Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Faces In The Dark

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    Mortis
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Mon Jan 16, 2017 6:58 pm

    Whatever this thing was, it was fast. Mortis watched as the intruder ducked aside of the bale with all the agility that could be expected of his own brothers, its body a pale blur even to his senses. It crouched low upon the ground, and for a few moments the both of them simply stared one another down. Who would move first? Mortis' talons flexed and tensed into jagged claws at his sides. He could read its thoughts, he knew that it knew he could read its thoughts.

    A gnarled hand pushed aside the edge of his overcoat, reflexively searching to rest upon the stock of his shotgun. His rotted, green fingers brushed only upon the cloth of his belt instead. The undead's thoughts tensed at the absence of what had quickly become a faithful and favored weapon in situations of uncertainty. Where could it have gone--?

    Then, he remembered. Like a lightning flash through his skull he remembered that he left it by the front door, upon the shoe rack. A rookie mistake, a rookie mistake that often proved to be fatal. For a chilling moment, the undead felt as if his skull was as empty as his brother jokingly claimed from time to time. Green fingers flexed, and returned to where they sat at his side. It seemed he would have to deal with this thing the old fashioned way, if it came down to it. Even so, the undead superfiend was uncertain if his rotting touch would work upon something that already looked so corrupted and withered. The outcome of that one incident where he tried to rot Death, or more , the Death from the future, that was dressed as an old woman for some reason, came to mind.

    "I am already decayed!" He had spat. And he was.

    Would this creature be subject to the same laws, or would it turn to dust like any other being of flesh and bone? It seemed solid enough despite its peculiar properties. The ghoul continued to scan the being's thoughts, hoping to dredge up a clue without having to delve too deeply into a mind so foreign. It was contemplating him, it was considering his powers, it knew that he was unfamiliar with it. That alone was enough for the superfiend to hiss and erect his own mental barriers, blocking out the strange, pale entity. They both could keep their secrets close to their chest, if that was how this evening was going to play out.

    It did not move, he did not move...

    And suddenly, it spoke. The sheep-skulled undead knew that this being held some degree of intelligence, but he did not expect it to initiate a conversation. Especially after he threw a hay bale at it.

    It was... Impressed? Mortis's guard remained raised despite the creature's compliments. It had to be a tactic to make him relax and lower his defenses, either to escape or to trick and pull something sinister over on him. The fact that it called him "brother" did not help matters either.

    Regardless, maybe there would be some worth to humoring this entity.

    "My methodsss and where I learned them are none of your concern, tresspassser." Mortis' tone was kept level, and he placed a little more pressure upon the entity's mind to ensure it remembered what it was dealing with. "What are you doing here, at my home?"




    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:19 pm

    The howling wind outside was the only sound to be heard within that darkened barn for a few long, tense moments. The sheep-skulled creature stared down the ashen-skinned being that had mistakenly come to visit the humble farm. What had started as a hunt and a confrontation had come to an abrupt halt, as the two dark entities stood but a few yards away from each other.

    It had expected, waited in anticipation in the back of its mind, that perhaps this creature would not actually humor it. That maybe another bale of hay would come flying into its face, or perhaps the sheep-skulled entity would unleash his hellish magic once again.

    What a surprise, that he actually decided to speak.

    His graveled voice was kept level, even. A dark, leathery eyelid twitched slightly as the skeletal being felt a pressure upon its mind, its very spirit. The fellow dark presence evidently did not want it to get comfortable around him, and it was not comfortable with it either. A trespasser, a possible enemy... That was what the beast skull headed being thought of it. Very well, he might not have been as naive as the dark spirit was hoping, but this particular creature could still possibly be reasoned with. After all, if he were not, likely he would have attacked it again by now.

    Another strong gust shook the barn’s thin walls, and the latched barn door shuddered behind him. Its escape was so close, and yet the scant time it would take to get to the door and unlock it would be overlong.

    The ashen-skinned being cleared its throat, more to try and rid itself of the thick, nearly suffocating sensation of the sheep skull headed being’s aura. His presence lingered within its mouth and throat like it had inhaled a desert’s worth of sand and coarse dust.

    ”Trespasser?” The entity echoed, seemingly ignoring the other’s tension. ”I am a wanderer, a traveler. I trespass no more than a bird trespasses through the air above your head.  I carried no intent to intrude or trespass onto your... Home. It simply was in the way of my wandering.”

    Of course, that was partially a lie. But it would not give that away to this dangerous supernatural being, not when it could possibly scamper off unscathed.

    ”So, brother. If you could kindly open the door, I will be on my way.” It hoarsely finished, every word cut a fresh tear into its tattered lips, and drew a fresh line of dark blood down its mouth.

    A spindly, emaciated arm rose with a series and pops and crackles, pointing towards the locked barn door. Certainly there would be no harm in simply letting this entity run off, especially since it clearly was uninterested in fighting.




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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:21 pm

    Mortis kept his eye sockets upon the creature as it stood in the dark, with his dark clothing, the only light to be found in the barn was the ever dull red glow that burned in his eye sockets. In fact, it likely was the only thing that gave away that the superfiend was even in the barn to begin with, aside from the overwhelming stink of decay and crushing sense of malice. However, given the entity’s thoughts, he doubted that it was as blind as the average mortal.

    Silently he watched and listened as the entity coughed through his aura as it clogged its nose and throat. Soon enough, the pale creature replied. It’s voice was ever hoarse and thin, but for some reason it spoke as if it had not broken into the barn, or startled his animals.

    This creature, whatever it was, seemed oddly amiable despite its circumstance.

    ”Sssss...” There was something about that which rubbed the undead the wrong way. It probably was the fact that this thing was outright lying.

    ” Perhapsss I would be ssso inclined to believe you, if you actually had made any moves that sssuggessted you were sssimply wandering.” Mortis rebuked the intruder’s attempt at defending itself like the flimsy wafer-thin argument it was. ”You lingered around my housse, and when presssed you sssought ssshelter in my barn inssstead of running back into whatever wildsss you wandered in from. ”

    As for them being brothers, the undead gave a sharp hiss. The entity’s claims were starting to grate upon his already thinning patience.

    "Ceassse your sssentimental prattle. You will find no kin in me, tressspassser.” He warned, talons flexing.

    He did not need to say that he would not be letting the creature go, his actions and tone spoke loudly enough as it was.




    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:22 pm

    This spirit was an irritable one, the ashen-skinned creature could give him that. It’s attempt to argue it s innocence was firmly backhanded with... well, its own actions. The other being saw it scrambling around the house, he saw it run into the barn instead of back out into the snow storm and beyond. Needless to say, its lie had been shattered like sugar glass.

    But, it could get around that little hiccup easily, or so it confidently thought.

    ”Well, I suppose there is no avoiding it, I must admit the sensation that surrounded this particular place caught my attention. I was curious, there is no crime in that.” It explained,  shifting its weight from one skeletal leg to the other. ” I also had not expected there to be a chase, your sudden... Attention, startled me. I panicked and thought it best to try and wait until you calmed down before I moved on. Evidently that was not the case. Certainly you understand this?”

    There was no lie in that it had been curious, but as for what it had been curious about... It decided the best and wisest route was  to keep that vague. There was nothing to gain in spilling everything to someone that had not yet been recognized as a friend, but had a high potential to be a devastating foe.

    The ashen-skinned creature visibly flinched at the other’s rebuttal, clawed fingers rising up near its chest as it took a step back. Not only did this creature fail to believe it was innocently wandering around, but he also did not see it as a brother. Interesting, considering how similar they were. The emaciated, pale corpse eased some from its tense posture, its sickly eyes squinting slightly as its head tilted curiously to one side.

    ”But we are.” It began in that same, cold hollow voice. ”Are our auras not similar? Are we not dark, ever hungry spirits? You and I are both inhuman, Wendigo. You may look different than I, but at heart I believe we are more kin than you think.”

    A jagged, black claw swayed limply upward to point in the sheep-skulled entity’s direction.

    ”We are brothers, I can see it in your very soul.” It pressed, completely convicted in its words.




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    Action: ????'s identity is revealed!
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:24 pm

    There was a creak as Mortis’ claws tensed. Curious, it said... Right, of course it was. Something about this entity told him that perhaps that statement was little more than a partial truth. But it was not the curiosity that he doubted, it was more the intent of its curiosity. Likely it would not have come over here if it figured that the malignant aura Mortis had left was made by a more powerful spiritual entity.

    ”Sssssss...” Still, he let it speak, though he could not fathom why. This thing was a nuisance with its attempts to sound innocent.

    ”I underssstand that you do not sssay the complete truth.” Mortis rasped, his tail flicking irritably beneath the layers of his clothing. ”I do not appreciate your evassiveness, not when I can read your thoughts. You did not come here for simple curiosity alone, you were looking for something. Be ssstraightforward, lessst I rip your intentionsss out of your rotten ssskull myssself.”

    And it was a warning he would be glad to make good on proving.

    Empty sockets glared into the intruder’s sickly eyes, observing as the entity flinched. Evidently his tongue was far more pointed than he initially thought.

    As the being had tilted its head, the next words out of its tattered mouth threw the retired Dark Judge for a loop. Yellowed talons clenched and balled into insulted fists at his sides, and a low threatening hiss escaping his emaciated host.

    ”What?” Mortis spat, clearly unimpressed with this thing’s... delusion.

    He remembered being called a wendigo only once during his entire stay here, and it was by some ignorant fool that lived out in the middle of nowhere. He had paid for his idiocy with his life, though the undead superfiend would have claimed it regardless of what the man had thought to call him. But even so, now this creature had a name, an identity. This was what the man had mistaken him for during that fateful winter night.

    ”I am not a wendigo,” Mortis curtly corrected, ”I am Mortisss, I am an undead sssuperfiend. We are nothing alike."

    And if this wendigo had a proper mid in that rotten head upon its shoulders, it would know not to press the issue any further.




    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/120

    Power: None
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    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Being uninterested in what the Wendigo is selling
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:26 pm

    Hiss, hiss, hiss... This one certainly liked to hiss.

    The ashen skinned entity, now known as wendigo, squinted again as the sheep-skulled spirit once again decided that he wanted to take the challenging route. He could have simply accepted the corpse-like visitor’s story for what it was, he could have simply been satisfied with the fact that it was just curious about the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet, here he was, still interrogating and grilling its ashen hide like he intended to smoke it into a fashionable leather.

    ”You are oddly persistent.” The wendigo pointed out, equally nonplussed with the other’s behavior. ”What business is it of you, to know why I came here? I had said earlier that I have intended to leave, and I still intend to do so. I have no interest in lingering around your home.”

    Even with its statement, the wintery spirit could not deny that the knowledge of the fellow spirit constantly reading its thoughts put it on edge. It knew that the sheep-skull headed undead could read what it was thinking, what it intended to do and likely what it was planning. The corpse-like creature took a step back, its earlier confidence waning again. He could even tell that the malignant spirit was searching for something. Inwardly the entity cursed to itself.

    ”But, if it is straightforward that you want... I suppose I could humor you.” It began slowly, tilting its head back to an upright position again, ”I had been hoping to find something a little more worthwhile. As you had already stated, you know my thoughts, certainly you know of my hunger as well. Just as we exude a negative energy, so too do the living who are under duress.”

    The wendigo likely did not need to say anything further for its captor to know what all this alluded to.

    Yet, given how this evening was going, the spiritual entity was beginning to lose confidence that it would be able to leave without too much conversation. Already it had spoken far too often than it did in a usual day or night. The remains of its chewed off lips were now steadily trickling with black blood, unaccustomed to long-winded conversation. The pitch black ooze dripped off its chin and splattered in a slowly growing puddle on the dirt floor.

    It suspicions were only proven further when the sheep-skull headed spirit voiced his dismay at being compared to the creature’s kin.

    ”Mortis...” The wendigo tasted the name, ”An odd name, but fitting to your, hm, state. I have not heard of an undead superfiend, you are the first I have come across.”

    The admittance was ended as the entity stepped back and deliberately grabbed the hay bale that had been cast its way prior. Long, skeletal arms pulled it forward from where it sat against the door, and the wendigo patted its surface with its palms, as if to soften it.

    ”So long as you intend to keep interrogating me, I suppose you would not mind if I sit.” It commented, its joints crackling and popping as the wayward spirit turned and rigidly sat itself down on the hay bale.

    ”Perhaps at the same time, I could become better acquainted with what an undead superfiend is.” It added, resting its long, clawed fingers upon its knees. ”But of course, that is only a suggestion.”




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    Action: Having a chat, and a seat.
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:30 pm

    ”And you are oddly insssolent, for a being who claimsss to want no trouble.” Mortis returned, a sneer lacing his tone. ”Sssince you have decided to tresspasss upon my home, and act ssso sssusspicioussly, why you are here will be my bussinesss.”

    And it would be in the spirit’s best interests to cooperate, if it did not want to start eating its own body for its next meal. The undead superfiend hissed once more as the pale corpse tried again to defend its initial alibi of wanting to leave.

    ”If you truly meant that, we would not be ssstanding here and having thisss conversssation. Drop the act, beassst.” Certainly it would have not tried to hide in the hay bales, and it would have bolted for the fence instead and swiftly vaulted it into the every expansive wilderness.

    Much to the undead’s pleasant surprise, the entity did decide to be a little more forthcoming in its intentions. From what it was saying, it had mistakened Mortis’ aura for some mortals in distress. On one hand, it made sense; in the vast Mega City it was not uncommon for ghosts and poltergeists to be drawn from the ether by a mortal mind’s darker, moodier thoughts and haunt them. A spirit like this one was evidently no different. When the wendigo mentioned hunger however... Suddenly the imagery that Mortis had picked up from its psychic imprint in the snow made so much more sense.

    ”...You mean you hunt and eat the living?” The superfiend rasped, putting two and two together. ”You are correct then, that your curiosssity isss missplaced, the only mortalsss here are a bird and a sheep. They will not sssate your appetite.”

    Even if they did, the undead superfiend would not let this entity anywhere near them.

    Within the spirit’s thoughts, Mortis could easily read that it was not used to  long conversations. Likely this was an entity that tended to remain quiet, far too preoccupied with its hunting and feeding to bother with talking. Empty eye sockets watched as the thing bled upon itself and the floor of the barn. Not only was this creature an obnoxious nuisance but it also was making a damn mess wherever it stood... And where it decided to sit.

    ”Get your arssse off that hay bale!” Mortis snapped, and the little patience he had finally withered itself away the moment the Wendigo thought to plant its bony rear on Woolie’s feed.

    Whatever familiarity that the spirit had sought to gain fell upon deaf ears. Within the blink of an eye, Mortis had closed the distance between him and the skeletal looking spirit. A blur of sickly green and rancid yellow sliced through the darkness, striking down like lightning towards the Wendigo’s bony face.




    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/120 -0AP, basic attack

    Power: None
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    Cooldown: --
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Knocking a foetid five across the Wendigo's eyes! 1c/1d


    Last edited by Mortis on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:30 pm; edited 1 time in total
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:30 pm

    The member 'Mortis' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    #1 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #2 'Attack/Heal (56-60)' : 17
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 2:25 pm

    The wendigo’s leathery, bald brow rose slightly. Insolent was it? It would not be the first time that the evil spirit had been cursed, but usually it did not have to suffer being cursed at length beyond a horrified bark from its prey. In fact it usually did not have to suffer any other sounds from another being for more than a brief instant, many of the spirit’s days and nights spent silently on the hunt, following the stink of mortal men.

    Regardless, if voicing his business in this part of the wilderness ensured that it would be able to leave and resume its hunt, then its business was the sheep-skull headed spirit’s business.

    ”Act?” It echoed, the wendigo’s hollow voice conveying a sense of confusion. ”I have said before, spirit, I have no reason to act like anything other than what you see before you. I have nothing to gain in needlessly aggravating another entity.”

    But it was true, the pale emaciated creature could have simply slipped off into the night instead of hiding in the barn. There was little point in pressing that matter, however. Just as this Mortis would keep claiming that the wendigo was acting suspicious, the wendigo would keep defending that it was not. Because, to it, there was nothing suspicious about hiding from something that could easily best it in a fight.

    Besides, they were finally starting to get along.

    ”You would be correct in both statements.” It replied calmly, its sickly eyes squinting a little as the ruptured flesh of its lips tugged themselves into the bloody fascimile of a grin.

    The wendigo was constantly on the hunt for something sweeter, something far more tender to sate its hunger, if only for a brief spell. Animals were too tough, and their flavor far too gamey and gritty for this creature’s particular palette. It longed for the supple meat that could be found by cutting away not fur or feathers, but thick winter clothing and thin papery skin. Saliva mingled with the constant, slow drip of blood from its tattered lips at the very thought.

    A skeletal wrist rose from where it was placed upon the corpse-like entity’s knee to wipe away the slimy moisture from its chin, and smeared some of its black, rancid blood upon it in the process.

    Alas, such fantasies were short lived. Out of the corner of its eye, it managed to catch a fleeting flash of moment, alongside an outraged holler. Sickly eyes widened and dead pupils constricted. Much like Mortis had been a blur of fury, the wendigo’s body became a flash of pale white flesh and scrambling limbs. Mortis’ clawed hand snapped itself across nothing but air, and when the undead superfiend managed to recover from his whiff, he would find the wendigo was gone.

    ”Quite a temper.” Came the creature’s voice, echoing off the barn walls. ”You did not need to strike me, by the way. I would have been willing to move aside if you simply asked...”

    There was a scratching of claws upon wood. It traveled from the left, to the right, and then was coming from above.

    ”But, I have my own suspicions that this is not so much a question of need, but of want.” If Mortis were to look in the direction of the spirit’s sardonic tone, he would find his intruder latched firmly to the ceiling beams like some form of massive insect, staring down at him.

    So much for getting along.




    Wendigo

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    Action: Skittering up to the ceiling!
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    Mortis
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sun Jan 22, 2017 2:27 pm

    The undead superfiend had seen many acts during his line of work, and how the wendigo was acting definitely looked and sounded very much like an act. A low hiss blew from Mortis’ skull in an irritated sigh.

    ”For one who sssaysss they have nothing to gain from aggravating me, you certainly make a point of doing ssso anyway.” Mortis pointed out, his empty sockets watching the wendigo’s every move.

    Except, somehow, the one move where the spiritual entity had raced out form under his hand like an overgrown spider. Rancid green flesh and sickly yellow claws sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. no flesh could be heard slapping soundly against his palm, and neither was there the satisfying thud of a starved body being knocked to the ground. Much like the last time it had decided to evade him, the bony thing left no trace of its movement, or that it had even been sitting on the hay bale in the first place.

    ”Ssssss...” Mortis looked around, he could hear the entity, but he could not exactly see it.

    Where could it have run off to?

    Though he could not rightfully see it, unfortunately he could still hear its thin voice teasing him from wherever it had thought to hide this time.

    ”You ssshould not have decided you needed to have a ssseat on my animal’sss feed. Lessst I am missstaken, you mussst be well aware of how bare you are.” Mortis returned pointedly.

    If there was one thing he could not stand other than an upstart of a trespasser, it was one that thought it necessary to plant its naked, bony butt on his things.

    The sound of claws scraping dully upon wood echoed around the barn, and the undead superfiend swiveled on his heels to follow it. It was left, it was right, and it was up. With a sharp snap of withered flesh and bone, Mortis briskly turned his attention up to the ceiling. Latched to the beams like some spindly bug, was none other than the wendigo. Sickly eyes stared down at him, and dull red pinpricks glared back at the increasingly obnoxious evil spirit.

    ”Oh no, you are missstaken,” The sheep-skull headed undead hissed, his tone carrying a faux sense of reassurance. "I do not want to ssstrike you, wendigo, I want to beat you.”







    Mortis
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    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/120

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    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Getting real sick of the wendigo's Stomm
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 2:28 pm

    Thin, ashen shoulders crackled and popped with a small shrug. ”Those who grow aggravated do so because they allow themselves to become aggravated.”

    In other words, Mortis was only doing this to himself. He was the only one to blame for his discontentment. But, that certainly did not stop him from trying to take it out on the spindly corpse.

    From his vantage point on one of the ceiling beams, the wendigo’s sickly gaze watched as the stronger dark spirit turned and searched, those eye sockets looking every which way but up. If this were a mere mortal, perhaps it would have been a prime opportunity to leap down and take them by surprise. Clawed fingers dug into the wood of the beam, and its eyes glared down from where they were sunken into its starved face with predatory attentiveness... But the wendigo refrained from leaving its perch.

    Perhaps the sheep-skull headed being truly did not know where it was, or maybe it was simply toying with it, inviting a poor move.

    ”There is no shame in my appearance.” The wendigo replied from its vantage point. ”I have no need to hide myself from the elements, and cloth is a very restricting, annoying thing on its own.”

    Clothing snagged on everything and anything that it managed to brush up against, and even a few things that one would think it was not supposed to be close to touching! Coats caught and pulled on barren branches, thorny vines tangled easily in thick pants, and things that were long and flowing happily entangled themselves in everything that the wearer would rather they did not. Not to mention all the betraying smells that cloth could take on. Covering oneself was more of a hassle than a boon, in the wendigo’s opinion.

    Besides, there was nothing really all that scandalous that needed to be covered to begin with.

    It’s thick neck twisted as it tilted its head, staring down at Mortis as he stared up at it. His false reassurance, and the following threat that came after managed to draw a dull huff from the pale entity.

    ”Mercy me, a beating!” It replied, but the wendigo did not sound all that intimidated. ”Methinks your request is going to be nothing short of impossible.”

    The wendigo shifted where it clung to the beam upside down, and its neck twisted itself further, until it cork-screwed around to allow the wendigo’s head to stare down at the undead superfiend with his chin resting squarely between the sharp lines of its shoulder blades.

    ”You are down there, and I am up here.” It smugly commented, fairly confident in its position on the ceiling.

    And it was going to stay up there, for as long as it needed to.




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    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sun Jan 22, 2017 2:36 pm

    ”Ssssss... I do not need to take advice from the likesss of you, and you have no bussinesss ssaying I let myssself get aggravated when you clearly are being antagonissstic.” The undead snarled, and with his irritation, the inside of the barn grew all the more heavy and thick with malice.

    Maggots squirmed in a thick, slimy mass at his feet. They writhed upon his clawed toes and squished into a greyish slime beneath his heel as he turned to face the wendigo fully from where it was clinging to the beam above him. Likely it had a very nice view of the black blight that slowly spread in a circular radius around him, crawling among the dirt and permanently staining it pitch black. All manner of carrion insects and worms crawled and wriggled out of the blighted earth to scatter in a frenzy.

    ”You frighten my animalsss, break into my barn and hide, you put your rotten arssse on their food, and now you are hanging off of the ceiling. What bussinesss have you to tell me about aggravation?” The superfiend hissed, his graveled voice conveyed  rage that was thinly veiled beneath his cold exterior.

    He was not going to begin to say anything about how the creature seemed to loathe clothing. It did not matter, he could see exactly how much damage he set upon the entity’s body easier without it anyway. Watching it bleed would be all the more satisfying.

    And so too would it be satisfying to rip the smug tone out of its throat.

    ”I do not need to get up to you, wendigo. I jussst have to bring you down to my level.” Mortis hissed, his tone seemed to reflect the morbid grin that was permanently stretched upon his skull from ear to ear.

    At once all of the undead’s malice seemed to collect and direct itself like an arrow, its tip pointed straight at the wendigo’s being. Psychic tendrils eagerly sank themselves into its lanky limbs, and lashed the undead superfiend’s will to them fast and firm. Its limbs no longer would obey the wendigo’s will, as a greater master manipulated them like a puppet upon unseen strings.

    ”Get down here.” Mortis sneered between his teeth, and forced the wendigo’s limbs to release from the beam.





    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/110 -10AP

    Power: Domination (psychic manipulation): Specifics: 2c, those that hit determine the strength of the Domination.
    x1 HIT: weak domination for one turn, opponent may flip a coin to break control.
    x2 HIT: Strong domination, opponent is under Mortis’ complete control for one turn.

    Weapon: None
    Cooldown: Domination, 5 turns
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Psychically prying the Wendigo off the ceiling.
    avatar
    System
    Portal Master

    Portal Master

    Posts : 8153
    Join date : 2009-05-04
    Location : Mother Computer
    Level : ??

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)
    Health Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)
    Stamina Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Sun Jan 22, 2017 2:36 pm

    The member 'Mortis' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    'Coin Flip' :
    avatar
    Universal NPC
    Non-Player Character

    Non-Player Character

    Posts : 926
    Join date : 2009-12-09
    Level : ??

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 4:44 pm

    Startling the animals, running into the barn, hanging off the ceiling; yes, the wendigo could agree he was guilty of doing all of those. But there was one crucial detail that the undead superfiend was overlooking: The wendigo could care less. So what if it sent a sheep into a frenzy of bleating, and what harm was there really in planting himself on a bale of hay? All that the creature cared about was getting out of here, and finding itself a fresh meal.

    After all, the third option of trying to find some sort of common ground with this sheep-skulled spirit flew out of probability the moment it decided to sit, apparently.

    ”My business is whatever I wish it to be.” The wendigo replied, the calmness of its voice clashing with the harsh chill of Mortis’ tone. ”Your aggravation is directed -wrongly- at me, so I make it my business. But we have already come to this conclusion.”

    If nothing else, the wendigo was at least going to try and stop this cycle of being interrogated regarding its motives and actions. Where one cycle would end, however, another began. Its leathery eyelids crinkled in a squint down at the sheep-skulled undead on the ground, or more, his challenge.

    ”Hm, that seems like a tall order from where I see it.” The remains of the wendigo’s lips cracked and split as it grinned down at the superfiend.

    How was he going to get it down from the beam without any ropes, or even a net? They both knew it was swift enough to scurry out of harm’s way faster than the naked eye could keep up. To its horror, the wendigo soon learned the answer. The malice that permeated the room suddenly became focused and sharp, stabbing itself into the pale corpse’s body like a harpoon. It could feel a foreign will entangle itself within its limbs and draw itself taught like a thousand thin wires. Its body was no longer its body, as it felt its limbs betray its will, and instead try to carry out the whims of the sheep-skull headed undead below it.

    ”Hnng... No...” The wendigo hissed to itself, straining to fight this alien mind and keep itself on the high ground.




    Wendigo

    HP: ????

    Action: Fighting Mortis' Domination!


    Last edited by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 4:46 pm; edited 1 time in total
    avatar
    System
    Portal Master

    Portal Master

    Posts : 8153
    Join date : 2009-05-04
    Location : Mother Computer
    Level : ??

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)
    Health Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)
    Stamina Bar:
    100000/100000  (100000/100000)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Sun Jan 22, 2017 4:44 pm

    The member 'Universal NPC' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    'Coin Flip' :

      Current date/time is Sat Jul 29, 2017 7:43 am