Last edited by Tami; 02-01-2013 at 09:36 PM.
- Running on Adrenaline and Sheer Willpower.
- Trying to Stay Sane in an Insane World.
- Why Should Time Have Wings and Not I?
- Born in Wrong Comic Book Universe
Quote of the Month
"Stand back boy! This calls for divine intervention!...I kick ass for the Lord!"
- Father McGruder, Braindead
IC: Three inches was all that separated her and the interior of the building. But that critical delay in saying her farewells had denied her the opportunity to enter. The shadow stopped immediately as the barrier sprung back up, cutting her off from the entrance.
She stared increduously at the sight, before she started gnashing her teeth with rage.
Damn it! We can't rely on those fuckheads getting this done right!
She resisted the urge to punch the shielding. She wasn't exactly the kind that could actually survive that discharge.
Instead, she just held out her arm.
"Fuck. I was too slow." Her words were strained with anger.
A few seconds. For her, it might as well have been a lifetime. Never before had such a thing happened to her. She had prided herself on bringing justice to the guilty, the enemies of peace who had avoided punishment despite being unquestionably evil. They were small-time, but she knew that she'd be able to do something important one day. She'd prove that their form of justice wasn't wrong, that it was necessary in an imperfect world like theirs. They were needed to clean up the Paragons' mistakes.
And in that trivial gap, she had been shut down. An untrustworthy band of crazy little shits was going to take away her chance to do something right for the City. Her chance to make things right, to matter.
The air swirled gently for a second, before it was pulled into her grasp. The breeze become a gale, then a mini-tornado, then a raging vortex. It was like listening to the screams of dying angels as they were being torn apart, as the swirling maelstrom formed into a hammer in her hand.
It was a large weapon. If set on the ground vertically, it would be as tall as she was. Just over 6 feet of highly concentrated air that could crush and shred whatever it hit.
She turned around, a look of disdain on her scarred face. Volkov would not die at her hands today.
Fine. Perfectly fine.
So, she would just have to kill everybody that worked for him. Better now than later, when they had a chance to scatter.
She tapped her earpiece.
"Sorry, Milly. I couldn't get there in time." She sighed. "Well, you know what's next. It's the usual from here on out."
The first swing was done gently. She wanted them to understand what was going on, what they were up against. Wiping them all out with one attack wasn't going to let them understand their mistake.
She appeared in the middle of their group, and lightly tapped the floor with the hammer.
It was like a skyscraper was dropped into their formation. The soldiers were reduced to liquid, metal was reduced to dust, and all were swallowed up in a cacophony of wailing death. Blood and flesh shearing granules blasted out at multi-mach speed, killing even more people. They died horribly, sandblasted into a grisly carpet of half-shorn corpses. With that one swing, their ranks were broken.
She stood in the center of that inhuman carnage, utterly unscathed by the results of her attack. She stood there, slowly counting down the seconds.
1. 2. 3.
Okay, that was enough time for them to process it. Time enough to realize that they would never get a chance to leave here alive.
She continued her attack at full speed, annihilating Volkov's forces with ease. Neither her nor Milia would be affecting the battle that really mattered, so they had no other option.
If there was nothing life-affirming, nothing important for them to do... Then they would simply do their job.
After all, they were garbage collectors. And there was so much human trash here. Every single piece had to be disposed of properly.
Oh, it was tedious work. But somebody had to do it.
Casimir saw Rivia moving towards him and smiled fondly, glad that she seemed to be alright, before being pulled through a portal.
"Anyone hurt?" He asks, as he sets it to work on himself.
Last edited by Cleric of Hell's Brigade; 02-01-2013 at 10:35 PM.