Did Satori care about her bodily fluids?
Not really.
The Princess of Darkness wasn’t particularly fond of losing anything that belonged to her without some kind of reprisal; be it a pair of eyes, a layer of skin, or blood. But she was a creature of greed and vice. When push came to shove she didn’t need her bodily fluids beyond familiarity. Not that she would be losing much of it this time around. The Pater’s tail wound around her throat only to be sliced into a fine bloody mist over the course of several seconds and when the thread had passed Satori sported a ring of raw red flesh around her throat. The Primeval’s hopes that somehow blood pressure would succeed where earth shattering blows, hypersonic exchanges, and ancient magic had failed were soundly dashed…
At the end of the day Satori’s biology wasn’t so flimsy, obviously, or she would have ceased functioning when her eyes popped inside of her head. The same thing went for the Pater.
One problem had been solved and a handful others opened up. Timing however wasn’t an issue with Satori whose ability to perceive at high speeds from multiple angles made it nigh impossible to catch her off guard while her versatile power set made dominate spacing. The last daughter was well and truly playing a game of chess, taking her time to move accordingly and sadistically removing options from the other side of the board, and so far the Pater had done nothing but shake the proverbial cup and hope the dice came up Yahtzee. By attacking from multiple angles at once he was one step closer to figuring out her game but just acknowledging that there was a board with pieces on it was not enough. After all, at least you could get lucky with dice...
A tongue came for her thigh and a claw reached for her calf. To that Satori answered not with retreat but with the small set of secondary wings at the base of her spine, currently at rest with their length stretched along the back of her thighs. They hadn’t done a whole lot throughout this brief but intense exchange. They had no skeletal fingers to grab with or leathery membrane to defend with. They were in fact made up of a single solid shadow each with the shape of a wedge and that was that. But that was fine because they were largely reactionary, as their positioning might have implied, and always ready to defend her lower body.
Both wings whirled around her hips and extended into a set of barbed spears. The right one would strike the Pater’s tongue from the side, easily diverting its course, and close to the tip so as to avoid sudden dodges. It would be nailed to the ground likely through the offending wing. The clawed hand at her calf wasn’t as much of a threat given that it only sought to grab but the reaction was both simultaneous and ergonomic. The second spear would drive through the Pater’s wrist and nail his entire arm to the floor. Though there was more weight to these shadows than the fine blades her upper wings had become it was safe to assume that contact without defense would result in penetration.
Meanwhile Satori’s upper wings, finished with their assault, turned inwards. Two more simultaneous stabs with her upper wings, still sharp as the night itself and impossibly multi-edged, thrust their primary fingers towards the Pater’s gleaming black eyes. The distance was negligible and with the beats locked against her hammer escape was improbable. If contact was made those fingers would curl themselves inside of the Pater’s eye-sockets, digging into his skull before solidifying in proper, while its ancillary fingers shoved themselves rudely into the Pater’s mouth and did the same with his jaw.
Was all of this necessary? Not in the least, because the fight was already over.
Somehow someway Magna Pater’s slime covered skin had been enough to stop Satori’s backswing. When a similar such swing had already blown its arm clean off the beast had allowed the blow to land on his shoulder and apparently the goo was enough to absorb the kinetic force therein. What it had neglected to do anything about was the thrumming storm of electricity that surrounded the Verdissian Warhammer. Unless there was a supernatural element keeping the Pater’s mucus in place then the slime that coated its entire body was already in the process of both melting and igniting from the sustained thunderstorm. An act that also served to break apart those molecular bonds that gave the slime the structural integrity it needed to stave off blows.
So the Father of Vampires had elder magic in his snot that only activated itself for threats more dire than bone shattering boulders and violent explosions? It didn’t matter, not really, because the storm had finally arrived.
The Verdissian’s had been mentioned more than once but who were they? Far away from Guild Space the Verdissian Empire was an aggressive war machine that relentlessly expanded their borders. Part of their success came from the fact that the Verdissian people were actually made up of three to six (depending on one’s view of taxonomy) distinct species that had diverged from the Verdissian evolutionary line. The chaotic clash of cultures that resulted was part of what kept Verdissian culture from descending into the state of complacency that had doomed so many species for them. But like any sentient species they had myths and legends, one of which Satori had met…
Koen Blackspeed who had sacrificed his throne for freedom. And depending on what police report you read Satori had either mugged, seduced, or fooled the wayward prince into bequeathing her with his greatest weapon; the holy Solar Hammers. In reality it was more like they had become friends and she had taken advantage of his kindness. He also hadn’t given her the hammers themselves, despite the fact that she carried a Warhammer, so much as a fraction of their essence. The enigma known as Quaking Fire, so hot that it could defy the universe itself, a purging flame from which they were no escape. The world turned white and with it the first tongues of Quaking Fire emerged, shattering the structure of conventional space and then slipping through the cracks, only to emerge at random all throughout the Plague Forest in hot bursts that evaporated everything they touched. Meanwhile the Pater’s dark taint was set to be purged from this plane, the elder mucus swept away and venomous blood cleaned out as fires ruthlessly emerged inside of the Primeval’s body where they had no business being, why even the Pater’s eternally reincarnating soul was in danger before the holy artifact.
Along the way, pointlessly so, Satori’s ancillary wings had anchored themselves to the ground after their attacks and now jerked her around. This in turn restarted the sweeping motion of her strike, aiding the Verdissian Warhammer in passing through the Pater’s neck while its head was held in place for a handy decapitation.
The game was over, had been over for some time, and the players were all out of quarters. All that was left was to mash the start button until the timer finally hit zero.
Not really.
The Princess of Darkness wasn’t particularly fond of losing anything that belonged to her without some kind of reprisal; be it a pair of eyes, a layer of skin, or blood. But she was a creature of greed and vice. When push came to shove she didn’t need her bodily fluids beyond familiarity. Not that she would be losing much of it this time around. The Pater’s tail wound around her throat only to be sliced into a fine bloody mist over the course of several seconds and when the thread had passed Satori sported a ring of raw red flesh around her throat. The Primeval’s hopes that somehow blood pressure would succeed where earth shattering blows, hypersonic exchanges, and ancient magic had failed were soundly dashed…
At the end of the day Satori’s biology wasn’t so flimsy, obviously, or she would have ceased functioning when her eyes popped inside of her head. The same thing went for the Pater.
One problem had been solved and a handful others opened up. Timing however wasn’t an issue with Satori whose ability to perceive at high speeds from multiple angles made it nigh impossible to catch her off guard while her versatile power set made dominate spacing. The last daughter was well and truly playing a game of chess, taking her time to move accordingly and sadistically removing options from the other side of the board, and so far the Pater had done nothing but shake the proverbial cup and hope the dice came up Yahtzee. By attacking from multiple angles at once he was one step closer to figuring out her game but just acknowledging that there was a board with pieces on it was not enough. After all, at least you could get lucky with dice...
A tongue came for her thigh and a claw reached for her calf. To that Satori answered not with retreat but with the small set of secondary wings at the base of her spine, currently at rest with their length stretched along the back of her thighs. They hadn’t done a whole lot throughout this brief but intense exchange. They had no skeletal fingers to grab with or leathery membrane to defend with. They were in fact made up of a single solid shadow each with the shape of a wedge and that was that. But that was fine because they were largely reactionary, as their positioning might have implied, and always ready to defend her lower body.
Both wings whirled around her hips and extended into a set of barbed spears. The right one would strike the Pater’s tongue from the side, easily diverting its course, and close to the tip so as to avoid sudden dodges. It would be nailed to the ground likely through the offending wing. The clawed hand at her calf wasn’t as much of a threat given that it only sought to grab but the reaction was both simultaneous and ergonomic. The second spear would drive through the Pater’s wrist and nail his entire arm to the floor. Though there was more weight to these shadows than the fine blades her upper wings had become it was safe to assume that contact without defense would result in penetration.
Meanwhile Satori’s upper wings, finished with their assault, turned inwards. Two more simultaneous stabs with her upper wings, still sharp as the night itself and impossibly multi-edged, thrust their primary fingers towards the Pater’s gleaming black eyes. The distance was negligible and with the beats locked against her hammer escape was improbable. If contact was made those fingers would curl themselves inside of the Pater’s eye-sockets, digging into his skull before solidifying in proper, while its ancillary fingers shoved themselves rudely into the Pater’s mouth and did the same with his jaw.
Was all of this necessary? Not in the least, because the fight was already over.
Somehow someway Magna Pater’s slime covered skin had been enough to stop Satori’s backswing. When a similar such swing had already blown its arm clean off the beast had allowed the blow to land on his shoulder and apparently the goo was enough to absorb the kinetic force therein. What it had neglected to do anything about was the thrumming storm of electricity that surrounded the Verdissian Warhammer. Unless there was a supernatural element keeping the Pater’s mucus in place then the slime that coated its entire body was already in the process of both melting and igniting from the sustained thunderstorm. An act that also served to break apart those molecular bonds that gave the slime the structural integrity it needed to stave off blows.
So the Father of Vampires had elder magic in his snot that only activated itself for threats more dire than bone shattering boulders and violent explosions? It didn’t matter, not really, because the storm had finally arrived.
The Verdissian’s had been mentioned more than once but who were they? Far away from Guild Space the Verdissian Empire was an aggressive war machine that relentlessly expanded their borders. Part of their success came from the fact that the Verdissian people were actually made up of three to six (depending on one’s view of taxonomy) distinct species that had diverged from the Verdissian evolutionary line. The chaotic clash of cultures that resulted was part of what kept Verdissian culture from descending into the state of complacency that had doomed so many species for them. But like any sentient species they had myths and legends, one of which Satori had met…
Koen Blackspeed who had sacrificed his throne for freedom. And depending on what police report you read Satori had either mugged, seduced, or fooled the wayward prince into bequeathing her with his greatest weapon; the holy Solar Hammers. In reality it was more like they had become friends and she had taken advantage of his kindness. He also hadn’t given her the hammers themselves, despite the fact that she carried a Warhammer, so much as a fraction of their essence. The enigma known as Quaking Fire, so hot that it could defy the universe itself, a purging flame from which they were no escape. The world turned white and with it the first tongues of Quaking Fire emerged, shattering the structure of conventional space and then slipping through the cracks, only to emerge at random all throughout the Plague Forest in hot bursts that evaporated everything they touched. Meanwhile the Pater’s dark taint was set to be purged from this plane, the elder mucus swept away and venomous blood cleaned out as fires ruthlessly emerged inside of the Primeval’s body where they had no business being, why even the Pater’s eternally reincarnating soul was in danger before the holy artifact.
Along the way, pointlessly so, Satori’s ancillary wings had anchored themselves to the ground after their attacks and now jerked her around. This in turn restarted the sweeping motion of her strike, aiding the Verdissian Warhammer in passing through the Pater’s neck while its head was held in place for a handy decapitation.
The game was over, had been over for some time, and the players were all out of quarters. All that was left was to mash the start button until the timer finally hit zero.