his voice, his smile blooming evermore bigger. He watched as the rage grew in Hannibal's face, no satisfaction left within his expression. Marcus hissed, kicking Hannibal off his feet, watching him collapse to the ground. Lifting his body with his hands and sides, he got off the ground and onto both his feet. Hannibal snarled between his clenched teeth, eyes narrowed on his brother.
"Don't you ever die?"
"That's a little hard to do, kiddo."
"Don't call me that!" Hannibal snapped towards Marcus. "You know I hate being called that. I am only an hour older than you."
"James is older than both of us, so nothing to be proud of when it comes to being the oldest. You're still young, kiddo." Marcus smiled as he watched the rage burrow and bloom in Hannibal, advancing like a plague through his face and body. But it didn't stop there. Marcus knew where to hit his brother hard, he just had to stall more time. He needed Synile, but she was no help for him. She was too busy with an ordeal of her own: Aristide.
"You're dragon can't help you, so don't waste your time trying to call for help. Besides, she's in a fix herself."
"Oh, so you're the one helping Aristide? I knew an idiot like you would be the one to do such a pathetic act. Hell, I would've figured less from you seeing as you'd sink that low. Right? Kiddo!"
"Stop calling me that!" Hannibal screamed at Marcus, his eyes flaring a bright crimson, blaring the articulate orbs that bloomed within the pooling abyss in his eyes.
"Let's dance!" Marcus intrigued himself, smiling as he watched Hannibal grow more and more hostile, which was an advantage for Marcus for he knew Hannibal couldn't fight to save his life when he is in such a stage. He is weak and had little to no balance or accuracy. Marcus on the other hand, he knew how to balance and use precision. "This is gonna be fun!"


Snapping jaws, jerking bodies, tumbling bodies of scales—it was a mixture between a bloody battle and a feud that never seemed to have to end with a rivalry of sisters. Synile wrenched her paw at Aristide's face, blurring her vision for mere seconds before feeling her body crash against the hard rock, her head hammering with blunt force against the surface. Standing with bared teeth, tail lashing from side to side, her pose threatening and stiff, Synile held her grounds against the rival sister, Aristide. You can do better, Aristide. Where's that other half of yours? Where did Genevieve go? Or is she dead like the rest of you?
She is locked away, hidden from everything; she doesn't need to be here right now or ever. What are you talking about Synile? Or should I say Synile Annibal? Where did she go?
Right here!
Synile snarled, gaping jaws secluding her view as the jagged sharp teeth blurred her vision with nothingness. Synile sank her teeth into Aristide's neck, dragging her body towards the ground with a hurling thud as her body met against the ground and dirt, dust flying into the air as their bodies were dragged over the dirt and scattered rock. Clamping her jaws, locked tight, she held a firm grip around her neck, closing off her air ways, unable to grasp the simple drifts of air into her system. Aristide screamed, scratching her claws against Synile's flanks and shoulders, unable to break sense into her. Synile smiled through locked jaws, bleeding her satisfaction and malice ways, becoming the monster she was born into. Violently shaking her head from side to side, she threw Aristide's body across the ground, watching slowly as he body lay limp amongst the dirt and grime. Throwing back her wings, Synile launched her body into the air, heeding her way towards Marcus as he solicited Hannibal as much as he could. Delving through the air, she unfurled her wings and snapped them open, breaking her body in the air before crashing in between Marcus and Hannibal. His eyes widened as his body staggered and fell to the ground, fear growing in his eyes.
You think this is a funny game? Boy, you have no idea what death is like, do you? You have no idea who you are messing with. You don't know what pain is until I show you. Cracking her jaws open, she felt a budge as Marcus wrapped his arms around her muzzle, clasping them shut before the harvested flame could come to a boil and expunge through gaping jaws. Hannibal narrowed his eyes, pushing his body back with his feet, his trust level falling low.
"What are you doing? Let her do it!"
"That's not going to solve anything. Now get on your feet."
Marcus, what are you doing? He's a traitor. He is a wounded animal that needs to die. So kill him!
"No, Synile. You've done enough."
You don't know what you're doing.
"Neither do you. So shut your trap."
Don't say I didn't warn you. Prying his hands away from her muzzle, Synile shook her head with a short hiss and snarl bordering within her cracked jaws, her eyes leaving Marcus and pinned on Hannibal. Better make this quick, or I will.
"Synile," Marcus hissed. Synile bared her teeth in return, her eyes snapping from Hannibal to him.
Don't push it. Your limits are fairly low.
"I can understand that."
Good. Her head rose above them, her body broad and expanded with rage, wings pinned against her flanks as she still held a threatening pose against Hannibal. She didn't trust him, nor found this "plan" of Marcus' going out to well. Listening in, Synile shook her head, knowing that something as bound to go wrong. Baring her teeth, she snapped. Cracking and breaking on the inside, the turmoil coming to a boil. Marcus jerked, watching as Synile began to break, which is what Hannibal wanted. Chuckling, which slowly formed into a laugh, Marcus wrenched a glance to Hannibal, narrowed eyes pinned on him, a short hiss leaving his lips.
"You knew this would happen."
"Have fun!" Marcus hissed, leaping forward, but he was tackled and pinned by a set of claws as Aristide came hurling from above, her body collapsing above his, holding him prisoner on the ground.
I don't think so. Marcus looked over to Synile with pleading eyes, but the monster on the inside was growing, becoming more unstable and hazardous.
"What have you done?"
"Just wait and see. You're just ready for the fireworks." Throwing his hands up, the words spoke it all. "BOOM! HAHA!"
"You're insane."
"And you're crazy. Thank you for the late diagnostics. I already knew that I was insane, twin."
"I knew I was a sociopath and psychotic, big deal. Leave her be."
"It's already too late for that. Even for you. Keep him there, Aristide. I have a feeling that his is going to be even better."
No worries, I know it is. Watching Synile snap broke him on the inside, especially knowing that Synile wasn't going to win against what was eating her alive on the inside.
Synile... Please.

But all was lost... He lost her. For good.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
He waited for them to take him back to the testing rooms and let them take some of his venom again. As he walked out, he took some of the chemicals that his venom worked well with and stuck them in his pocket.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
He felt the claws push down harder over his chest, limiting his breath. The monster breaking inside of her only screamed the words, "Get out!". Aristide leaned over him, enforcing more weight through her talons and paw, hearing a faint crack sounding beneath Marcus' chest. Wrapping his arms around her paws, he could no longer scream for help nor plead with a sheer cry. Where was James when you needed him? That's right, he was gone. For good this time. Him and Sangyne. Squirming in place, there was no other option but to lie there in wait, using his eyes as his own signal towards Synile as a bastion for her own prodding pain. Then again, his pain only drove the monster more into a furious boil, entangled with a turmoil ready to rupture into a massive explosion. Aristide hissed, cracking her jaws open in front of his face, mists pooling from her maw like the fumes from dry ice trapped within a freezer. Marcus narrowed his eyes on Aristide, but something caught his attention: Synile. Stalking closer with bared teeth, he watched as her flesh began to strip away. Removing her paw, Aristide coarsely moved to the side, Synile's eyes blaring and tinged with nothing but rage and reprisal. It was a monster he's never seen before in years. Getting to his feet, he staggered back down to the ground, holding the flesh wound that was abruptly given to him by the faded shadow of his brother. The blood stained his shirt and hand, streaming out from his chest like a streaming river. Wincing in pain, Marcus saw the smile bloom upon Hannibal's face as the staring red eyes were pinned on him, the blurring shadow fairly condescending and taunting. Hannibal was impressed, yes, but also satisfied in his own retribution and short revenge. Behind the festering movements between Aristide and Synile, Marcus could only see the cascading figure of his brother peering at him, the narrowed, crooked smile focused mainly on Marcus and his pain levels, which seems to be rising at every second. And Synile was more attuned on killing Aristide than helping him at all. The skeletal structure that is inking through her flesh shows it all.

Flesh stripping away like sheets of paper, burning as if fire had scorched her flesh away, searing the muscles and tissue. Crouched in a more threatening pose, she crept her way closer to Aristide, watching as the fear began to blossom in her eyes and expression, which never made Synile evermore enthused and satisfied, much like lust was relished into the moment. Her talons sank into the ground, clicking as the bone met with a sheet of rock below the sand and dirt. Baring her teeth, Synile came to a halt in her steps, watching as the skeletal structure beneath the flesh and scale was recovered and no longer hidden through concealment. Fear was a master at surprise and she knew how to wield it well like a sword, of course, Marcus was the expert and swordsmanship. Narrowing her eyes with luster growing within the sanguine-red eyes that pooled like blood, she watched as the bones stripped away her flesh, revealing a dark black skeletal system underneath all the flesh and scale. The bone bled through, replacing her old flesh with the new. A new image and a whole new other Synile. But this version is Synile Annibal. Synile was just the gentle side, Synile Annibal is rather a more... dominant version of what Synile perceives herself to be from the countless others who try to bring her to her knees. Which won't work in the dismissal of rather incompetent values that never persists to stop. Marcus watched with awe as the rude awakening swallowed and devoured her whole, completing the next stage, but not the final. Her finale was going to end with a Boom! and a big bang. Ruffling her wings, she snapped them open as her eyes flickered with pure lust and breathing color. Aristide stepped back in return, following her own selfish orders as she watched the Mother of the Syneath reveal the true nature and image she has held back for so many years—since the creation of Nyrvyria and the Syneath. And she could date back that long.

Throwing back her head, Synile bulked on her hind legs, her wings unfurled and outstretched to their full length. Jerking in place, Marcus slumped back, pushing his body with his feet, scooting over the surface of the ground to get as far away as possible. Aristide bared her teeth with a returned growl, her jaws expanded as she roared against Synile's reprisal and feud with the monster breaking on the inside, coming forth with a sheer wrath that didn't end there. It was a war between two Titans, even then, two sisters. Side stepping around Aristide, she knew what Synile was up to, but not close enough to where on what Synile was thinking about. They may share somewhat of the same breed DNA, but their minds think differently, not in tune. Settling her wings against her flanks, Synile stopped near Aristide's left flank, studying her body with intent notion. A grim smile bled over Synile's face, Aristide feeling rather uncomfortable. Aristide took her eyes off of Synile... which was the wrong mistake. Bad idea, Aristide! Aristide was rather perplexed and confused as to what she was saying, before she could reply, Aristide felt a narrowed pressure induced on her neck as Synile pushed her body to the ground with her claws collapsing around the flesh of her neck and air ways. Aristide collapsed to the ground as Synile's body and weight put her down like a wounded animal. Marcus watched with awe, but his eyes caught Hannibal on the side lines, watching as everything began to unfold. Of course, Hannibal was hoping for Synile to attack Marcus, but instead the tables have turned and his plan went to utmost failure. Marcus granted and returned the grim smile back to Hannibal, watching as the frustration and rage boiled in Hannibal's eyes and face. Aristide screamed in pain, suffering and squirming to free from Synile's death locked jaws. Placing her paw and talons on her rib cage, Synile smiled as she felt the cracking break snap under her paws, her rib cage breaking under the pressure being enforced. This is payback for what you've done to Marcus. Her eyes snapped from Aristide to Hannibal. You're next. Gulping in his throat, Hannibal watched as the death glare he received from Synile wasn't just a joke. Rolling back his shoulders, arms crossed, a smile bleeding on his face, Marcus watched as the fear smeared over Hannibal's face.
"Still think this is worth it?" Marcus taunted.

Aristide hissed, using all her weight on her paws, pushing up on her body to send Synile staggering off her spine. With a big clash as her right flank met with the ground, Aristide rose with baring teeth, a snarl leaving through cracked jaws. Synile rose, tackling Aristide to the ground with gaping jaws clamped over her top and bottom jaws like a muzzle. Placing her paws around Aristide's head, Synile slammed Aristide's head repeatedly against the ground, a faint snap sounding from her neck and head. Aristide snarled and hissed, shaking her head as her vision was blurred with white blotches inking her sight. Synile tore from Aristide's body, leaping towards Marcus as she took him in her jaws, launching herself back into the sky, airborne. Hannibal ran over to Aristide, placing a hand over her head and cheek bone. Groaning, she forgot what it had felt like having someone there at your side. For years she has been alone, but Hannibal has shown that appreciation for a while, but he still hasn't passed her "test" she has on every rider that seems suitable for the first round. Leveling her body in the air, Synile searched and scanned below. Marcus felt a link that was unfamiliar and rather abnormal. One he hasn't felt in years. Scanning below, he felt this "link" grow as they drew closer. Above the horizon rose a facility born into their vision. Flapping her wings with a sheer thrust of force, Synile delved slightly through the clouds and air, closing in a few miles off the ground. Back winging, Synile hovered in the air before her paws met with a cliff ledge. Marcus held onto her neck, peering over her head as he watched the sun go down. Wrenching her head, the light was obscured by a black shadow with pierced her view as a dragon came hurling from the sky. Synile snarled, baring her teeth as she took flight by launching herself from the ledge, the dragon attacking the cliff ledge after she had jumped. Snapping her wings open as she tore from the dive, Synile pulled her body back into the air, ascending further above the clouds. Marcus watched as the dragon, which presumed to be Aristide, trailed behind them. Marcus watched a smile bled and curve the corners of her lips as her mind raced with thoughts and ideas, knowing that it wasn't such a good idea. Especially for Synile having an idea. That meant wrath, blood shed and tearing worlds apart.

Ascending into the air, she knew Aristide was still following behind her. Expanding her jaws with an arch of her neck, Aristide let loose a torrent of flame behind Synile, but Synile veered out of the path of the flame, making her escape into the ash, smug-colored clouds. Coming to a halt in flight as she lost sight of Synile, Aristide looked around with Hannibal on her spine, her eyes scanning, body twisting to look everywhere. There was no sign of Synile anywhere. Flying above them with nearly warped speed, Synile appeared out of a blink of an eye as a screeching sound bordering the air, a ball of electricity and fire combing ramming into Aristide's wing. Seconds later, another ball shot from the air, hitting into her side. Aristide hissed as Synile appeared into her view, her talons racked and spread, their bodies clashing together. Synile's wings nearly clipped Hannibal from Aristide's spine, the force of impact making Aristide losing her balance in the air. With one thrust of her wings, Synile dove in front of Aristide, wings pinned against her flanks, heeding her way towards the ground. Veering from side to side, Synile held her grounds in flight as Aristide trialed right behind them. Marcus held onto her neck and spine as he didn't like this idea one bit. Snapping open one of her wings, her body twisted with her back facing the ground. Pounding her wings, she tore from Aristide's view, leaving her defenseless. Aristide couldn't do anything as her wings were ripped and torn, holes protruding through the flesh. Back winging to gain a fatal loft in the air, it was all futile. Crashing into the ground, her face planted first into the ground, knocking Hannibal from her spine, dust and debris rose into the air from her collision with the ground. Aristide hissed as a shattering sound of a high pitched scream that shattered the sound barrier bordered the sky above them, closing in like a mortar on a city. The high pitch screech echoed in the air, giving signal to the creature creating the sound. Aristide hissed, her eyes widening as she watched a shadow in the air close in, harvesting a large ball of electricity and flame combined. Arching her neck and spine, Synile expunged a roaring ball of wrath towards Aristide and Hannibal. As the ball hit into the ground, a pulsing wave racked the land, rippling a wave over the surface of the land, spreading vastly and across the surface. A eruption bloomed in the air as if an atom or hydrogen bomb had struck the surface of the ground. A massive mushroom cloud formed in the air from the burst of impact from Synile's race, rising in the air and curving to form the mushroom shape.

Light brightened up the sky, Synile's eyes glittered with the soles of blood pooling within her eyes, bleeding her rage and satisfaction from her duty and work being done and created. Marcus watched with little pity, but then swallowed all of his regret and appreciated Synile even more for she saved his life once again. Never think that I am not here for you, because I always am. Synile warned Marcus, a gentle, firm smile cocked on her face. Her eyes averted over to him as she looked over her shoulders, the gentle flicker in her eyes showing that she was well motivated and true in her words. Never did he doubt her, nor should he start. Thrusting her wings at her side, Synile ascended into the sky, falling airborne above Aristide and Hannibal's little scene.

A crater laid formed into the ground, a scar placed on the surface of the planet and land mass. Pure ash fell from the sky, landing firmly over Aristide's limp body as Synile had given her all, but just not enough to prove her point and murder to where no one can touch Marcus. Her wings extended flat over the ground, her body limp and lifeless. Between the two sisters, Synile was born in blood, while as Aristide was born in ash, which is how her name was generated: Ashes of a Fallen. The facility wasn't far by, the eruption shuddered the building, causing it to creak and quake from the massive eruption. Synile was just awakening from the monster on the inside. But, it was beginning to eat her alive... from the inside.
Edited by Vaelyis, January 30, 2011, 6:40 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
He was sent back to his cell and he went straight to the corner and pulled the chemicals out. He swallowed in disgust, hating how they extracted his venom and only know noticing it is really the only way how. He hissed, but bit into the lid of the jar and let his venom fall into the jar. When he had enough, he took a small amount of each chemical and mixed them all with one another and added his venom. When nothing happened in any of them, he tried mixing three together of all kinds and added his venom. Still, nothing. He tried adding 4 all mixed and added his venom and got irritated when nothing happened still. He mixed 5 all different and now only had 4 mixes to add his venom to, now. He did so, and his eyes brightened as one made the whole tray of chemicals explode, though he only used a drop of each, and the glass fell to the floor. He smiled and noted the chemicals he would need. He went to his door and knocked, knowing a guard was out there.
"What is it?"
"Bathroom." He said simply, his knife in hand that he had stolen three days ago from a previuos guard.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
Marcus watched the turquoise-blue mists rise through her chest, bones, nostrils and mouth, ice steeped over the surface of each and every individual bone. Rotting, decaying flesh stripped over the bones, clung and hanging from the rib-cage, dangling below her chest, while most of the flesh was between bones and the fingers of her wings. The membranes of her wings were rather different. Stripped and graded like strips of cheese, the flesh clung and hung from each wing finger, giving her the ability of flight. Marcus sat on her spine, his eyes wandering below, feeling the movement and strides in her body as her wings pounded and thundered against her flanks. Wings expanded and outstretched, she glided with ease, the bones in her rib-cage swaying from side to side as she veered to the side, delving through the clouds, pulling up and straining against the torrents of wind. Back winging, Marcus felt the cold brush breeze break against his face. Her paws landed in soft, white snow, the chills being sent down his spine. As they both know, Synile Annibal has an expiration date: meaning that she is going to snap some time. There is no saying when, but Marcus knows it's going to be soon. Ruffling her wings, Synile tore away from Marcus, marching on her own rampage. Narrowing his eyes, curious and concerned, he watched Synile climb her way up a steep cliff, her wings and talons being used to pull her body closer to the ledge of the cliff.

Hefting her body over the ledge, her talons sank into the ice and snow, pulling her body over the ledge, her wings being used as support to hold her body up. The glowing mists in her eyes dwindling down to the expunged turquoise-blue, rising above her snout, nostrils, chest and body, her skeletal structure pulling off the mighty look to her structure. Flicking her tail, her wings hugging the side of the cliff, her eyes flickered a smile within the blue mists. Shaking her head, her wings thrown back and unfurled, outstretching to their full length, her jaws expanding, a roar erupted through her cracked open jaws, emitting a powerful echo as it shattered and broke through, pulsing and reverberating within her chest and throat. Below here, nearly miles down was a massive army of dragons below, mists expunged from their skeletal bodies as well. Ranging between black, blue, red and amethyst, they all had different shades—none were ever the same. The mists emitted from their bones and body reflect on the colors of their orb (heart). Like DNA or finger prints, none can be the same. It defeats the purpose of being different. Marcus stood at her side, watching as he saw with his own eyes the race Synile has been keeping alive for generations. The purpose of staying alive, is to prosper, she spoke. Marcus glanced over to Synile as her eyes slowly met with his. Keep that in mind.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
The guard rolled his eyes. "Why not go in your cell?! That's what dogs do!"
Storm did not take offense this time, knowing this man was about to regret ever working here. This guard had verbally abused him countless times and he would be sure to get a world of torture before he killed and destroyed the whole place.
The guard let him out, regardless, and chained his wrists, though keeping them in front of him instead of behind his back for obvious reasons. He led him to the bathroom and stood in there as Storm went around the wall. He kept his poker face in place as he easily removed the toilet paper dispenser and took the metal roll, bending it in a way that could be used for a picklock. He picked the cuffs and subtly grabbed his knife. He flushed and the guard came around to take him back. Storm smirked and spun around, stabbing him in the throat and forcing the knife into the wall, keeping the man trapped there as his nerves would not function well enough to move to remove the knife, he was forced to stay there, in pain, unable to breathe properly, and dying so slowly....
Storm laughed softly, ominously. He gave a polite nod. "There. Trapped to a wall. Just like a whimpering dog."
The guard began to beg, but Storm shook his head. "Dogs get nothing when they beg. Remember? You taught me that in all of our torture sessions." He turned and walked away, smiling as the guard screamed and begged for him to come back. He walked out the door and locked it before he shut it, allowing no one inside. It was so thick, though, it's not like anyone could hear him anyway.
He snuck around the corners and hallways, being sure to stay out of view of the countless cameras he had been sure to take note of a couple days before and study where they could and could not see.
He managed to get to the Labratory and he snuck in as someone walked out, catching the door with his hand and slipping in. He looked around and felt lucky as he saw no one there. He looked around, searching for the chemicals he needed.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
Marcus' eyes followed hers, the Syneath leadership never to fall. Mother was the key to the birth and living of such a omniscient breed. Founder, Mother, pro-creator, progenitor—she has been named all the following and yet she is still proceeded as a destructive, volatile monster. Willingness has prevailed, death has not yet been imminent. For years they have tried and for years they have so seldomly failed to watch the Mother fall to her knees and onwards towards her deathbed. Synile engraved fear in their eyes, knowing that fear had driven them to near extinction when she had left for so many years. Now she walks without confusions and recklessness. With the thought in mind no suicide attempts have been made, and yet the Syneath still live with their hearts functioning and their riders with quenching-tipped blades, hoarding the symbols of their language and culture. Syneath are no bound of being reluctant, nor perceived as knowledgeable in any other species known in worlds beyond what they seek. Their species run uncanny, filled with a muster they cannot begin to explain. Unknown to the mind, their motives unexpected, even the Syneath breed are unaware of the energy, strength and power their known to and for. Synile is the only living Syneath that knows every living breath, power, strength and energy known to them. A forsaken Mother of her time, she is keen to her knowledge. Delivering the decimation of a lifetime, she could deliver a blow that could repel for miles and even then destroy galaxies and planets at her own will. She is yet to implode her own mastery as she lies dormant all the while. Marcus is merely waiting for her to snap and break in two, a line tied between two trees. Soon she will snap and undergo a monster even she fears could end her own wake. Time will take its course and she will polish the lands with blood, soaking and drenching with steeped a crimson glow. A smile tipped her face, the thought blooming once had been triggered in her own conscience. You see, they think of us as vermin. Little drones. Do we look like drones? Are we pawns for their enjoyment? No, we're not. Blood and Death stand on your shoulders, mocking each other and you focus only on one thing: yourself and how you will lead them. They follow you, Marcus. This isn't a joke or power you can play around with. Surely it is given to you, but I can easily take that away. And you don't want that, now do you? Hesitant to reply, he shook his head in answer, no words falling from his mouth. Merely speechless as it is. Clearly. Her head and chin tipped up, her skeletal body dawning a cascading light, fluctuating at a ravenous pace, just like her own mischievous temper and mind. The monster on the inside waiting in anticipating, baring its teeth in wait to be released from its prison. All can be counted on accord, but she daunts her own lesson as she stands in her rude awakening amongst the thousands who look up to her. Someone calls for you, she spoke calmly. Who they are, I cannot say. But they speak of your name.
"What do you mean?"
You say you cannot hear him?
"No."
Then I will take you to him. Perplexed as he was, Marcus said nothing more towards her. She has became unstable and at that, she has ridden herself freely from her conscience, becoming something different—she wasn't herself. Marcus knew Synile well and her behavior as of now was becoming a major concern for him, and possibly a threat if she persists.
"Are you alright... Synile?"
Why do you ask?
"You're not... you."
What do you mean, boy?
"I don't know, you just seem a little different."
I am the same. You know that.
"Okay..." Narrowing her eyes, she hissed at his reply. Knowing he knew of something she wasn't going to batter him any more or less. Crouching to the ground she signaled for him to mount. Nodding his head he climbed upon her spine, settling himself near the nape of the spine. Flaring her wings open, the wind breaking against the tattered and torn membranes, her eyes slowly closed as her body slightly tipped over the edge of the cliff. Letting go her weight dropped, as well as her body. Closing his eyes, Marcus pulled his body to a close embrace against her body, feeling the fresh breath of wind break against his face and body as they free-fell from the cliff. Pulling out from the dive, her wings repelled from her flanks, her body being yanked from the dive. Opening her wings parallel with her spine, she soon leveled out sailing amongst the turrets of wind, ascending above the clouds.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
(Aight, I haven't half a clue what plans I mights had for this rp so Ima wing it :D)

He smiled, finding the ones he wanted. He gently picked up the vials of each vital ingredient, one not being able to work properly without the others. He grabbed a vial filled with a purple chemical, grabbing another filled with a blue one, and finally grabbing one that held a green chemical. This one, however, was only half full.
He paused for a moment, sensing something familiar close by but finally dismissed it as he could not identify it. He turned to walk out through the only exit from the chemical lab but only to find that exit blocked by a small group of guards. Preparing himself, he slipped the vials in his pockets, one per pocket, making him put one in his back pocket. He smiled his fanged smile. "Look, we all know none of you like me and I like none of you. So how about we settle this by simply moving aside, hm? No?" He got his answer as the guards smiled right back at him and pulled out something that was unique to this building and how it runs. It was what looked more like a wand than anything else with a gripping place at the base. It looked very easy to break and not very threatening. However, Storm was well aware what they did and too aware of how difficult it was to break one. He himself had never been able to do so. His confidence fell at the sight of three men armed with such mechanisms and he took a step back, the pain they could bring burned in his memory. But he couldn't just give up. He'd gotten this far. He glanced around, hoping to find something, anything that would help him even a little. He smirked when he saw a small vial of a yellow liquid. He slid over the only table between him and the vial, swiping the chemical from it's desk and opening it. He looked at the men. "Some people learn from other people's failures." He bared his fangs and let a single drop of his venom fall into the small vial. There was a loud pop and the room was instantly filled with smoke too thick for even Storm to be able to see properly. He heared the men begin coughing and their feet shuffling inside the room in hopes of finding the loose demon. Storm smiled as he closed his eyes and used only his ears. He blindly danced his way away from the oncoming men and to the door, stepping outside into the cleaner air. He opened his eyes and looked back into the room. Nothing could be seen but the smoke floating around in its cage. That was pure luck. I'm gonna need something to help me out a little bit, here. He glanced at the door lock. This door never stayed locked as there was never a reason to lock it. So if I do lock it, there should be some kind of- He touched the pad that automatically shut the door. He also hit the button right beside the touch-pad, the red button that locked the door securely. He smiled as his hypothesis was right and alarms began sounding. Now, let's see if I just made an idiot move or if it was worth it. He rushed through the new guards coming to the scene, using walls and open doors to hide himself from them. He finally made it to a hall that held prisoners. Relief flooded over him as the alarm system had opened their doors, setting them free faster than the guards could run through and shut their cells. Now all he had to do was figure out where the exit was to the outside. If only I'd had a chance to find that out sooner. I don't even have a clue where to start. He spun around to head back out the way he'd came but only ended up standing toe to toe with a guard, the familiar wand-like weapon in his grip, the tip now touching Storm's stomach. He felt his blood turn to ice and the guard smiled.
"Going somewhere, boy?" The guard's voice was a raspy hiss.
Storm swallowed. If he had to choose what he hated most in this place, it had to be this weapon. His fear seemed to pause for a moment, though, as he felt once more he knew a familiar prescence near this area. Hope stirred in him as he began to realize who it was. He tried his absolute hardest to focus not on the weapon pointed at him but to concentrate and use his mind for a better purpose. "MARCUS!" He called out.
He hoped it was enough. The guard twisted the wand roughly and Storm flinched as blood dropped to the floor. The guard laughed vilely. "Where does a dog go?"
Storm grabbed the tip of the wand by instinct, his body beginning to panic and screaming at him to pull it out. It did him no good as he felt the weapon begin to work. He felt the different thorny strands wrap around different organs and nerves. He felt the jolt of firey pain be thrown into him. He felt his knees and hands hit the ground as he collapsed. He heard his own scream running through the corridor.
"I asked a question, boy." The guard hissed, his black eyes gleaming. "Where does a dog go?"
Storm scored his claws on the concrete floor. He didn't care that he knew the answer. He didn't care that he hated it. All he wanted was to give it. But the pain was choking him. He couldn't breathe.
He managed to get half a gasp, his body shaking from the intensity of the pain and his struggling to try. He used that small breath to answer, hoping with all his heart his answering would make the guard stop. "O-on the ground!" His voice was broken in pieces with his words.
The guard gave a soft laugh. "Good dog." He pet Storm's head.
Storm awaited the pain to be over, thinking he'd pleased the guard. He didn't expect the next jolt of burning hell inside of him and he fell to his side, his body physically unable to keep him up a second longer. He once again screamed, begging the guard to stop. As he felt the strands releasing his insides and the wand slipping out from its small hole in his stomach, he could swear he felt he was in paradise.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
(Hey, go for any idea you have! Haha I don't mind considering I don't want us bored half the time. My guinea pig is licking my hand while I am typing this and I am having a difficult time trying to write because of his lard-ass being in my way! It's been a long time since I've ever responded, let alone even Rp'd with anyone / written anything. Let's see if I still got this, huh!?)



A sudden ping of pain raddled his brain seconds before he knew of the shock had riled him numb and incapable of regenerating any sort of feeling within his body. Synile hadn't taken notice of the sheer shell-shock that overwhelmed her rider, but seemingly she was well aware of the uncertainty that abruptly struck him with unpleasant odds. Thrusting his palm against his forehead, Marcus regained his senses and reimbursed his conscience before consulting what had just happened seconds ago, unknown to such drastic amounts of pain that was minimally endured at hand. Dreading what he had just encountered, Marcus shook his head and briefly took a recap. Recalling a mere moment of hearing his name, he was merely taken back and perplexed; the voice was familiar and nonetheless a name he hasn't heard in years; a person whom he hasn't recollected in almost nearly what seemed like a century in his time. Pulling back on Synile's neck to ward a simple command towards her, she refused his demands and remained at her own pace, ignoring his fair use of conscience desire. "Are you listening to me?" Silence overran her conscience and her maw, which seemed to draw a conclusion of hostility and mere absence of mind within his dragon. Narrowing his eyes on her Marcus withdrew a sign and rolled his eyes while a smudge of his lip rose in frustration. In all his years of knowing her he's never seen such behavior from her before, not even when dealing with a child who's insubordinate and doesn't wish to cooperate most of the time. But even so: she was off her rocker and he recognized it well simply because she was abnormally calm and unresponsive. "You make this more difficult than what is has to be, and I am simply trying to pinpoint where that voice came from." Taking a slight pause—waiting for an answer—he spoke briefly towards her, knowing she was content on her own mission apart from his own. "I know you can hear me, Synile. I need to know where it came from. You're being irrational and not supportive here." After the last few sentences he raised a hiss and low bellow from her, knowing it at least triggered a response from her—for now.
You want to know where it came from? Fine. I will show you if you're so intent on knowing who it is and where this place is located. To say the least: you won't be so surprised, let alone enlightened on where we're about to go.
"Why's that?"
That's for you to find out.
"I was dreading that answer." Marcus' input remained silent and occupied while Synile drafted her body slightly towards the borderline of a large mountain range, heeding her direction closer to a portion of the land that was once called home, but now remained as the Deadlands or No Man's Land. The propelling motion of her wings drifted slightly before he felt a change of motion; she quickly delved out from the depths of the sky, slowly dipping into a sky dive before pulling out and flaring her wings out fully to break from free-fall.
Marcus sat comfortably between the nape of the shoulders, embracing his thighs against the baseline that meets between the neck and shoulders. He braced for a sudden familiarity of the place Synile spoke of, wondering why she kept is a secret from him, or even cryptic as she settled down further upon landing. Banking to the left her wings held parallel in the sky and alongside of her spine, quickly adjusting her movement before pumping her wings to draw in more momentum and speed within each bracing grasp she could muster as she performed slightly aerobatics within the sky. Leveling her body along the borderline between sky and land, Synile threw back her wings in a small buffet, her paws being thrown out to embrace a quick and sturdy landing. The first to breach the cold, hard and blackened dirt were her back legs, her front paws drifting in front to meet with the rest of her body for an even break before she broke out in a light sprint, slowly bringing her stride down to a canter and a halt. Synile spoke nothing more and remained silent, walking briskly towards a clearing that leaned over dry, barren land that overlooked a rusted haul that prodded out from the cracks of the horizon. Marcus hauled his body off her shoulders, throwing himself towards the ground and bracing for impact as he landed carefully beside her, standing alongside with his eyes peering at the building that seemed to have caught his sight. "Is that what I think it is?"
The old prison? Yes. Bring back any memories?
"Enough for old times sake."

Marcus sat back pondering and watching as there was little activity outside the building; not much has changed in the years the two have last seen it, let alone being within side its walls. Getting out was tricky considering it was high priced and well guarded to its maximum standards, but times have changed since the building was a popular site. "Looks like they downgraded over the years."
Don't let looks deceive you, dear boy.
"I'm not a child anymore, Synile. You think I wouldn't have learned by now?"
No.
"That's cold." Rolling his shoulders Marcus crouched low to the ground, placing all his weight on his left arm before disembarking off the side of the ledge, gliding down a small slope before coming to a halt in his stance. Synile stood in silence as per usual, casually flicking her tail with no intention to stopping Marcus from his pursuit. He was well aware of the prison's well guarded nature and its history of maximum security; it held a reasonable reputation among others of its kind. His pace was slow and cautious, regarding the building itself and holding no hope that what he's about to do won't come with any consequences. Clenching his fists Marcus strode up towards the building, his eyes locked on a couple guards that stood silently and still at the main gates. The men neither flinched nor motioned towards him, only to know they did, in fact, recognized his presence but never stirred. Marcus wasn't disrupting their issued orders, but nevertheless, it was their on-call to provide strict annotations that no one was allowed within the building; visitation rights were banned and restricted within the area to anyone. Marcus knew well of how this place works, especially when he became well acquainted with the warden. One of the men decided to step foot in front of Marcus, ending his pursuit with his hand being thrown out in front of him, bumping his chest in signal that he wasn't neither threatening or engaging him, but simply warning him.
"I am sorry, sir, but you cannot enter any further into this perimeter."

A smirk elongated over Marcus' face, curling the corners of his face as a cold smile blossomed on his face. "And why's that?" Marcus asked in turn, knowing the guard was getting tired of repeatedly answering the cliched questions.
"You're not permitted, sir."
"This is open land. How am I not permitted?"
"Upon regulations of this facility and prison alone—and orders from the warden himself—you are not permitted to enter this prison."
"Isn't that unfortunate? I came here for a friend."
"I assume so, but nonetheless: you're not allowed in here. Turn around and head back the same direction you came from."
"If I don't? Is that going to be a problem?"
"For me? No. You? I would assume so."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No, I am giving you a fair warning."
"You guys sound like a broken record, like you're tested on this shit. Tell me: do they prep you on what to say or is this all just mediocre bullshit you just come up with?"
"It's how we were trained, sir. Now get steppin'."
"There's a new one on me. How does one enter this place? Or even get issued here?"
"By breaking the law."
"Well, one would have to do something pretty serious to wind up in this place. How petty are the crimes in order to be sentenced here?"
"Rape, murder, theft, drug peddling—the works."
"So nothing... insane?"
"No, why you ask?"
"Just curious." Marcus stood cautiously in front of the men, watching as the man on his left returned his hand off his chest and back at his side, keeping a watchful eye on Marcus and him alone. Marcus never made it awkward for himself, but he knew he had to get in that building one way or another, even if Synile didn't approve of his methods of getting around the jurisdiction or anything for that matter. It was the state of knowing who was in there and getting them out, whether they knew him personally or not. Judging by the voice that had called to him: it was a personal matter, and he needed to respond to it. It never occurred to him that it'd be Storm barricaded within the building; it was usually James who was in trouble and issued for his help. Rolling his eyes whilst exhaling a small breath of air, Marcus did the unthinkable and reacted as quickly as he possibly could without the guard realizing directly. "Don't take this too personal." The guard stood with perplexity on his face, his expression endless in what had been spoken to him; narrowing his eyes on the man in front of him, the guard stood straight—almost daunting more or less—and stepped forward. Before the guard could pick off another move, Marcus hefted his elbow in the air, aiming directly at the guard's face. Knowing the man had reflexes of his own, the guard moved his arm quickly from his side to block the attack, only to be struck in the face abruptly by Marcus' fist which was flung from his side dormant, waiting to impale as hard and quickly as he possibly could manage. Marcus had knocked the guard a couple feet back in a short retreat, knowing his buddy would impeccably interfere and restrain him. Putting up a fight with the two guards, Marcus had to put his guard down and allow them some minor restraint in order to gain entrance into the prison. So far his plan was working out perfectly; but nothing goes according to plan.

One of the guards took a hold around Marcus' chest and heaved him downwards to pin him flat on the ground, but unfortunately Marcus kicked off and head butted him with the back of his head, leading to a broken nose and slight trauma to the brain. Willingly, the guard didn't stop, even to pamper his nose and distinct broken cartilage within it. These men were juggernauts on two legs, anything was inevitable with these men and he now understood why they were administered to the building as guard dogs on watch duty. Marcus felt a pair on arms grapple around his waste, causing massive immense pressure around his rib-cage and lower abdominal region; more weight was constricted around the area, leading to dizziness and light headed symptoms, knowing where this was leading him. The man with the broken nose traced his steps and walked furiously before delivering a blow to Marcus' face, instantly knowing him unconscious. Once Marcus was out cold the men dragged his body into the prison by his arms, taking him down the halls into the dark depths of hell that once lead to his own destruction and corruption; nevertheless, Synile awaited patiently, aware of Marcus' restraint and his lack of following orders carefully. She knew well enough of what he had in mind, but didn't bother to conform her opinions or orders to him, they would've been broken otherwise. Did she take off and come to his aid? No. Her part was merely coming into play. Very soon. Well done. I am impressed. No smile peeked on her face, only a flickering glow within her eyes, the swirling masses of sanguine and carnage developing softly within the peaking ocean that resembled much of slaughter and mercy. She was just waiting for her moment; waiting for her simple instructions. Patiently.
Edited by Vaelyis, December 22, 2013, 9:24 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
(Haha, I know, it's been foreeeeever since you rped and I'm uber excited to get to rp with you again!)
"Cody and Chris, I need you on the 5th floor, 3rd hallway, 20th room from the laboratory." The guard spoke into a transmitter at his collar.
"Chris is incapable of work right now. What do you need?"
"I have your prisoner here. He's your responsibility to keep under control. I need you to come clean up this mess of him and then I'll check with the warden to see about you being replaced, since you obviously can't handle him."
"I have a partner down. I can't be expected to work under these conditions alone with him and the warden will see that. I'm on my way."
The guard chuckled softly and Storm groaned, blood pouring from the wound from the internal injuries caused by the thorns from the odd weapon. He forced himself back to his hands and knees with great effort and managed getting one leg up under himself, only to be kicked back down by the guard. "You stay, dog. Or do we need to go over the question again?"
Storm winced at the force of the man's kick to his side. I won't get an opportunity to do this again. I can't fail here. I can't! He heard the footsteps of two other guards coming and he braced himself as one knelt, wrapping an arm around Storm's throat and curling the other arm under one of Storm's to pick up his upper half of his body while the other guard put an arm under Storm's knees and another under his waist. Storm, unable to move his head, moved his eyes to see who held his upper half, not recognizing the one holding his lower half. "Cody, I-"
"Don't speak!" Cody snapped at him and Storm flinched.
No, I can't miss my chance. I can't stay here. My body can't take it. He felt himself being carried as the two guards began walking down the hall, glimpses of other guards chasing after escaped prisoners becoming his dominant line of view.
"Why can't you just behave, Storm?! I try my best for you, I stick my neck out for you! If you'd just behave you wouldn't get punished and life would be great for you! What is so hard to comprehend about that?!"
Storm finally growled. "Don't believe the lies you're told. You have no idea what happens to me when you're not in the room!" Biting through the pain, he used the sole strength of his abdomen to jerk his legs free and kick the other guard away, then pulling himself up so his legs went behind Cody's back, his waist on Cody's shoulder and Cody's arms forced to let go because of the new twisted position of Storm's body. Storm then pushed and slid down Cody's back, landing on his feet and immediately wrapping an arm about his wound, which now burned like hell. He felt his muscles about it screaming in pain as they twisted. He forced through it, though, crouching and ready for a fight, but his eyes fell to the floor as Cody turned around to face him and he heard a crackle sound. His eyes widened in horror. The vial he's put in his back pocket had fallen out when he'd turned upside down and it was now shattered with the liquid covering the floor. "No!"
Cody lunged at him and the force and momentum threw Storm back to the wall behind him, his back hitting it roughly. Cody grabbed both of Storm's wrists and put them about his head, holding them there tightly, anger burning in Cody's eyes. Cody spoke in a low hiss. "You're right. I have no idea what all happens to you. But damnit, Storm, I am trying my hardest to get you out of this place. And you always stirring up trouble doesn't help! How am I supposed to get you out of here with you now going to be known as the one who did nothing but destroy an entire testing area?!"
"By not putting me back in that damn cell." Storm retorted, his eyes holding Cody's gaze steadily. But he knew Cody would not disobey the warden like that. He had met the warden only once and he couldn't blame Cody for fearing him. I just ruined everything! I need that chemical!
Cody shook his head. "I'm beginning to think you may really belong in a cell, Storm. But I won't be taking you back to the one we've been going to. You're going to get a new one. One more suitable to your strengths and weaknesses. With a guard who isn't an idiot." He released one hand from Storm's wrists and punched Storm square in his stomach, making Storm jerk and his legs finally give out, his vision going blurred from a combination of pain and blood loss. Cody released his other hand and let Storm fall to the ground. He bent, pulling his belt from his pants and putting Storm's hands behind his back, tying them tightly and jerking Storm back up onto his feet. "Why don't you try behaving, huh?! I don't like you when you don't."
Storm gave a soft whine and Cody took his upper right arm and began leading him, jerking him when he fell behind regardless that Storm attempted his best with his wound.
Cody didn't turn to face him, but he did keep his eyes down. He didn't mean his words, but he knew Storm's weakness and that would be his mind. And he had to play on everything he could.
Edited by Ice, December 9, 2013, 9:54 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
(I am uber excited to be Rping with you also :)) It's been a while and I feel the need to get back into it, considering it's been depressing that I haven't been doing the best about it all nor trying hard enough to start into writing and Rping again. But it's a good thing now c: 'Cause now I can just sit back, watch TV and type. Now, let's get this post on the road, shall we? :DD Alright!)


The dead weight of his body caused no issues to the guard what-so-ever, seemingly as this man was built for strength, not endurance. Heavy set in the chest with a stature of a formidable man of built power, it was an easy task simply enough. The tugging on his arms was causing restlessness along the shoulders and arms, mainly due to the man not giving the slightest bit of care into it, let alone oblivious to the prisoner he had taken in cautiously. Names weren't an issue here, just the circumstances of their well being and the reasoning behind their detainment. Marcus' reason was simply one thing: stupidity. A silent blur overlapped his sight, a daunting confusion that became overwhelming for him; reasonably he tried to see where he was being dragged to, but the blow to his head was pounding and slowly becoming a nuisance—the pain was bearable, however, frequently annoying as he resisted the persistent throbbing. Wincing slightly Marcus felt a abrupt tug on his arm, responding briefly to see the guard hefted Marcus from the ground and held him pinned against the wall, back propped firmly against the cold surface, his eyes meeting face to face with the guard. As his vision cleared he could define the details and proportions of the man's face, his eyes riled with a sensible anger, no evidence of a calming storm in his eyes. At this point Marcus would create a snide, smart ass remark and knowing his mouth it would come out sooner or later—this is how he managed to get into most of his frays, no matter how many times Synile has warned him about it. He felt the condensed pressure align near his chest and lower throat, the larger guard holding him at will and seemingly with a pressing amount of bottled up anger. A edged smirk lined along the corners of Marcus' lips, cocking a one-side smile as he watched the guard angrily confide in his temptation to beat the pulp out of him, that was until Marcus opened his mouth instead of keeping it shut, managing to enrage the bulky brute even more. "So, are we going to make out or are you just gonna stand there a bit more and stare into my eyes? It's a bit romantic, don't you think? You don't seem like the type."
"You've got another thing coming, boy."
"Oh, here we go: name calling. For a big guy like you I'd find you more aggressive with your insults, but you seem a bit... rusty?"
"You don't keep your mouth shut, I will—"
"What? Am I going to hear the famous one liners? "I am going to rip your throat open", "You won't ever see the light of day", "I will make sure you and your entire family is dead" and my personal favorite: "I will kill you." It's not like I haven't heard any of those before. Seriously, can you ever get creative? Give me something new! Your lack of imagination really brings out your intelligence for a brute man like yourself. All that burly muscular tone isn't going to scare everyone off. You had me going for a second!" The grip around his throat tightened, the veins pulsing in the man's forearm and fingers; his law lining clenched and bulged noticeably beneath the skin, muscles tense and flaring from the immense anger roaring through his thoughts and blood stream. "Am I making you angry?"
"Even more so."

The smirk on his face never left nor seemed to have gotten any more lucid at this point; he seemed to enjoy the torment in which the man was going through, nevertheless high school was no big deal for this guy. Marcus wasn't a bully, but he seemed to know how to pick his enemies and the points that lead him where he is now—it was never an issue, even when a child. Marcus was determined whether he was going to pop his head off or simply decapitate him limb by limb, but the issued sense was that the guard wasn't insisting on letting go any time soon, and he knew it would presume to be a problem—and he had no time for unexpected time changers at this point. "I am going to have to cut things short, make a little time. I am sure you would enjoy breaking my bones, removing my head or even beating me to death: but I have somewhere to be. I know you wouldn't understand, considering your varied use of anger at this moment."
"You're not going anywhere, kid."
"You have to let this go. I may sound like a child, but I am a grown man and you need to consult to that or otherwise this just isn't going to last much longer. However, your mental capacity right now could really use a limber up!" The choking sensation and compulsive behavior of insisted strength increased within the guard's grip; his hands nearly turning blue from implying immense pressure and strain, his eyes almost bulging out from their sockets due to the piled up rage built within side of him and Marcus' behavior and cocky attitude wasn't making any difference. Marcus' hands shot out from his side to grip the man's thick, burly forearms; his fingers barley curled around for his fingertips to meet. Between the guard and Marcus, the two of them were lined up on different battlefields, and unfortunately this wasn't no playground. "I'd drop your guard right now if I were you."
"And why's that?"
"I didn't come here alone."
"I didn't see anybody else with you. What are you packing besides your meat suit?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you."

The compelling strength of the man wasn't entirely impressive to Marcus, but being able to raise an arm and hold his body a couple feet off the ground was ensuring enough. The brute man brought himself closer before raising his arm and Marcus' body simultaneously, holding him more than just a couple feet off the ground; he was no longer eye level with the juggernaut of a guard, instead he was dangling freely with his eyes staring straight down at his narrowed scorn that seemed to develop at a scarce pace, enriched and glorified to the point where a smile nearly flickered within them. I'd hate to crash the party! a voice billowed within his conscience, the feminine metallic sound familiar and soothing, almost on time to the point where Marcus' couldn't handle the large man any longer.
"Anytime now would be nice!" The guard narrowed his eyes in brief confusion, his grip neither loosening nor letting go but instead tightened and created more gurgling pain as he found it difficult to breathe and even swallow. A whirling sound of screaming pierced the building's walls, dropping the tone to a high pitched bellow before a flash of light flashed, walls collapsing and exploding outwards. A ball of mixed lightning and fire impaled the ceiling, enforcing a massive explosion that encroached the small, condensed room and halls within the building itself. Marcus felt his body fly against the wall with his back sliding downwards, his feet meeting the tiles that were broken and shattered to the core. The guard was left standing in a crouched position a couple feet from Marcus' standing point, his hands clutched over his ears in wincing pain, blood oozing between his fingers as he was fighting to remain standing and on his feet. A high pitched tone echoed in his ears, almost like a pinging pain one would hear after having their ear drums blown out to high extremes or even a flash grenade going off just inches in front of him.

His vision failed to gather in time to see the guard come charging towards him, his eyes blurred with reddened anger, the madness becoming a corrupted overwhelming intrusion which became natural and predatory—almost instinctive. Marcus' initial reaction would be to flee and turn his back, hitting his gut and breaking for a run from the hurling man, but instead his mind took over and he breached a small, yet short ended skirmish with the man. Marcus took a single blow to the chest and shoulder, but without even thinking on his feet he refrained from taking a dodge and quickly took an uppercut to the lower jaw, his body steadily falling limp as he cradled slowly to a plummeting fall towards the cracked and uplifting tiles. His back saved the landing and a blow to the head, but it didn't do much to his state whilst getting his ass kicked by a brute monster that deemed a bounty over his own head. Initially he would detain himself and make at this point, but as much regards to his process to thinking: he didn't even have a conscience let alone common sense. His elbows propped against the tiles while his hands remained in the air next to his body, his mind trying to make sense of what happened while his body had already registered the blows and prodding pain. His lower lip and portion of the upper lip busted, blood running down his chin and pooling in his mouth, Marcus propped himself enough to where he could see the guard slowly hovering over him, his left arm reaching out to grab a hold around his neck and the collar of his shirt. A small pinch was deducted as the man grabbed him firmly, entitled to smear his face into the floor and strangle him with his own intestines; either that or dismember him and cover the floor with his own body parts and entrails. The man seemed persistent and countable with presuming his anger into what was left of his remaining vengeance he held against Marcus, but pretty soon he was going to be a meat suit of mush and liquid. Coughing up the blood that was harvested in his throat, Marcus felt a abrupt jerk to his head, his skull inclining at an angle against the collar of his jacket, his eyes slowly opening to the guard leaning over him, his right hand hefted in the air, waiting to impale his once again—but this time fatally.

A small chuckling laugh reverberated from the guard's mouth, his lips curling to show teeth within his smile, his eyes lighting up distinctly to show his satisfaction. His eyebrows rose with a slight cock to his head, the smile deepening as the guard rose his clenched, tightened fist; with a jerk of his elbow and shoulder, the guard quickly dripped his arm to impale Marcus once more. Another hurling scream reverberated and shattered glass as it pierced and broke the sound barrier, another impact of a sonic boom and a hurling explosion following seconds after. The guard's weight was thrown off Marcus' stationary body as the explosion and impact hurled a mustering force that flattened the halls entirely face down, crippling and toppling over one another. A blast of frozen blue light and fire flared as the ball of mixed lightning and fire had countered upon impact once more upon the building, the source of the blast being foreign and out of sight. Easy enough Marcus already had a clue of who it was and he was thankful in this moment that she was doing her job properly, instead of insisting on hurling through the ceiling like the last couple of times they had performed a search and rescue—in her case: search and destroy. Heaving his body to the side, his arms propped and held firmly in front of his face while holding himself in the fetal position, Marcus watched as the small flames licked the air, chewing and eating away at small flecks of metal, wood and damaged material that had been blown apart and scatted from the explosion. A burst of flame belched from an open room, the small incursion recruiting more damage around his area, smoke rising in thick mass plumes which seemed to have swallowed the entire hallway and entrance. Silence finally had taken its place, drifting apart from the cracks of fire burning and eating away at whatever it touched, feeling for some form of energy to keep itself alive and burning. Sparks flared from electrical wires coming free from the ceiling, water spewing upwards in thick turrets as broken pipes were busted and severed. The explosion ricocheted throughout the building, causing massive and extreme damage along the entire perimeter.

Slowly turning from his side, Marcus firmly embraced his palms against the surface of the tiles, finding some form of leverage to balance out his weight and body. Kicking his feet outwards to gain a vantage point of leverage and mobility, Marcus inclined his spine and lower body to uplift and push off slowly to regain a standing position. He took a few steps forward in his best to get used to his weight once again, before getting knocked around and thrown about like a rag doll. His legs seemed to be picking up slight pace, but he felt the quivering tremors knocking his knees together and causing slight failures to confide with his weight, ultimately resorting to his legs giving out and collapsing on him. Using the walls as his prop for balance, he placed all his weight against the wall and near his arms and palms. This gave him a bigger advantage to mobility, moving along the walls to find a fixture on where to go and how to get out of the building, while trying to find the prisoner that reached out to him. Shaking his head to deafen the sounds around him, the blurring images of fire, bright lights and broken glass, pipes, shattered walls, and torn fixtures all diffusing his sight and creating illusions. The light of settled flames—which increasingly grew due to the amount of oxygen flowing through the room, feeding the element to replenish its main necessity—were proving to be a nuisance as nestled plumes broke out in mild explosion and bleeding pants of swallowed plumes that breached feet above the collapsed ceiling. Marcus made his route down the hallway, inclining his weight against the wall in hopes to breach further towards his final destination. Moving past a metal beam that seemingly used to prop the veiling above their heads, Marcus felt an abrupt foreign tug against his ankle, pulling him backwards ferociously and aggressively. His body fell forward to an incline, his hands bracing for impact to quickly save his face and head from colliding with the tiles and hardened floor and scattered broken glass. Rolling over to his back Marcus' eyes met with the opponent that has been giving him hell since he got here. The massive juggernaut of a guard stood towering above him with his massive brute body and trembling ferocity. The man was malicious, fierce, destructive, and above all: murderous. His intent to killing Marcus was peaked and at the top of his list, making it more so harder for him to escape and break free from this hell they called a secure prison.

Marcus twisted his body while kicking out his legs, engaging brief conflict as he tore the guard's legs out from underneath him, the weight collapsing downwards as the mighty fell. Kicking his feet and pushing himself forward, Marcus kicked off and broke out into a mild run before sliding to his knees and gliding underneath the beam that had fallen to a break in his escape between him and the guard. Fire broke out into a roaring parade, exploding and belching outwards as Marcus focused on prodding himself forward down the hall in order to get away from the destructive mess behind him—whom in which held intent on killing (and that isn't the first time). Time was closing in on him as seconds flew by, making it seem like minutes became his crucial moments. Tick tick tick. He could hear the clock ticking down the seconds in his head as he raced down the hall, forgetting about the pain in his leg, chest and lower body. Blood seeped through an open wound that was propped wide with a shard of metal protruding through the flesh and pants. He ignored it all and set it off to the side in order to make out with his left from a devastating encounter that could have ended his life. Synile was playing close calls on being danger close, but it was in her proximity to maintain and keep him alive as long as he could function and keep a grasp on a beating heart. Synile was already having a hard time as it is keeping a lock on him as he went from running incognito to flying solo and running from a brute juggernaut that had all intentions on killing him on the spot. Marcus could hear the whirling wind passing behind her as she swooped by, engulfing the building with thick torrents of flame and brief explosions of massive hurling balls that implode with extensive and devastating impacts. Another hit like that from her and Marcus will be sent meters from his spot and possibly killed without her knowing about it; if that: he could be sent floors down into the main sanction of the building. Staggering to his feet Marcus cautiously and frantically made his way through the plumage of smoke, fire and destruction before his body was sent colliding towards the wall as another explosion broke out and ricocheted within the small, condensed and refined space. Gathering to his feet his eyes were doing their best to maintain a stable focus and image for him to move with, but the fire and massive implosions were making it harder for him to maneuver through.

It wasn't enough before another scream shattered the skies above him, a loud wisp of air trailing behind as a massive beast soared above the building, collapsing its walls and shattering down what was left of it standing. Walls broke apart, imploding and blasting outwards around the main perimeter of the building. Men ran out the doors in the attempts to flee and escape from the burning scourge, but the beast let out a monster from beneath its jaws, enveloping the men in a thick, massive flame that swallowed them hole, burning them alive in their desperate attempts; their screams were defined and rendered before slowly coming to a silence as the fire ate them alive and torn them apart. Momentarily moving past the thick beams, the brush of fire and smoke, Marcus made it out alive—for now—with his skin still on his back. There was no rejoice coming from him at all in his attempts to break free and escape, but even then he could feel a discharge of excitement and assurance as he moved with ease from the engulfing destruction, carnage, and horror behind him. Wiping the blood from his forehead, in which traveled down from his brow to his cheek, Marcus stood staring at the crimson sanguine dripping from his finger tips and the side of his wrist. He ignored the blood straining and pooling from his leg, the metallic sheet of metal protruding through the flesh and thin layer of cloth used for his pants. Embracing his body against the wall, his shoulder propped against the solid surface, Marcus let out a breath of relief, returning to his embark he was pursuing earlier before his minor ordeal he was faced with. Pushing off the wall Marcus focused on his footing and made his route down the hallway that seemingly held little to no damage in comparison to the rest of the building, which seemed to be flattened and toppled, crippling at this moment. Slowly coming to a halt, his body frozen and immobile, his fear seemed to have enveloped once more as the hairs at the end of his neck pricked and stood on end. He knew it wasn't over. The sound of a whirling object sounded behind him as a thick piece of metal was hefted in the air and impaled to the back of Marcus' skull, causing him to topple over and collapse instantly towards the ground, blood oozing from the open gash that was vividly seared into his skull. A set of boots tore from the depths of the hall, standing beside the unconscious body of Marcus, a smile delving onto his face—a gruesome and malicious smile filled with satisfaction and no denial. Hefting the steel beam over his shoulders the guard stood with an undying urge, his eyes darting over Marcus' body, the smile deepening and curling. "I've got you now, boy."
Edited by Vaelyis, December 28, 2013, 2:10 am.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
Cody went to make a turn down yet another hallway before the ground shook under them. Confused, the guard stopped and Storm sighed with relief at the chance to at least stop moving his wounded body. Cody didn't lighten his grip on Storm's arm, though. "What was that?" He asked softly, not wanting to call any attention over to them though they could see nothing but running captives and guards, as has been the usual for the past half hour.
Storm hissed. "You're asking me? Yes, let me just explain to you what the hell is going on over in who knows what corridor."
Cody turned and glared at him. "You can't tell me you're not curious. You're always curious about things."
Storm narrowed his eyes. "Oh. So you do care enough to learn things about me. I can't understand why but I always seem to have issues in telling that about you."
Cody narrowed his own eyes in return. "We are not having this argument now, Storm." He jerked Storm forward and the demon winced, forcing a slight flicker of guilt through Cody's eyes though he hid it well. "Come on. If the other guards need help, I'm not letting you be responsible for keeping me from it." He began running through the halls, forcing Storm to keep up the pace. The demon had his arm wrapped tightly around his open wound and his teeth clenched tightly, but followed and kept up nonetheless.
As they skidded around the last corner, both of their eyes widened. "What... the hell... has happened here?!" Cody's voice showed how stunned he was as other guards ran up, also pausing as they took the scene in. The broken pipes and walls, the fires spreading, the blood.
Storm felt a hand grab his other arm and jerk him away from Cody. "You did this, didn't you?! You can't do anything but screw shit up!" Storm's eyes shot open as wide as could be as the man sent a fist into the wound he already had. The demon fell to the floor, shaking and barely able to keep himself on his hands and knees, the fist the guard took back now covered in Storm's blood.
But as soon as Storm's knees hit the tiled floor, Cody's body was crashing into the guard, sending the man stumbling back. "He was with me, idiot! He couldn't have had any part in this!"
"And what makes you so sure, huh, Cody?! It's a demon! Who knows what it can do!"
"He can't do this!"
The argument became nothing more than a dull drone in the background to Storm as he forced himself to ease the curiosity that did, in fact, exist in him while ignoring the pain that coursed through him. Knowing everyone else was well distracted, he let his eyes glow softly as his control of the flames began to reach out. He heightened some and lowered others, moving some and extinguishing others, all to help him see further down the destroyed hallway.
And his crimson eyes widened at what he saw.
In a split second, dust was rising and all fires were hugging the walls, making a clear path(though still covered with the debris) to the scene Storm's eyes had laid upon. The demon dodged every hand that reached out to grab him and jumped over every fallen pipe or wooden pole that lay in his way, his focus on his own wound completely taken to what his eyes were on.
Storm's bloody formed crashed into the man who held the pipe in his hands, sending them both rolling with the pipe flying up into the air. Storm slid into a wall on his side, his back colliding with it while the man slid on a bit more down the hallway on his stomach, the pipe falling on the man's back and bouncing off.
Without waiting for his own body to recuperate, Storm rushed back onto his feet, dancing over the man and grabbing the pipe, throwing it back with the fires, before putting himself between the man and Marcus. He was quite a sight, now. Crouched and growling, his eyes glowing brightly and his fangs and claws showing, his panting hidden. "Try again." He growled out, knowing the consequences of killing this man and also knowing he didn't stand much of a chance right now. The illusion of being strong was what Storm was using because he knew his body really wasn't up to par. That, and he knew all of the guards were out because of the 'jail-break'. And he could hear them running for him now. And though he dreaded being caught again, he knew rules would be followed and that would put Marcus in a safe position. Perhaps caged, but at least safe. And alive. Both things Storm valued very much right now.
Edited by Ice, December 29, 2013, 11:33 pm.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Vaelyis
Member Avatar
an unbreakable soldier
An irritating and blaring ring sounded off within his ears, his eyes drowned and blurred from the concussive aftermath in which nearly dwindled his chances of living into single digits. His hand immediately had pressed firmly against his right side temple lobe, motioning his fingers in a soothing massage around the area, trying to depict whether a concussion was forming or if it were just his imagination. Marcus was more than just a mere soldier, he was a veteran who is fighting a war he couldn't win—and not just a war with himself. He had a lot of catching up to do with Storm, and most of it were deep burdens that lingered to be a fraction of the price he payed for his dues. Storm wasn't just an ally, he was a dear friend to him and seemingly it was quite the sight to see when he knew the pinging Storm had sent him wasn't just a meager bleep of help, but also some form of reassurance. Marcus never allowed others to be his insurance, let alone meat suits in a barbaric way of equally priming his victims to be his sacrifices; he didn't work that way. It's been years since Marcus could remember last seeing Storm, let alone speaking to him. Marcus wasn't himself since their previous meet, let alone feeling the same way he had three or more years ago. Even more some, Marcus was allegedly vicarious and more vain and malevolent than previously stated back in his years. His breathing was heavy and hoarse, keeping his chest still while relying on his lungs to move fluently without rupturing any sprawl of pain. He's been in much worse—so much worse—and this doesn't even take the cake for the amount of agony he's been through. For starters: his leg—it was mechanical. Sparks flared from the mechanical prosthetic which was built by his very best friend, Baird, whom appears to be missing and has been for some time now. His eyebrows rose as he gently rose his leg to test its mobility, to see if there was still some functionality within the mechanical limb and with relief there was. He could feel the gears moving to shift and move the limb to his command without hesitation or flaw, even though it needed desperate repairs due to mild damage to the core panel and the main frame. But all in all: it was usable and still function, and that was enough for him. He rolled his pant leg over the mechanical limb whilst some of it remained revealing through shredding and tearing of the cloth of his dark blue jeans. Squinting his eyes in pain as he prompted both of his palms firmly on the floor, trying in his best to prop himself straight to at least gain leverage at a stand point. Marcus watched as the standing silhouette posed with a guarding position, keeping the guard at bay while he tried to recover from his own point. Slamming his fist angrily against the broken metal sheets on his leg, Marcus presumed it was only fair and resumed to fixating himself and get to a standing position.

Propping his right hand on his knee he allowed to use of his strength and quickly pushed himself upwards to at least find a small amount of leverage to gain mobility and consciousness to stand without having to purge or feel lightheaded. With that, Marcus shook his head and angled himself to where he could see both Storm and the guard, and seemingly the guard was as relentless as he was stupid. Marcus strode forward closer to Storm while gently placing his hand on his shoulder, gesticulating to stand back as he stood against the guard and his idiotic antics. Marcus wasn't weak nor was he a coward; if anyone knew him well, he was full of lifted strength, power, and to the core he was as courageous as most soldiers come in. He was a man of wisdom, grief, and experience; he wasn't just going to let this one go, he was going to see through it—to the end. "You wanted a fight. I'll give you one." The eager man smiled with anticipation and delight, the forwarded ambition almost glowing within his eyes. The brute stood on his muscled legs and body, staring down at Marcus with a casual look any man his size would give against someone of smaller portions—like Marcus. Standing at six feet and two inches, Marcus wasn't the tallest man of his group but he was the most brutal and vile and he knew power and the proportions to use. Size never mattered with him, just the fact that he had more than what could meet the eye. Clenching his hands into solid fists, Marcus cocked a one-sided smirk, his eyes engulfed with electrified amusement as the man cracked his neck in several locations while rolling his shoulders and smiling while doing so. It was a death match to the last man standing, and the brute man before him had no idea whom he was up against, and it wasn't just The King of War alone, it was a mastermind of death and glory. A sin of every color.



Soft strokes of dust fell from the ceiling as massive explosions were set off int he foreground, releasing powerful gusts of damage and destruction as a monstrosity within the sky could only deliver her best intentions of devour the place with her turmoil. Pounding drums of continuous blasts echoed within the distance as fire licked the air, thick stacks of smoke rising with the plumes of screams and pain; the thresh of decimation merely causing an abrupt climax towards the facility and its members. As Storm left the group of men stranded and confused, the fire merely regained control and continued to consume out of hunger and mere power, thirsty for more oxygen and objects to feed on into a crisp. Loud rugged thrums of wing beats blared over the men, gusts of air slipping through the caved room as sparks and flares of ash dwindled in motion around the men, a snaring hiss breeding from beneath the corridors of the room. Before the men could advance, a harrowing beast hurled from the reinforced walls and ceiling, crashing down and using her body and weight combined to haul herself through the destroyed building. Wings propped and folded above her spine, her attention was grasped as one of the guards decided to make notion towards his sheath, revealing a double bladed weapon. Her grits were more than eager surprises, seeing as she was the one causing all of this destruction and havoc. Arching her neck as the scales glinted with a glossy texture, the dark abyss of sheer black and indigo cascading a luminous mixture of hallow despondence and death. Clenched her jaw the lips of her maw curled back to reveal the serrated rows of canines and sharp bone, stained from years of blood and war. Two distinguished scars adorned the top of her muzzle whilst a few bloomed with lambency upon her left shoulder and hind quarter, spine, underbelly and lower chest cavity. She was a soldier like her rider, and not only that: but a Mother. A Mother of her species. Parting her jaws with rapid pace as one of the men drew closer and launched himself towards her, her body was immediately tossed upwards to a hulking and towering stance as she stood on her haunches, wings thrown and spreading outwards as she carried an aggressive, shattering, and mortified roar. The flesh between the jaws fanning and spreading out fully as she spread the weight of her maw, her teeth glinting from the fair thin layer of light, a roaring repercussion of conducted and electrified shriek boomed and escalated in pitch as a mortified scream harrowed from the depths of her maw, the lengthy pitch deepening and expanding to a deep toned and emasculated octave. The flesh within her maw was raw, fluid and fleshy: every detail from her tongue, the roof of her mouth, to the very skin holding her jaws together and the details of the gums were enough to spread terror within the men.

Her teeth were shown as thick piercing drones of bone protruding out from the gums, specifically meant not just for the art of fear but also to rip, tear and masticate anything that came in close contact of their proximity. Saliva dripped and dangled from the roof of her mouth, tongue and jaws, strings flying outwards as the air from her throat pushed out the aggressive roar that tore through her mouth and escalated with a deep, harrowing tone. As if it weren't enough, the inside of her maw was real: it was raw flesh, blood, muscle and bone. The saliva drawing out a glossy texture to the flesh only to create a horrid view of terror before them once the beast engaged the primal and instinctive predatory rage. The shroud of her wings were thrown from her spine and expanded outwards to reveal the finger-like wings that allowed the beast flight, the webbing between each finger stretched and strained as she quickly flared her wings in a defensive manner. She was nothing like the beasts they're used to: dogs, cats, or any other predatory animal. She was larger, quicker and even then more malicious and deadly. Dragons weren't just a myth or fairy tale, no, she was the real deal. The men stood in horror as the dragon made her appearance known to them, her eyes flicking to Cody whom stood gulping on his saliva which had been trapped within his throat, the coating of terror surfacing his eyes. Her extremities were guard with thick rows of plated scale which lined a majority of her body, let alone anything over the flesh and muscle. Her chest was broad and heavy, the muscles protruding outwards with her robust and well toned scheme. She was taking in her own defensive action to protect the one thing that means most to her, and that was Marcus, and Storm if you put their history into play. If anything, they'd have to get past her if they want Storm so badly and they're risking their lives if they want to try and pursue against a dragon with immortal and deadly odds to her favor. The scars adorning her scales quickly illuminated with life, a molded crimson shade brewing from beneath the flesh to flare up the colors with an incandescent light. Her eyes reflected the state of rage as they blared the colors of various shades of red and black, each being a color of her perspective and nature. Neither one of the men darted forward in a face-off with the dragon, seeing as they're so used to demons or beasts much smaller than her, and dragons were accused to being non-existent in some cases. She only seemed smaller than most dragons because she wasn't at her full height, she remained crouched and lowered in a defensive position, her tail lurched and stiffened near her body as it slightly swayed from side to side. Her back was at a thick arch while the reflection of her scales gave off her emasculated sheen, her anger coursing and represented without hesitation.

Holding her own her attention was grasped as she felt the sheer presence of both Marcus and Storm, whom weren't close by but also not too far out of her reach. She wasn't just here to make herself aware and known, but also to get the two of them out of her before something else became a bigger problem and she already felt the lingering beast looming closer and closer to their position. Tearing her sights from Cody and the men, Synile brushed herself through the flames and debris, her massive weight and power not showing any issues of restraint to slow her down. She was a brute of her size and weight, and with all that combined in one she could easily manpower herself to barrel through walls thicker than her own hide. The beams bent at her will from the massive weight inclining on them as she pushed through, looming closer to Marcus and Storm whom confronted the guard without further thought, Marcus' inclined hysterics leading him to his idiotic actions. The guard stood and rose his arm before his eyes had met with the titan standing behind Marcus, her size coming out in full as she stood to her full proportions and fixed height. Fear gripped the man like Death on a corpse, not intending to let go or free itself from the host. Marcus felt the breath of warm, steaming air brush over his head and skin as the smell of death closed in. Marcus didn't have to turn around to know who it was, their bond was thick and tied; her presence was neither quiet nor loud to him: it was calming and conductive, and he automatically could tell when she was around or nearby just by the sound of her heart beat or the shine of her luminous orb, which can only be presented or seen by the bonded the dragon had made a pact to. Before Synile could even take a second step, a hurling massive weight hauled through the walls, flattening them down from its massive and impenetrable weight, causing itself to trample in a take-down as Synile was immediately hauled off and carried away by the beast. The weight had slammed into her left flank, knocking her off balance and into the next room, the beast leaping within the air to trample her down once more. Gusts of smoke and debris was left behind, unaware of her presence as the lucid monstrosity attacked without warning or sign. Taken back, Marcus glanced over at Storm and quickly exchanged a glance of surprise yet bordering concern, unaware of the destruction around them. The calming alarm of his body radiated a swift promise of hope as he stood motionless with distraught in his eyes, whilst fear slowly slipped in and consumed him. Synile was a tough beast for her size and power, but even then both of them were weak enough apart as opposed to being together in the same proximity of one another.

The guard quickly took his chance and advanced towards Marcus, but with the surging amount of rage escalating through his body, it was enough to light his fuse—and the clock began to tick, counting down. The blooming scorn of crimson, ruse, and vermilion bordered his eyes with a reddened rage, a dark shade of burgundy and ebony etched within and around the iris, changing the white sclera into a carnage induced shade. Both of his eyes were separate shades of color, and he watched the fear grip Storm like a constricting python, almost taken back as he watched his friend become something more other than a being with morals. Marcus has changed drastically since they've last encountered one another, and it was simply because he wasn't protecting himself: he was protecting them... from himself. As Marcus slowly turned, he watched as Storm's eyes caught a glimpse of an etched symbol within the flesh of his arm, which only faded from his sight once it was removed from his glance as Marcus quickly turned to face the guard. The symbol seemed to look like an ordinary scar that had suffered from a massive wound that healed incorrectly, almost like a bubbled burn upon the skin. The right side of his face became the mere instant of who he was: a monster of all proportions. Thin vein-like striations ran in streaks from and around his eye, a faint glow brimming underneath the flesh near the eye socket and cheek bone, almost like a light had been pressed against his flesh from the inside. The faint luminous glow had only shown around the right eye socket and cheek bone, leaving the left side of his face barren and absent while the veins ran down and inked towards the neck and ending midway. His right eye took on a different aspect of color as it grew a beacon of shredded hope, engulfed shades of orange, ruse, and crimson forming within the mixture that presumed was the iris. Within the center of his pupil a ray of piercing light slowly went from a dim light to a lambent beacon like an activation code had been entered, and the monster was released from its cage, revealing the beast for its true form. The sclera (which is the white part of the eye) had been consumed by a shade of soft gray-ebony, flecks of crimson melting within the abyss of his eyes while the consumption of enraged color blossomed with loud hues. The infused symbol upon his wrist came alive once the monster inside had been reborn, burning down its tethers and chains, breaking down the gates to stand in a shroud of death and war.

The etched symbol flared with an angelic glow, blooming hues of a golden orange, ruse and carmine. As it matched his eyes indefinitely, Marcus took on a whole new aspect and being; he wasn't himself, no, he was someone else. He was still Marcus, but his conscience was composed of two beings: himself and an unnamed silhouette that presumed to be his former self in which he hid from. His own inner demon that was a monster of all forms of dementia, aggression, and death. He was deadly and virulent, and that was enough to be mortified. He was all shades of sin and fear, and he knew well enough to use it properly. The guard stepped back as Marcus expressed his true colors, making them present and known between the man and Storm alone; he was a disfigured portrait, a titan whom had collapsed and became a corrupted piece within a display of paintings. He was condemned to the very bone as a burden became a rotting core, infecting each and every portion of his body. All hope was lost from the moment he reprimanded his decisions years back, and even then: it may have been the best decision he's ever made. A cocky smile loomed upon his face, breaking past the edges and corners of his mouth to show off the smirk that registered a sinister look. Lambent veins quickly striated from the symbol etched into his flesh, the same luminous glow appearing beneath the skin as did near his right eye socket. As it was full submerged under the muscle and flesh, it still remained a fading yet dastardly glow that gave off a sheer color of infection and corruption. The veins were submersed and inked in a blanketing darkness of a crimson and charcoal-black, the golden-orange and ruse brewing beneath the skin like a submerged light just underneath the muscle and thin flesh. The guard could only give Marcus a second look of perplexity, his eyes forwarding a mere sudden and abrupt aggressive within them while molding his face into a cringed and wrinkled look of angst and anger. Marcus didn't take any more half-measures this time, his conscience merely ended all thought and emotion, eradicating the idea of sympathy and remorse. With a quick smirk on his face, Marcus merely infused himself with the monster living inside of him, and his conscience alone. With a raise of a brow and a mere flick of his wrist, the man's head had twisted while the neck snapping in several locations, causing the large brute to drop quickly with his dead weight trailing behind. Removing his eyes from the lifeless corpse, he flicked his attention over to Storm, a recognition of emotion flowing through his eyes as he watched his friend merely with no sign of anger or greed. He was content and calm. He wouldn't harm Storm, even if his conscience told him to do so: he was better than that. Much, much better than that, even if Storm didn't feel comfortable or safe, Marcus wouldn't condone himself of such actions and he knew if it lead to anything of all means, he would isolate and secure himself from all others. Marcus could tell the difference between friend and foe, he wasn't stupid nor blind. Storm could be as safe and secure as possible, and Marcus was only showing his gratitude for Storm showing up and saving his hide. Marcus' actions and eyes said the two words for him, emitting the gracious and tender phrase without having to say any of the words.
Thank you.

He knew Storm picked up on Marcus' body language and didn't have to say much, but even in times like this: words meant less while body language was a key part of communication. Without speaking a word, Marcus resumed to his open conscience as his eyes quickly darted over to the massive hole within the wall in which Synile had taken a fallout. He felt Storm's hand tug slightly at his shoulder, knowing that his only oppression to know where she was and what her condition is. With their link caught at a diffused loss or disconnection, he couldn't get in contact with her while her mind remained closed and blocked, almost sealed and guarded and that was never a good sign. If she was in severe pain or condition he would have felt it, but seemingly he felt nothing. He felt fine and stable, content even. Looking over to Storm he reassured the demon and began to process the situation: he needed to find Synile and get them the hell out of the place before even more trouble aroused.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ice
Leader
Storm knew Marcus' immediate goal would be to get Synile back. Why wouldn't it be? Storm hadn't seen Synile in ages and even he was worried for her. Who the hell was that that took her? But his worries were limited as he focused on Marcus' seeming change. He could sense it and his newly colored eyes showed it clearer than anything else. I should really find more stable friends. He thought to himself but he made note to move away a bit, not trusting Marcus not to go after him and the demon knew very good and well that he was far from able to stand against Marcus in his current state. Subconsciously, he wrapped his arm around his wound again, protecting the sensitive and pained area as best he could as he watched Marcus quickly get rid of the guard that stood against them. Storm held his breath as Marcus turned to look at him. His hand hovered at his side where his knife usually lived but did not thanks to the guards having disarmed him. Relief relaxed his shoulders as he saw no threat coming from Marcus towards him. He can actually... control who his target is now? He didn't dare try pushing his luck so he made no advance to the man. Still, he couldn't help but give his infamous smirk as they finally had a quiet moment to speak to one another. "Long time no see." But his tone became quite sincere after that. "Thanks for coming. You really saved my ass." He indicated down the corridor. "If we can get to Narasu, we can get to Synile. I can't exactly do that alone. And I have no idea where he is." He hissed, turning without hesitation and going to the dead guard nearest them, searching for any form of weapon. Fortunately, a nice sword was at the man's hip. The crimson eyes glanced at Marcus. "You were planning on taking me with you, right?" He gave a mocking smile but his eyes showed true curiosity.

Storm rose to his feet again, with a slight struggle. "If we can just mow them down...." He said, his eyes becoming bright as the fires began coming under his control. In a swift movement, the flames rose high and moved to dive down-

His newly gained sword fell to the floor as his head hit the wall, a throat to his neck, ringing in his ears. After gaining focus, he saw Cody's face before him. "No! I will get you to your damn dragon but you do not kill anymore than necessary, Storm!"

Storm growled. "I'm sorry, would you rather me run? Because I don't think I could fucking keep up!" He snapped as his stretched-out position burned the gash in his stomach.

Cody's voice did not gain any hint of fear but lowered to a threatening tone. "Do you want your dragon or not."

The demon's eyes narrowed and silence was swallowed by the roaring of the uncontrolled flames. Finally, "Cross me and your life will be the first I take."

Cody gave a single curt nod before backing off of the injured demon. He took a few steps back, making room for Marcus to aid Storm rather than himself, knowing it would not be welcomed by either of them. "He will be in one of the rooms underground. Do you want to try to handle the corridors or do you all have a faster way?" He asked, having no other options of his own as he began moving down the corridor they were in, away from the fire and the other guards who had been on their way. He struggled to keep a slow enough pace for Storm and Marcus to keep up with but fast enough so they could at least stay ahead. At this rate, though, there will be no staying ahead. There has got to be some other way.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Syntille · Next Topic »
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1

Useful Links
Nyrvyria
Nyrvyria Registry
Gears of War Rp
Outline Skin Forum
Zathyus Networks