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11 days ago
Current What the fuck are you people talking about
13 days ago
Check the file type and then just refresh maybe
13 days ago
worse statuses have been posted
17 days ago
Sometimes I forget you were ever fucking on this site at all and it gives me whiplash
3 mos ago
Absolutely fucking not
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Bio



I invented necromancy and the windmill. I beat the sun in a poker match during the summer of 1273 and God hasn't felt the same since.


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These guys went down pretty easily, and Cora was feeling pretty good about her little magic show with Zach. She flowed through the purple clouds and watched him knock a dude out- a holy shit, he could throw a punch! Okay, so far so good. Cora would’ve wished this could’ve been a bit more sneaky. But then again, they were raiding this place in broad daylight. The best they could do now was take advantage of the surprise attack while it was a surprise.

Four of them were going inside… Cora had an idea. She couldn’t fight in confined spaces around others, it would’ve risked blinding someone. But she could get in her natural element.

”I’m goin’ above, so take cover,” she announced, over the channel. Stormcaller floated higher and higher above the building, high over it where she could see the whole battlefield. Her skin stung with static, but she’d manage for now. That was an awfully big compound, it had to be hot in there in a climate like this. Cora could imagine they had to have some kind of AC system in there, something she could sabotage and maybe spit out dust. Or maybe she could get inside and use that other advantage.

Looking behind her, that ominous green blob was still behind her. ”Make sure you’re looking over your shoulders, there’s a green thing being sneaky,” she announced over the channel.

If she had to guess, the big important stuff was likely to be in a central location or on a subfloor. It wouldn’t do much, but just for good measure, she floated closer and fired off some rather loud strikes of lightning at exposed fans on the roof, the kind that brought cool air into the rest of the building. It could scare someone, maybe spit out dust and choke them. Or maybe they’d get heatstroke.

Small things added up, right?

”Stormcaller comin’ in. I’m working on wrecking their AC. If you smoke ‘em out, they’ll have nowhere to go if they bunker down in the central areas. I might be able to get through the vents and ambush somebody.”
In SPIRITUM 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




One by one, the beasts fell. Etherium caught fire, Valerie took a mean shot, and the others were preparing to deal with these monsters before anyone else got hurt. And personally? Morden considered his chances against even the biggest ones to be pretty damn decent considering how he just exhumed himself out of one. Civilians and his own squad, on the other hand? Not so much. The fucking princess decided to engage them, which was fundamentally a stupid decision in more than one way. Either they had to account for the liability now, or factor her into battle strategies they couldn't just rewrite on the fly. So Morden decided to ignore that.

He let his shotgun fall out of his mist pocket, and ran to the grenades that had been knocked free of the truck. Strange to have this stuff, but alas. He loaded sabots into the breach, and collected a singular grenade. Morden had an idea in mind, one that wouldn't outright kill the biggest of the sharks, but would make it a hell of a lot harder for it to kill them.

There will be an explosion, do not be alarmed. I am going to blind the creature.

With a righteous, one-handed chk-chk of his shotgun, Morden bit down on the pin of the grenade (in a way only a mist-roided WARDEN could, Hollywood be damned) and used all of his strength to hurl it at the ground, and bounce it at the landshark. The fuse was ignited, and between that and the sheer force with which he threw it, the grenade went BANG a few inches before making contact with the landshark's face.

The point of this was to make the landshark move its head in just such a way that Morden could predict it, so when it recoiled from the cluster of shrapnel and the flash, and its eyes went open again, Morden aimed small.

He knew it wouldn't be enough to put this thing down, but with all the chaos happening, the landshark's options would be severely limited. It was a raging animal, not a trained fight. If pushed came to shove, it would just run, most likely. Morden pressed forward and repeatedly fired his shotgun, aiming the sabots at the small eyes to gouge them out. How could it fight back if it couldn't tell where it was? There was still the one harassing Silje, but this was a start.

Blind them. Cripple them. Drive. Them. BACK, he communicated. Use your environment, worry less about killing them.


Unlike Wiseman’s dumb motherfucker of a writer, the hero himself knew what Backup was getting at by calling him “Frankincense.” One more people deluded into thinking he was a mage, apparently.

”They would not go to this much trouble if there was no ulterior motive here. I was trapped in the room with the doctor, they knew to isolate me. But their plan was flawed.” Of course he knew the point wasn’t to take them out. After all, this attack would escalate if someone died.

They were being harassed just enough to stay engaged without retreating or winning easily. ”This is a distraction.” He wheeled around and blasted the flying drone out of the sky, sending it down into the street below in a frosty ball of vapor. He kept an eye out for anything sneaking up on them.

”Our options are to regroup with the others, or press the advantage we have to look for their reinforcements. It is most likely Gholem, but we don’t know yet.” Wiseman had a feeling he knew which one Backup preferred, but he thought he’d outline it regardless.

”What do you think?”



The whole god damn building was starting to cave into the fire. By now, there was no hope of saving it. But maybe something would be rebuilt here, out of the ashes. Humans were tenacious animals, they lived long enough as a whole to know when someone should be cut away as rot from a tree. Mire caught a ride along the gigantic flesh dragon that Freakshow had become, and elected to retreat that way.

"They will die and return to the earth. Nothing in that pit of stone should be mourned" the fungal abomination said. "One day, you humans will return here and build something over the bones of these creatures, and they'll feed what grows in place of this "plant." Nothing was lost today, only changed."

They were a cryptic, unknowable creature, but Mire had lived for centuries. They knew the cycle of life on the same foundational level that humans understood breathing and hunger. Perhaps the fire would spread, or pollute the air with what was used to build the plant. Perhaps someone would come looking and fall into the pit, never to be seen again. But death was just a turning of the page in the grand scheme of the earth. Millions of years ago, mountains were killed and rotted away into what humans called soil, and yet flowers bloomed all the same.

"Now let's leave this place, I've killed enough of them for one day."


Location: Gym
Skills: N/A





”You piece of god damn shit-“ Leah was less than thrilled to hear that Arcade tried to trap them in. Or that he was going to, whichever the fuck it was. There was enough they all had to deal with already, and he just had to launch a villain arc.

”Alright, you know what! Fuck you, Ed.” Leah reached out and wet her hand in Framework tanks, and drew out runes on the ground. Kenaz for fire, uruz for power, and raidho for movement. ”You want to play dirty, I will too.”

She stood back up straight and swung her foot at the ground where the runes had been written, and a small explosion of heat was sent flying at Arcade as if Leah had just kicked a soccer ball, scorching him on the spot.

All of the fear that had gripped Dorian's heart moments ago, was now gone. That time-line abandoned as he moved backwards and was now simply playing a game once more. Then, everything went dark. It was like his senses got a Kickstart and suddenly the world came into view with one large gasp of air as the water drained from his tank. His vision was fuzzy, but he could clearly see as others began to ready up for an Arcade smackdown. He could hear Arcade practically begging for his life as the others began to enclose.

Dorian needed to act fast. One hand gripped one side of his tank, while the other gripped the other side, helping pull himself out as he tried to wrap his mind around what all was going on. He made a mental headcount and then -
Heat blazed in the room nearby as fire hurt Arcade and Leah did some weird mystical shit that he didn't know she could. That was enough to kick him into gear. Dorian quickly vanished, going ghost as he flew threw everyone in the room, chills running through them in an attempt to cool them all down before stopping right before Arcade and coming back into view with his arms spread wide. ” ‘Ave you all lost your mind?!” His eyes darted pointedly at Leah.

”Move, Dorian!” She shouted. ”I should’ve known this prick was up to no good, spending so much time here alone! I’m gonna shatter you like fucking glass, Ed!”

”No! Arcade made a mistake, took a wrong turn. But everyone deserves a chance!” Dorian said as he stayed firmly between Leah and Arcade. ” ‘eroes don't go around shatterin’ ot'ers like glass. ‘E's lost, defenseless, and cowerin’. I say we take ‘im in and allow ‘im to reform.”

”Why, so he can break his way out and someone else defenseless again?! Didn’t hear what Zari just said? got back from rewinding time because he tried to kill us all! He knew what he was doing, he made that choice, and I don’t care if it didn’t happen yet! He’ll just do it again.”

”So many ot'ers have fallen down t'e way too! Erik, Wanda, Pietro, even Pyro who is now a world's best seller! We can't go and kill or shatter anyone because we feel t’reatened. T’at's not what ‘eroes do! We ‘ave to do better, be better. Offer ‘im a chance to right ‘is wrongs and become t’e ‘ero t’is school knew ‘e could be! If you do t’is…you're no better t’an a bully or a villain. Beatin’ down on t’ose who can fight.”

Leah’s face twisted into a scowl. What the hell did Dorian know about villains? ”Villains? People like that are the reason why I’m here in the first place! We could’ve died in there if that lasted long enough! You think he’d beg for a second chance if he won?”

”I t'ink ‘e'd deserve it.” Dorian said with finality and grit in his voice. ”We turn ‘im and Usagi in for what t’ey ‘ave done. T’ey can do time, and since ‘e's young enough…I ‘ope reflect on what t'ey've done and become a better person from it. All it takes is four or five moments to become a ‘ero. T'is is one of t'em Leah, don't pass it up.”

The ground under everyone’s feet trembled.

Leah glared a hole through Dorian. He didn’t know what it was like to watch people die the way she did. He didn’t know how it felt being too slow to save someone’s life.

Her hands balled up into fists, and she contemplated burying Arcade a mile beneath the school with her powers.

”Fine.”

Every muscle inside of Dorians body was tense. He didn't know how she would react. But he knew in a contest of strength he was done for. Still, his heels were dug into the floor as he tried to stand strong against her until finally, it seemed she'd caved. A single word, uttered almost like a threat. An unspoken sentence lingering behind it, telling him that if Arcade didn't turn around, if he did kill others, that it would be on Dorians head. He didn't like that thought. But his father always taught him that everyone deserved a chance to change and be good. ”Thank You.” He looked towards the others, hoping they'd follow Leah's example and not attack.

Leah turned around and left the room, walking off to get out of this suit and back into her regular clothes.


Backup had the same idea as him. That wasn’t a surprise, and it made this easier. She had gone ahead and taken a fight to the thugs at the roof, which Wiseman elected to use to his advantage. He scaled the building slowly on purpose, letting Backup soften them into easier beatdowns, before finally hopping up behind the helicopter and drawing his Stasis Blaster. All of them were on Backup, meaning absolutely none of them noticed as the other hero aimed a rifle at their bodies to stun them. Freezing bolts of energy went flying out from behind the helicopter, putting the battered henchmen out of the fight.

And then, just for good measure, Wiseman dropped a few shots into the hammer to scramble its internals. The metal exterior crackled and popped as ice formed over it, breaking up whatever was underneath.

”When we are finished with them, I’ll take the hammer to pieces and find whoever had a hand in this,” Wiseman said aloud, once the fighting stopped. ”Don’t damage it further. It should stop functioning any second no-“

He was cut short as a drone flew overhead and descended on a nearby building. It had some sort of structure it was carrying, which reshaped into a floor-mounted turret remarkably fast. It moved and fired slowly, but only at Backup. Foolish.

Wiseman raised his rifle and fired a shot into the barrel of its weapon first, to weaken it and cause structural damage. A second shot was quickly fired into the base of the turret, where its head met its body, to damage internal components. The Stasis Blaster was a freeze ray, and machines that large which had moving parts didn’t do so well when exposed to biting temperatures. Metal shrunk in on itself, water condensed and seeped into circuity, and cracked could form in materials unable to flex. Electrical capacitors lost their energy as well, and that was why this weapon worked so well against machines.

”We need to reestablish communication with the others. This attack was coordinated by someone clever, they knew we’d be divided today.”


Wiseman shut his screens off when both Fallout and Magician stepped out into the waiting room. The self-aggrandizing runecaster disappeared in a puff of smoke, and Wiseman stood up to walk into the office of the doctor. He had gone over answers to this roughly three hundred and seven times in his head during the last five minutes, calculated to give as much of a disarming impression as was possible. This was going to be an uneventful interview, the doctor would think nothing was up. She-

As the lights went out, Wiseman stopped moving towards the chair. These sorts of things were unusual for a building constructed with government funding. There were no routine maintenance checks for the day, he would've known about them beforehand. Nothing within the bounds of the ordinary. So it was no surprise that the doctor fell limp as she touched the door handle. His helmet snapped towards her, as he engaged the IR function of his helmet. No one was in the room with them, the voltage mode showed it was just the handle, another stupid security measure that someone failed to realize worked both ways. Oracle did not mention the possibility of this occurring, so she must not have realized it with her powers.

The TV off to the side began to act up, and Wiseman patiently listened to the unrecognizable voice on the other end. His gaze locked onto the programs and tabs shown on the screen, as if someone didn't take into account the fact that he had a perfect memory. He'd worry about those little glimpses later, when this wasn't the main problem.

"Apologies for the intrusion. I simply need to keep you contained in order to prevent you from interfering with my plans. And also from escaping the range of the signal blocker. Please remain seated. Hey, but at least I got you out of therapy, right? That should count for something."

Ah.

Wiseman flipped through the filters on his helmet and confirmed with his own eye that there was a heavy layer of radio waves flooding this room. Attempting to call for backup would have been useless, and someone clearly had the good sense to broadcast over the TV instead of the computer, lest he find a log and trace his way back. And he couldn't call for Angel-5 to check the doctor for electrical burns.

"...Have you come for me at long last?" He asked no one. Was this karma?

His helmet showed him that there was a strong electrical source several floors up, concentrated around one area, likely the roof. A power signal that strong likely meant the entire building had been blacked out. His best bet was to get out of this room quickly, and group with the others. But even with his Indra Blade, the insulating gloves he wore, the electronically locked door had no way to budge when the security measures were triggered. Someone had taken control of the building, but they could've done better.

"No, you would've killed me already."

He quickly scooped up the unconscious psychologist, and gently laid her behind the wide desk. If someone came in here with grenades or an itchy trigger finger, she'd be fine.

Wiseman walked up to the window, and drew his knife This was why he made a point of always being armed. Safety was an illusion for heroes. He jammed the blade into the window, electrocuted the security lock, and opened it. A helicopter had landed on the roof. By the sounds of things, anyway.

Wiseman jumped on the desk and pried a panel from the ceiling. It left a hole big enough for a person to climb into, but he didn't. He left it there as a red herring.

Whoever it was that was doing this job needed lessons in sabotage. Their work was rough around the edges, it was sloppy. There was still power flowing through the building in some fashion, even if it was just from an auxiliary source, and controlling that to lock Wiseman in here meant that someone had just given him a hint. HERO's digital security was compounded above the average hero company's by the existence of ALISA, who could detect intrusions faster than most personnel, and she hadn't detected this. And yet they transmitted an evil monologue, mentioning a key component of their strategy and the fact that they had further plans. All while they hadn't had the common sense to mask their screen.

Those little details painted a picture for him. They were less experienced, and likely less organized when it came to such things than he was. On a scale of one to ten, he arbitrarily gave them an eight. He was the ten.

Wiseman climbed out of the window, clinging to the outside like a spider. He reached up with one arm to grab it it, then dropped to grab the ledge of the one a floor down. The window was shut completely, and now Wiseman was free.

This was the part where things got tricky.



While most of the heroes had gone deeper into the plant to take out the heart of this, Mire had stayed outside in a fetid puddle of gore that was only growing deeper. They gradually drank up the liquified viscera, faster than the Terrazards could actually damage them, all while erupting in contant boils of enzymous fluid over and over again. The Terrazards that charged Mire on the ground got stuck in the sludge and dissolved into it, the ones that pounced from on high were dissolved more quickly. It was just and endless loop of Mire's body regenerating and exploding like the undying monstrosity they were.

That changed when a gigantic fuckoff monkey man burst out of the plant and started grappling with an even giganticer fuckoff human. Crane, they thought her name was. Someone that big should've had a hang of it, but Mire was in the middle of fighting, so what difference did it make?

They dissolved into hyphae, sinking low into the lake of rotting meat that they had created, giving an impression that they were just hiding from the terrazards.

fungus began to bloom beneath Crane and the Menace, culminating in a long and gaunt hand grabbing at the villain's leg as Mire exhumed their body through cracks in the ground. They could've soaked the Menace with enzymes, but that would've been a bad decision this close to Crane, so they crawled up his leg and to his chest to try and pull him free of the giantess. If Crane started swinging and happened to hit Mire, it wouldn't mean much, since they didn't feel pain.

"Are you the best there is against us, ugly human-thing?" Their four arms grasped at whatever they could to bind the villain's movements, making him an easy target for someone bigger than him.
There was something paradoxical about coming from the background Ryder had. Years spent seeing the world through screens, wires and brain waves only to be confined to a hole deep underground. All the nations of the world, she could walk through them by casting her consciousness deep into the endless networks of human civilization. And yet Ryder hadn’t ever ventured outside Umbra for so long.

She learned things she should have, learning the dangers of combat from war and political history that she only touched on for her strategic efforts. Scouring digital libraries for analogies to her plans, Ryder often found that an element of surprise won entire wars. She leveraged that for her breakout, taking advantage of the X-men and the security systems to leave people floored before they could even react. And it had worked. But they’d expect such a trick next time- The unexpected tactics only worked when they weren’t affected by precedent. If she went back to Umbra alone, the chances wouldn’t be skewed so easily in her favor.

”Alright, fine. When they get back, I’ll plan this and all of you can be involved. Sure, whatever. But this is my business,” she stated, firmly. ”I’m not going to be slowed down, stopped or talked out of doing this. Any of you decide you don’t like this? I’m going without you.”

Umbra was going to be eradicated, with or without the X-Men’s help.

”I lived in the underground areas, they had tunnels they thought were hidden from me.” She looked up at Logan, who had been bragging about being similarly vicious. ”And their network is easy to break through. We’ll get to the rest later. Find me a computer you can trust not to be breached, and I’ll log things onto it for this.”

Interactions: ₘₐₖₑ ᵢₜ ₛₜₒₚ
ₘₐₖₑ ᵢₜ ₛₜₒₚ



Amara had pointed her gun at Alizee Vul, but she hadn’t actually planned on shooting the ghost. Ghosts couldn’t be killed, they could just be unpersoned for a while and then they came back. They didn’t stay gone. Thankfully, Amara didn’t have to actually look past her headache that was getting worse right now. Everyone jumped her, Leon went off, Stormy got ready to drop the big one, Sloane went for it. Attack, attack, attack. Good. Amara pointed her gun at the ground while everyone started talking about how the Void Heart had been sealed and what to do with this bitch. Meanwhile, Amara screwed her eyes shut and counted the pulsing throbs of her skull in the hope it could take her mind off the migraine.

Stand vigilant, Soldier.

Shut the fuck up. I don’t need this right now, get back to your post.

God, there were so many noises right now. Everyone was just too loud. Amara could hear her heartbeat thumping in the back of her neck, so firmly it stirred something up in her throat. If she just kept her breathing steady, then it was tolerable.

She brought a hand up to her temple, and felt ice against her head instead of fingers.

Whose voices was she hearing? She knew Sloane was in here, but that didn’t sound like her. Was it Linqian? Fuck, what was it? She needed to get out of here and get some fresh air. She needed to- She…

”... ᴴᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ! ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵖᵃʸ ᵇⁱᵍ⁻ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵃᵏʸ⁻ᵈᵉᵉᵏʸ ᶜʰᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵒⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ. ᵂᵉ ᵖⁱᵐᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵏ.”
Who are these people?


”Shut up already…” She muttered. It was like she had hooks digging into her neck, like someone was trying to drag her into something frigid. It hurt.

“ʸᵉˢ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ? ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵀᵉᵐᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵒˢᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ ⱽᵒⁱᵈ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵃᵐᵖᵃᵍᵉ, ᵒʳ ᶜᵒʳʳᵘᵖᵗ ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ, ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ. ᴵ'ᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠⁱˣⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱⁿˢ, ᴬˡⁱᶻéᵉ. ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ʲᵒᵇ. ᵀʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵗᵉᶜʰⁿⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗ!”
Where are we?


She was dying, she could feel it. Everything around her was just sloppy watercolor when Amara opened her eyes and white noise when she closed them.

”Please stop talking, I can’t br-“

“A bunch of idiots! There you fucking have it! We gave her her fucking undeserved moment, Jasper!” exploded Sloane, stomping her foot down as she leveled her staff, ready to zap Alizée if she attempted to resist. “And she blew it, so stop projecting your guilt on us. Come on, Britney. Do it.”
Not yet. No, no, no-


Britney?

Why did she know that name? Where did she put it? She left it here somewhere, but the clouds were so thick. She knew a Britney- Britney Wilson? She died, didn’t she?

No. Britney Williams. Amara remembered something: She was alive still.

“RUBY IS FUCKING HIGH AND THOSE TWO ARE CULTISTS!!!”
Sloane Faris


”SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL OF YOU!!!”


Amara’s gun clattered to the floor as she shrieked at the whole room. Her voice wasn’t her own, it was too many voices to count, layered over each other in sync. Her face was twisted up in pain, Her shoulder were rising and falling with her breathing like she was hyperventilating.

”THIS IS WHY YOU NEVER GET ANYTHING DONE!” They shouted. Her eyes were bloodshot, the room was spinning. ”You just SHOUT and SCREAM AND FIGHT back and forth with each other, and none of us are on the same damn page long enough for it to matter! If we have to- Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

Her head swayed, she blinked, and her eyes snapped to Alizee. ”Seal her. Do it.”
In SPIRITUM 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




While he dragged the tanker away, the others were doing their own thing. The dead guy in the truck was accounted for, the scene was being investigated. It didn’t seem like anything critical would happen until the ground exploded. Landsharks sprang up and threatened to devour the squad, which was using the mist to communicate. Maybe that was why these things caught wind of them, Morden knew they were sensitive to the astral mist, after all. He could feel the ground beneath his feet start to rumble and crack, just in time for the jaws of one of the landsharks to snap shut around him.

For a brief moment, there was only darkness.

Val demanded an update over the channel, but Morden didn’t immediately react to it. He was too busy being thrashed about in the jaws of a landshark that was trying to bite down on its catch. But alas, his skin and flesh was infused with the mist, so all it could do was fumble. One of its sharp teeth snapped off between Morden’s fingers, and he plunged it into the roof of the beast’s mouth.

Anyone on the outside would watch it cough up blood, more and more as Morden sliced its mouth open. From there, it only got hideous.

The landshark’s blood spewed from its jaws as if it was vomiting chunks of gore. And then Morden’s fist and arm exploded through the skull, holding a bloody tooth the size of a dagger. Skin, flesh and bone parted, and he pried the thing’s bone away from itself to rip himself free.

The last thing the landshark could possibly do was scream, writhe and fall limp. Its head was torn to shreds from the inside out, and Morden crawled through the cavity where it’s brain should have been. He landed on his feet beside the dead animal, soaked in blood and viscera with his new trophy in hand.

One down, he relayed over the telepathic channel. Their toughness is only skin deep. Take advantage of this.
In SPIRITUM 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




If Morden was being completely, brutally honest with himself, he did not give a fuck about the interpersonal politics of Vangar’s government. Doves this, Imperialists that- It didn’t matter if they argued until the Astral Mist evaporated into nothingness. While they debated on how to move forward, people were dying every day. The old saying that war is old men taking and young men dying rang true, so they could trade words in Vangarian tribunals all they wanted. It wasn’t Morden’s problem, nor his perogative to listen to such words. It was war.

The crash on the road, however, was a bit more impactful. Etherium was spilling out, and Morden was sensitive enough to the mist that he could tell it was getting bad. This entire road could be a crater any second, one errant spark here or there setting it all off. The others got out, and Morden took off in the other direction. Fifty paces backwards, since he didn’t want to risk anything weird happening. It might not have meant anything, but his magic was awfully mist-hungry.
He inhaled air, and exhaled raw magical power. The mist filled his skin and flesh with strength, the air crackled. And then, he walked back over to the wrecked truck.

Morden jogged back over and stepped around the pool of Etherium. His hands reached for the hitch between the truck and the container, and he snapped it off. He then gripped the steel walls of the tank, and exhumed a loud metal groan from it as he tried to push the thing upright. The damage might’ve been done, but he could stop the puddle from becoming a flood.

The wheels banged against the ground as he got the awkward shape to move. The Etherium sloshed around, but now it wasn’t going to spill further.

I’m moving the tanker. Watch your step, don’t get Etherium on you.

He walked around to the front end of the tanker, and lifted upwards with one hand. From there, it was as simple as dragging it like a wheelbarrow off of the road, out of the way of any vehicles coming and going.
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