|
Post by Admin on Nov 15, 2007 11:36:54 GMT -6
The long list of hopeful recruits spans past the entry doors into the barracks and clear out into the courtyard all the way to the main gate. A hot day softens into a hot night as the Elite sort the recruits into smaller groups, and examine their fighting skills, techniques or the potential of each hopeful to fill the ranks of the Underworld Military.
Few are picked from the long line of assorted demons, even fewer are allowed to be tested this night before the Elite guard. Only those who have the moxy and the grit to make it into the royal guard are tested here.
The entry level, rung number one, on the long ladder that leads to the exalted Elite status and the coveted place among the Praetorian guard.
Master Lysandor has been placed in charge of this round of recruits, his leadership and determination have earned him this duty. The new Regent is searching out the ranks for his Elite commanders, for even the best need leadership, and this trial will surely test this Elite's metallic resolve for that very purpose.
Regent has dispatched Ciel with his new pet to be inducted into the Elite, This former Arch Angel that Lysandor himself has battled with his comrades in the Ball Room, and now despite what he may feel, he must accept into his confidence. Grant him powers and status of the Elite Guard, for those are the new Regent's orders.
A brutal test for this often tormented fallen Elite, one that may well make or break his character before this hot night is over.
|
|
|
Post by Ciel on Nov 15, 2007 13:16:42 GMT -6
Ciel saunters in with Rashiel and keeps her stance as to where he is always at a stance to grovel if she wishes it. She loves scaring him and she can't let that go just yet. "Come underling. We must meet with someone very important and he will not be kept waiting. Come! And do not stumble or he will surely punish you."
She did not even look back to see if Rashiel would do what she bid. He'd either do it, or she'd punish him. Simple as that.
Walking through the room, looking at all the new hopefuls, Ciel giggles to herself as she plays and cavorts around them, trying to test their resolve not to break their concentration. Naturally, a few fail and watch her as she dances around. She shakes her head and laughs as she makes her way to the front of the line and Master Lysandor. This ought to be fun, she thought. What a bunch of sorry excuses for warrior.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 15, 2007 18:09:31 GMT -6
Lysandor stands on a makeshift stage at the back corner of the room, allowing him to see over the crowd and watch everything that transpires. His sterling eyes miss nothing, and he spots Ciel with the new Fallen as they enter the room, but makes no sign that he has noticed them. Until Ciel starts her dancing and teasing, and shatters the concentration of a handful of hopefuls.
Rather than allow his fellow Elite to chastise the recruits, Lysandor decides to make an example of them. And if a few egos are bruised in the process it will only make the lesson sink in all the more . . . or make it harder to swallow, but no one could ever accuse Lysandor of being an easy teacher.
In less than a blink of an eye, Lysandor jumps down from the stage and weaves through the crowd toward the recruits who have given Ciel nearly their complete attention. He shakes his head ever-so-slightly to the Elite closest to them, and the Elite backs away with a wide-open smirk.
The heavily scarred Fallen grabs one of the recruits by his burly shoulder and slams him into his companions, sending them all to the ground in a tangle of limbs and confusion. Lysandor stands above them, staring down at them with anger and disapproval simmering in his eyes.
"If that had been a serious attack, I would have killed you all before you would have even seen me coming," he tells them softly, but his words carry. As one of the recruits attempts to get up, he sweeps his foot under their arm, sending him back to the ground - hard. "A true Elite wouldn't have allowed himself to be so distracted as to disgrace himself with such a defeat. Even if the distraction comes in the form of a sensual feast as to be found in Lady Ciel."
Lysandor turns away from the embarrassed recruits, but keeps an eye on them in case they should try for revenge on their now-deflated pride. He inclines his head in bow to Ciel as he looks over the new Fallen. He received the orders from the Regent, and knows of the Fallen's identity. It made him uneasy, at first, to have such a being in confidence. But seeing him, and his startling transformation, Lysandor is somewhat pacified, though his anger remains.
"Lady Ciel," Lysandor says as his head bows slightly. "I trust you've had your full of fun with my recruits?" He allows the ghost of a smile to cross his face. "I should thank you for your help in weeding out those unworthy of the Elite, though perhaps next time you could tone it down a little. I'd hate to lose more due to your charms, milady." He turns to Rashiel, and the hint of smile vanishes from his face. Now, Lysandor looks serious as he pushes aside his anger. "I was informed you would be coming to join our ranks. You will be tested as all the others, though perhaps more firmly and with less withheld than you have just witness." He waits a beat for those words to sink in. "What shall your new name be? We cannot go screaming your former identity to all of Hell. That would be detrimental to your position in our Elite ranks, as well as hazardous to your health."
|
|
Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
|
Post by Nyxereos on Nov 16, 2007 13:23:00 GMT -6
Ciel's taunting makes it hard for him to walk as his new body is nothing but a shell. He manages to keep up and the weight of the armor and the new wings make him stumble after her.
When the elite approaches his senses are clear as a bell for a moment as the Elite thrashes the hopefuls before them.
The new fallen stands silent staring at the floor and the humiliated recruits. The blinding pain burns his eyes as the newly silver orbs see differently that he could before. He struggles to look up at Lysandor.
He whispers as his voice catches the wind slowly. "Nyxereos...." He struggles to say. "Nyxereos.... The dark earth on which my master treads." he says with a bow to the elite, clutching his stomach.
|
|
|
Post by Ciel on Nov 17, 2007 12:07:56 GMT -6
Ciel takes her time and curtsies to Lysandor, laughing full throatedly at the tangled mess of recruit on the floor. "But of course Master Lysandor. I was just helping you test them, and as I can see, some of them have a long ways to go."
At his next tip, she nods, rising back to her full height. "But of course, Master Elite. I am very sorry for bespelling them so quickly. A little taste next time, perhaps?" This last sentence was said with a lilt and her wicked smile was anything but kittenish. She watched as Lysnador spoke to the new fallen and as it spoke back.
She smiled viciously and looked at first Nyxereos, then to Lysandor. "I trust you will make it suffer in its pursuits, Master Elite. You would be doing Master Thane a great service. He wished to beat the poor thing himself, but the Chancellor decided to make it easier on him and send it to you right away." Her smile was genuine. And genuinely scary.
"Is this all that you require of me, Master Elite?" She curtsied again, waiting for him to dismiss her and take the new toy to the training grounds.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 17, 2007 17:57:54 GMT -6
Lysandor gives Ciel another of those ghost smiles and nods. "Perhaps, when they have had more training, you can test their resolve again. You will not find it so easy to break."
He looks at the new Fallen and frowns, at both is name and manner. It is clear to Lysandor that it was not only his appearance that has undergone such a drastic change. He moves in so close that they are nearly touching, watching the reactions of the Fallen, and looks into his pain-filled eyes.
"You, Nyxereos, have caused much trouble for us," Lysandor tells him softly, so that only he and Ciel may hear. "What you have done by hiding our Dark Majesty may have started the beginnings of a civil war in Hell, your new home." As Lysandor watches him, his severe expression wans. He steps away and turns to Ciel. "I cannot make him suffer any more than he already is, whatever Master Thane may wish otherwise." His eyes begin to simmer once more. "The High Chancellor wishes that he become Elite and be brought into our confidence, and so he shall, no matter our own feelings of the matter. But do not think that he was spared by coming to me. Master Thane would only beat him. I shall do much worse than that."
Lysandor looks at Ciel with a considering eye as she curtsies to him again. "If you can spare a moment, Lady Ciel, I have an idea that may be to your liking."
He motions some of the recruits that resisited Ciel's dance, and they approach. "You have all passed the preliminary tests given to you by the Elite. You have one more test, and do not think it shall be an easy one. Your next opponent will be myself and Nyxereos. Winning isn't the key in this fight, and in fact, you won't win." He waits as the recruits absorb that fact. Some of the half-dozen smirk to themselves as they size up the two Fallen, confident in their ability to overcome them.
Lysandor turns back to Ciel, moving in close enough so Nyxereos and the recruits won't hear.
"If you can, give Nyxereos your favor," he says. "It would show trust and support of him." Lysandor hesitates a moment. "The Elite need to see that, but more so, I believe he needs to see that. Broken as he is, he is almost useless to us. I do not ask that you trust or support him just yet, but for now, let him and others believe that." He looks back at the recruits, and then to Ciel, this time with a smirk. "And, if it's not too much trouble, do your best to be a distraction during the fight. That is, if you can spare a moment?"
|
|
Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
|
Post by Nyxereos on Nov 18, 2007 12:13:45 GMT -6
His chromatic eyes never leave Lysandor's face as he is spoken to by the Elite. The ability to maintain upright becomes harder. As Lysandor steps away, he can't maintain his composure. Nyxereos drops to his knees and begins to convulse violently. His white hair bucking with each toss of his head and soon a river of black blood spews forth from Nyxereos' mouth.
"UUnnnhhhhh!?!" he groans in agony as the tempest subsides. The black blood congeals quickly in the stone floor of the barracks and before everyones eyes it becomes semitransparent and hard as stone.
Nyxereos stares into the black puddle now hardened into volcanic glass. The glossy black that casts back to his new eyes the reflection of his fallen face. He stares in horror of his new look but cannot look away. The black blood still on his chin and face remain liquid and glisten in the low light of the room.
"No, no, no, no!?!" He keeps repeating to himself over and over. He leans back onto his knees and begins to shriek in terror and pain.
"What have I done? What have I done? What...have I...?" He crumbles into a heap on the floor his mighty wings tucked tightly into his back as he begins rocking back and forth on his knees. He places his silvery hands onto the floor gazing into the black glass vomit and weeping uncontrollably.
|
|
|
Post by Ciel on Nov 20, 2007 14:57:14 GMT -6
Ciel smiles and stood up out of her curtsey. "I do not doubt that with your expert training Master Lysandor, they will not break like brittle parchment. However, it will be difficult to resist the temptaion to try and make them do so..."
Her eyes narrowed for the slightest bit as Nxyereos's suffering was claimed to be big enough. " I doubt that. It doesn't look hurt enough. " Her eyes lightened back to their normal as she crossed her arms and looked at Lysandor. "I trust that its training will suffice as proper punishment for its tasteless actions."
As Ciel watched Lysandor motioned some recruits forward and she laughed to herself as she heard him talk to them. He was definitely right, she loved this idea. Up until the part where he asked her to give favor to the ugly thing that was being tested.
She whispered back, "Give it favor?" Her face was blank but she was somewhat put off. "If it is an order or a fervent request, Master Eilte, then I will do so. I do not relish the thought of touching it. In fact, I would rather kick it." At the thought of being a distraction, her eyes lit up again. " Now that I can do."
Sher turned to ready herself to do something she would much rather not do and saw Nxyereos fall and vomit. She takes a fluid step or two back and looks at him with disgust. She turned back and walked back up to Lysandor. "You wish me to give that favor? How can I give favor to something, even in jest, that cannot accept itself?"
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 20, 2007 18:05:48 GMT -6
Lysandor's eyes fall, as if they were suddenly filled with an expression he didn't want to share. When he looks up again at Ciel, he is as schooled and serious as before.
"I don't know how to explain it to you," he tells her softly. "It is not that I do not wish to give him more pain, but that I doubt there is much I can do at the moment." He pauses, looking at Nyxereos. "But I can promise that his training will not be easy. In fact, it will make the others' look like children at play in comparison."
Lysandor frowns, more to himself, at Ciel's disgust at giving Nyxereos favor. "I understand your sentiments. We both were in the ballroom that night, Lady Ciel." He pauses, giving the memory its required, pained silence. Lysandor smirks, but it looks somewhat forced. "If I were the one who had to give favor, I might not have suggested it. But it is not for simply his benefit that I ask it of you. If he can be coaxed out of his shell, it would make his training and dealing with him much easier on us all."
He starts getting ready for the fight against the recruits but turns when he hears Nyxereos groan, and fall to the ground, weeping at his reflection in the volcanic glass. A sharp look from Lysandor is enough to keep the other Elite and recruits from approaching.
Lysandor walks past Ciel and kneels beside the weeping Fallen, putting a firm hand under Nyxereos's chin and forcing his face up to look him in the eye.
"The time for tears and mourning is not now," he tells him, his voice soft so that there is an illusion of privacy. His tone is firm, yet surprisingly gentle. "You have been given a task, and I expect you to perform to the best of your abilities. When your presence is not immediately required, you can shed your tears." Lysandor looks up at Ciel, with his own disgust at comforting Nyxereos showing, and an echo of the newly Fallen's pain behind his eyes. "Can you claim to have always accepted yourself - as you are now? Few Fallen in Hell undergo sudden physical changes, and those that do often refuse to accept themselves for what they are until much later." He glances down at Nyxereos, his hand having moved to his shoulder. "Like it or not, for better or worse, he is well and truly Fallen. The High Chancellor has chosen a many faceted punishment for our new brother, and I believe that we have seen just the beginning for what has been done to him for abducting our Queen."
He gives Ciel a look that clearly says that he is in agreement with both her, and the Regent. It is not enough.
|
|
|
Post by Ciel on Nov 20, 2007 23:59:00 GMT -6
Ciel still looks disgusted, but she shakes her head and sighs. "At least its journey will be arduous."
She squatted down and looked at Nyxereos and then looked at Lysandor again, whispering to him. "I will give him what I can. I cannot promise that it will be to everyone's wishes, but I will do what I am bid to."
At his question of her self-esteem, she stands quickly and turns away. She spoke quietly but very severely. "I have no qualms about telling you how much I hate this part of me that makes me crave the blood of others. However, I hated it because of what it makes me do, not who it made me to become. Our 'brother' as you call it, has tears to shed, while I no longer weep for what I have lost. For all I care, it can weep for all eternity so long as it does what it is bid."
She does not look at Lysandor or Nyxereos for a while as she's turned away. The Elite pushed a button. Mentioning her Queen hurt...she'd have to recover first.
|
|
Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
|
Post by Nyxereos on Nov 21, 2007 10:43:38 GMT -6
The broken fallen hears Lysandor through his misery and sobbing. His anger begins to stir but it comes in muted bursts. Just enough for him to cut through the sorrow, stand and stare blankly at the smoky glass.
Luckily the stomach pain has subsided but only to be replaced by other griping pain from his wings. The sickly look on his face is gone now, only replaced by bitter torment and emptiness in his steely orbs.
"I shall do my master's bidding..." He says coldly as he straightens and turns to Lysandor and Ciel. Nyxereos grits his teeth in pain as his wings flex behind him in determined display of his reluctant readiness to proceed.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 21, 2007 21:28:11 GMT -6
Lysandor pushes himself to his feet. "I did not mean to offend you, Lady Ciel. I apologize that I have managed to do so." He bows his head in her direction, though her back is still to him.
He turns his attention to Nyxereos and any expression he once had fades. He's back to being Lysandor of the Elite. He glances over to the recruits he chose, who are watching the three with curiosity, suspicion, and disdain. They still believe that six of them can defeat two seasoned warriors.
"Good," Lysandor nods to Nyxereos, and goes straight to business. "They have the skills needed to be Elite, but I want to see how well they work as a team. Try not to hurt them too badly, but don't cut them any slack either. After all, we aren't coddling them."
Lysandor steps in closer to Ciel, to speak where the recruits can't hear. "You may begin whenever you are ready." He hesitates, then adds, "We will find her. My first task as her bodyguard was to find her, and we can do it again."
He walks to stand next to Nyxereos, but far enough away so that they will have room to maneuver. Lysandor puts on his bracer/claws, readying for the fight, and watches the recruits. The hot day and exacting tests had made all the recruits and Elite strip down to the bear minimum, but left them without much armor.
"Now," Lysandor says to the recruits with the barest hint of a smirk on his face, "try to defeat us."
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Nov 22, 2007 1:05:40 GMT -6
As the days light gives way to darkness the way is lit to the area before the barracks. The courtyard has been sectioned off as a suitable test area with a few recognizable weapons of war and just a few other devices of cunning and terror to test the ability of the new recruits ability to adapt and think on the fly. The area where Lysandor and Nyxereos stand is in the ring center and the other recruits Lysandor has chosen to spar circle evenly around the elite and the new fallen. Good tactics for the six to easily take the two if they are not prepared.
The six attack in unison 3 on 1 is the pattern of assault. As the largest recruit a Devil Pi'Ri, squares up on Lysandor, the other 2, a red slender Devil and a Dark Kitsune attack his flank to try and pin the Elite in the center to make short work of him. Well that is the plan anyway.
The other 3, a Fallen, a Leccubi and a big Gabriel Rachet literally swarm Nyxereos, The Rachet attacks his legs and grips him firmly to drag him down. the others simply dive bomb and begin to pummel away at the grounded dark angel.
|
|
Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
|
Post by Nyxereos on Nov 22, 2007 1:58:48 GMT -6
When the attack comes Nyxereos lets it come for him. As he is drug off his feet his senses become very clear. His steely eyes become black as coal and each sensation of the brutal assault rending his flesh and breaking his bones is like a pleasurable rhythm. The new flesh has no pain as it heals each wound as quickly as a new gash is made. Nyxereos can see the torrent of blows and slashes of claw, tooth and fist as if the event was happening in slow motion. He begins to feel again as his passion floods his receptors and he realizes this epiphany. Pain and pleasure are now opposite to him.
He grasps the next fist that homes in on him and with a tremendous twist the crack of joint being dislocated and the scream that follows brings more pleasing sensation to his hollow shell. The smile that twists his lips is frightening as he springs up from the floor and uses the recruit as his springboard. The silvery fallen becomes airborne like a bullet speeding away from the ground at breakneck speed.
With each powerful thrust his pain diminishes as the moment becomes euphoric when he twists about nearly tearing out his new wings by the roots. The new flesh rebonds swiftly and as the pain returns, he is already screaming to the ground like a meteor.
The force shakes the ground and the dust cloud that erupts from the impact covers the whole field and the new recruits that have gathered to watch.
Twisted laughter begins from within the cloud and as the dust settles, his psychotic laughter cuts the silence. "Mmmuuuuhhhhaaahhhhhhhhhaaaa, Mmmuuuuhhhhaaahhhhhhhhhaaaa, Mmmuuuuhhhhaaahhhhhhhhhaaaa
In a shallow crater, Nyxereos' broken mass slowly reforms into his former self as the bones reset and his flesh rebonds very swiftly as he forces his broken body to stand. He slowly stands with a twisted look about his face as the bones reset and the pain slowly returns. His wings flap slowly but with great violence rending his flesh slightly to ease his pain. He begins to growl as he slowly advances on the recruits.
"Lets play harder." he taunts them as his pretentious attitude mirrors his previous persona, only now it is far darker and even more disturbing.
|
|
|
Post by Ciel on Nov 22, 2007 20:25:27 GMT -6
Ciel keeps her back turned as Lysandor apologized and wiped away a free flowing tear at his promise. As she heard them prepare and start their tussle, she began her dance.
She threw her hands up gracefully, bending her back almost double. Her head touched the top of her lower back, her tongue running over her fangs and flashing a huge smile into the battle, knowing that she would catch someone's eye.
Swirling up and around, she kicked out to one side, sashaying to another side before shadowing out to the other side of the battle and wriggling herself seductively in the view of whomever was able to see.
She blew kisses to the recruits, making her kiss appear like a tiny shadow ball for each, and winking as she sinuously twisted her torso and snaked her arms out to each side. Her hands curled in and out, each individual finger crooking and uncrooking prettily as if to beckon each recruit to her.
She was using her charms and she hadn't even turned them halfway up yet. She could already tell that three of them were falling for it and she decided to follow Nyxereos when he said to play harder.
She danced harder and looked softer and much more vulnerable than she had at first, doing her best to make sure that all six would fall for her before the fight was up. And slowly, she was sure that she'd have them.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 23, 2007 10:00:06 GMT -6
Lysandor watches the three approach, making note of their formation and the way they react to each other. If he had been anything other than Elite, the strategy might have worked. But Lysandor didn't gain the rank and command he has by falling for such tactics.
Rather than fall back to give himself more room to maneuver, Lysandor charges their formation, lowering his shoulder to the Devil Pe'ri, and slamming into his diaphragm. While he's still winded and stunned, Lysandor grabs his arm and throws him into the Devil, sending them both to the ground for a moment. The Dark Kitsune had disappeared.
Instinct rather than knowledge drops Lysandor to the ground when the four-tailed Kitsune reappears, his double-bladed sword slicing through the air where Lysandor had been heartbeats ago. The Fallen Elite kicks his leg out towards the Kitsune's feet, but he had seen Lysandor discipline the other recruits, and evades the trip. However, he is momentarily distracted when Ciel appears in his line of sight. Lysandor tackles him, and twists his arm up and out, forcing him to release his weapon or have a broken bone. As Lysandor stands, his kicks the Kitsune's head, knocking him out of the fight.
He hears Nyxereos's taunt, and his blood chills at just how much it sounds like his previous self. Lysandor glances back to see what the new Fallen was doing.
"Don't kill them, Nyxereos," Lysandor reminds him.
The Pe'ri and Devil have recovered, and approach Lysandor with caution. The Devil is wounded, bleeding freely from an injury on his leg, but the Pe'ri looks unhurt. Both fall into the martial arts-type stance of Cha'Sarei and Cha'Sarei Tin'se. Though Lysandor is still confident he can defeat both, he doubts that he won't be uninjured in the fight.
What's one more scar, he thinks.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Nov 23, 2007 13:12:37 GMT -6
As the fight increases its momentum the recruits facing Nyxereos split to each side. The unfortunate recruit that got dislocated was the fallen but as we all know fallen heal quickly and the apparent injury has already repaired itself. The Rachet snatches a battle Axe from the waiting rack and circles around again. The Incubus chooses twin wakazashi swords and twirls them round like a pro. The fallen flaps his wings and moves to the air as he brandishes a heavy lance in his tight grip preparing for assault.
The twin Devil Pe'Ri' and Devil pair slowly split to center Lysandor between them and make him an elite sandwich. they slowly bide time till the opportunity opens up to strike. The devil produces a set of spiked nun-chucks and charges Lysandor. The Pe'Ri takes the high ground and vaults into the air. He comes down hard toward Lysandor's head.
As Ciel dances they all try their best to ignore her but not all have the clarity to focus on the task at hand.
|
|
Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
|
Post by Nyxereos on Nov 23, 2007 13:47:29 GMT -6
Nyxereos waists no time assessing his opponents. As the Fallen makes to the sky Nyxereos flips his long white hair out of his eyes and like a shot he is hot on the fallen's tail feathers. The fallen unaware at first but begins to panic as the silvery fallen grabs his feet. The scared recruit scrambles to climb higher kicking and stomping at Nyxereos trying to loosen the iron grip of the psychotic warrior.
Each blow makes Nyxereos sharper and the pain is nil as he grips the lance and swings the fallen around to slam him into the palace wall with a thunderous crash. As the fallen shakes off the blow, Nyxereos looks at him with a sly smirk as the stone around his opponent turns to liquid and draws the fallen deeper into the wall and traps him there when his limbs become encased in the solidifying stone high above the courtyard. Nyxereos dives down again. Satisfied with the fallen one out of the way the rest should be cake.
He dives down at the Rachet and he watches as the hound leaps toward Nyxereos. Unexpected as this tactic was, these hounds have proven to be unpredictable and very tough. Nyxereros simply continues his dive unwavering he twists and grapples the hound in mid leap. He picks up speed and slams both of them into the soil again.
This time Nyxereos slips into the ground like an Olympic diver with a splashless dive. But the Rachet is not so fortunate as he is planted hard into the ground breaking a few bones and is knocked unconscious by the blow.
His voice can be heard by everyone but Nyxereos is nowhere to be seen.
"You can run, but you can not hide from me... Incubus... the dark earth shall swallow you whole!
Like a ghost Nyxereos glides up behind the Incubus up from ground with a look of twisted joy on his face. He seizes the unsuspecting luccubi from behind by the back of his throat and lifts him kicking and squirming off the ground in his crushing grip.
"The dark earth shall crush you to dust.
|
|
|
Post by Lysandor on Nov 24, 2007 16:41:13 GMT -6
Lysandor turns to try and keep both Devil and Pe'ri in sight, but their positions on either side make it difficult. His eyes were on the Devil as he charges, the nunchuks whirling and whistling in the air. He feels the displacement of air as the Pe'ri uses his wings to his advantage.
The Elite grabs the nunchuk before it collides with his body and yanks, this time with the intention of moving himself rather than the Devil. The armor of his bracer's keeps most of the spikes from puncturing, but one does punch through. Despite his evasive efforts the Pe'ri manages a glancing blow to Lysandor's shoulder.
With a bruised shoulder and bleeding hand, Lysandor has even less of an advantage than when he had began. If this bothers him, he doesn't show it. He waits for the two recruits to regroup, given himself more time to come up with some strategy or other and watch the other three recruits as they fight Nyxereos. His eyes narrow as he sees the new Fallen attack the Leccubi, and his dark words reverberate in Lysandor's mind.
Lysandor charges between the Devil and Pe'ri, running as fast as his legs can carry him. He dives toward Nyxereos, trying to tackle him before he kills one of the recruits.
|
|
|
Post by Narrator on Nov 24, 2007 17:39:30 GMT -6
The Devil and Pe'ri criss cross before Lysandor to get under his guard. However, the Elite darts out from between them, they nearly collide and must maneuver to avoid collision with one another.
Lysandor's charge toward Nexereos is swift and Lysandor can see the Incubus' eyes roll up into his skull from the grip the mad fallen has clenched onto his throat.
The Devil and Pe'ri clip each other not being able to totally avoid hitting each other. A bit bruised but angry they double charge after Lysandor. Not the smartest of ideas but pride is a tyrannical mistress. They scream and wildly scramble after the stoic fallen...
|
|