I'm interested!
silvermist1116
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- silvermist1116 8 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
I have a rough draft for my final due this week and the final is due next week. My replies will be slow for a bit. Bare with me.
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@Haydrian Cindel Is this still active?
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@GrizzTheMauler I edited the sheet.
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@SamaraJayne96 I like the dice roll. It's completely up to chance. Votes are biased and opinion based.
Temple's for each god and goddess, dormitories, training rooms. That's all I have so far.
Ready music.
Ready battle level 38 in
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One…
Begin.
Seohyung was surrounded, but he didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was given the go ahead he threw his sword, pierced one in the head, ran and planted his feet on its torso, pushed off with his sword in his left hand and back flipped across the circle. He stabbed straight down into another’s skulls, then landed on his feet. He ripped the sword up, split the top in half, then spun to the right decapitated the one next to it, then spun to the left and stabbed between where the ribs should be.
Bullets flew. He ran zigzag to the other side of the room where more of them appeared from the floor panels. The ones behind him lined up like a firing squad, accidentally clipped one of their own when he ducked. They stopped firing. He dropped his sword, jumped on one’s shoulders, broke its neck, then fell backwards with his thighs around its throat and used the momentum to throw it into the one behind him. He rolled from his back to his hands and paused, thighs to his chest, then he kicked out, further knocked them off balance, then landed on his feet. He picked up his sword and stabbed both.
One came at him, a sword in its hands. He quickly pulled his sword out, then clashed blade against blade. It tried to over power him, pushed back, his feet slid back a few inches, but he didn’t move further than that. He ducked and spun on his toes, sword cut the one that tried to sneak up behind him at the knees. He just as quickly turned back to the other and stabbed up into its torso. The bullets fired again. He stood, body still hung off his sword and ran at the gunbots. The body was his shield.
He had to be quick. The bullets tore up the body, until most of it was missing chucks. He threw what was left at the bots, caught four off guard, they fell under the weight. Four more still shot at him. He stayed low and close, where the gunbots couldn’t get him without shooting up their own feet. He cut one from the groin up to the head, then dropped his sword. He grabbed one half’s arm and swung half the body at the bot next to it. He knocked it off its feet and did the same for the other two. The last bot accidentally shot off and caught him in the thigh. Seohyung dropped to his knee. That part of his tight black intra suit for his field duty uniform was bullet proof as was the chest and back, but it was going to bruise like the devil and keep him limp for the rest of the exercise.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.
The gun was still in his face, so he forced the arm up and stayed down, shots went off towards the ceiling while he punched at the elbow, until it let go. He picked up the gun and shot the bot in the head. He stood and turned to do the same for the others, but the gun was out of bullets, so he limped down the line to where he left his sword, picked it up, then stabbed the last six in their heads.
A hellfire of bullets started up again from two stories above on the balcony. He ran towards the gunfire, jumped up to the balcony, grabbed the railing and kicked the first one in the face. He crouched low, his leg nearly buckled, but he kept strong and stabbed the next one in the chest. He ran forward into the line of bots along the railing, screamed at the top of his lungs through the pain. Some of them fell over and crashed to the floor below, others jumped out of the way. When he got to the end of the line, he threw the last over the edge, then swiftly worked his way back through the ones still alive. His thigh was screaming, but he couldn’t stop. The hour wasn’t close to over yet, so he kept going.
He hardly had a moment to breathe, before bots dropped out of the ceiling behind him with swords, staffs, and kunai. He went at them. Clashed swords with one while another sneaked under their arms and stabbed him in the side again and again.
"Fuck!" He screamed through his teeth and pushed away the swordbot, kicked the one that stabbed him, then cut off the swordbot’s head. The kunai was still in his side, but he couldn’t pull it out yet.
Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.
He fell away from one with a staff when it jumped to smash him in the head. It moved quick. He got to his feet and ducked, dodged, and weaved away from the staff. It pushed him into the wall. He couldn’t get it with his sword, so he dropped it, and grabbed the staff when it came for him again. The vibration from the force rattled down his arms, down his torso, all the way down to his feet. Teeth gritted, he used the wall for support and kicked his legs out, caught the bot in the chest and forced it to let go. He raised the staff up and smashed it in the head over and over, before he faced off with the other bots.
Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.
A few threw kunai at him. He deflected some, but the rest of them cut his face and his arms. He ran at them; his thigh almost gave out. He vaulted over the next few, barely landed on his feet, before he fell on his back. He grabbed a kunai on the floor and stabbed the next bot in the ankle in rapid succession, then threw it at its head. It dropped its sword, he grabbed the hilt midair and staggered to his feet. He stabbed behind his back, killed one, swung over head and slashed the next. He was stabbed and cut a few times, but he didn’t stop. Bot bodies and parts filled the balcony before he jumped over the railing to continue the fight on the bottom level. He rolled and popped up, kept most of the pressure off his thigh, sword up and ready for the next wave.
By the end of it he was worse for wear, bloody and cut up. He’d been stabbed a few more times, but he pushed through the pain anyway.
Battle level 38 ending in
Five…
He couldn’t let his guard down, until the final beep. Sword up, feet unsteady he waited for another enemy.
Four…
Other than his harsh breathing and the beeping, the room was silent.
Three…
Sweat dripped down his face, once slicked back hair was matted to his forehead and hung in his eyes.
Two…
Blood dripped down his side, his stomach, and his calf; shallow cuts on his face bleed slowly and stung from his sweat, his thigh shook, the pain unbearable, and his arms trembled, exhausted.
One… A shot rang out.
The bullet caught him in the back. He fell face first and black out.
The NSF training room was a mess. From streaks of his blood here and there to robot bodies cut to pieces, sparks flew from their wires. Seohyung wasn’t getting up anytime soon. The pain completely consumed him and kept him down. Under his intra suit were monitor patches on his chest and arms that read his vitals to the training machine. Right now they were dangerously low.
Operative is unresponsive. Calling nursing station now.
Ready battle level 38 in
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One…
Begin.
Seohyung was surrounded, but he didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was given the go ahead he threw his sword, pierced one in the head, ran and planted his feet on its torso, pushed off with his sword in his left hand and back flipped across the circle. He stabbed straight down into another’s skulls, then landed on his feet. He ripped the sword up, split the top in half, then spun to the right decapitated the one next to it, then spun to the left and stabbed between where the ribs should be.
Bullets flew. He ran zigzag to the other side of the room where more of them appeared from the floor panels. The ones behind him lined up like a firing squad, accidentally clipped one of their own when he ducked. They stopped firing. He dropped his sword, jumped on one’s shoulders, broke its neck, then fell backwards with his thighs around its throat and used the momentum to throw it into the one behind him. He rolled from his back to his hands and paused, thighs to his chest, then he kicked out, further knocked them off balance, then landed on his feet. He picked up his sword and stabbed both.
One came at him, a sword in its hands. He quickly pulled his sword out, then clashed blade against blade. It tried to over power him, pushed back, his feet slid back a few inches, but he didn’t move further than that. He ducked and spun on his toes, sword cut the one that tried to sneak up behind him at the knees. He just as quickly turned back to the other and stabbed up into its torso. The bullets fired again. He stood, body still hung off his sword and ran at the gunbots. The body was his shield.
He had to be quick. The bullets tore up the body, until most of it was missing chucks. He threw what was left at the bots, caught four off guard, they fell under the weight. Four more still shot at him. He stayed low and close, where the gunbots couldn’t get him without shooting up their own feet. He cut one from the groin up to the head, then dropped his sword. He grabbed one half’s arm and swung half the body at the bot next to it. He knocked it off its feet and did the same for the other two. The last bot accidentally shot off and caught him in the thigh. Seohyung dropped to his knee. That part of his tight black intra suit for his field duty uniform was bullet proof as was the chest and back, but it was going to bruise like the devil and keep him limp for the rest of the exercise.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.
The gun was still in his face, so he forced the arm up and stayed down, shots went off towards the ceiling while he punched at the elbow, until it let go. He picked up the gun and shot the bot in the head. He stood and turned to do the same for the others, but the gun was out of bullets, so he limped down the line to where he left his sword, picked it up, then stabbed the last six in their heads.
A hellfire of bullets started up again from two stories above on the balcony. He ran towards the gunfire, jumped up to the balcony, grabbed the railing and kicked the first one in the face. He crouched low, his leg nearly buckled, but he kept strong and stabbed the next one in the chest. He ran forward into the line of bots along the railing, screamed at the top of his lungs through the pain. Some of them fell over and crashed to the floor below, others jumped out of the way. When he got to the end of the line, he threw the last over the edge, then swiftly worked his way back through the ones still alive. His thigh was screaming, but he couldn’t stop. The hour wasn’t close to over yet, so he kept going.
He hardly had a moment to breathe, before bots dropped out of the ceiling behind him with swords, staffs, and kunai. He went at them. Clashed swords with one while another sneaked under their arms and stabbed him in the side again and again.
"Fuck!" He screamed through his teeth and pushed away the swordbot, kicked the one that stabbed him, then cut off the swordbot’s head. The kunai was still in his side, but he couldn’t pull it out yet.
Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.
He fell away from one with a staff when it jumped to smash him in the head. It moved quick. He got to his feet and ducked, dodged, and weaved away from the staff. It pushed him into the wall. He couldn’t get it with his sword, so he dropped it, and grabbed the staff when it came for him again. The vibration from the force rattled down his arms, down his torso, all the way down to his feet. Teeth gritted, he used the wall for support and kicked his legs out, caught the bot in the chest and forced it to let go. He raised the staff up and smashed it in the head over and over, before he faced off with the other bots.
Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.
A few threw kunai at him. He deflected some, but the rest of them cut his face and his arms. He ran at them; his thigh almost gave out. He vaulted over the next few, barely landed on his feet, before he fell on his back. He grabbed a kunai on the floor and stabbed the next bot in the ankle in rapid succession, then threw it at its head. It dropped its sword, he grabbed the hilt midair and staggered to his feet. He stabbed behind his back, killed one, swung over head and slashed the next. He was stabbed and cut a few times, but he didn’t stop. Bot bodies and parts filled the balcony before he jumped over the railing to continue the fight on the bottom level. He rolled and popped up, kept most of the pressure off his thigh, sword up and ready for the next wave.
By the end of it he was worse for wear, bloody and cut up. He’d been stabbed a few more times, but he pushed through the pain anyway.
Battle level 38 ending in
Five…
He couldn’t let his guard down, until the final beep. Sword up, feet unsteady he waited for another enemy.
Four…
Other than his harsh breathing and the beeping, the room was silent.
Three…
Sweat dripped down his face, once slicked back hair was matted to his forehead and hung in his eyes.
Two…
Blood dripped down his side, his stomach, and his calf; shallow cuts on his face bleed slowly and stung from his sweat, his thigh shook, the pain unbearable, and his arms trembled, exhausted.
One… A shot rang out.
The bullet caught him in the back. He fell face first and black out.
The NSF training room was a mess. From streaks of his blood here and there to robot bodies cut to pieces, sparks flew from their wires. Seohyung wasn’t getting up anytime soon. The pain completely consumed him and kept him down. Under his intra suit were monitor patches on his chest and arms that read his vitals to the training machine. Right now they were dangerously low.
Operative is unresponsive. Calling nursing station now.
If we're calling dibs, can I be the son of Dionysus?
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