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Baptism Of Fire- A Semi-Lit Marvelverse RP

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The dragon-spirit had hissed when the creature it was fighting rose up into the air and then roared, but even if it had been interested in the whys and wherefores it wouldn't have time to consider them; the cabin fever hit it then, the attack clawing at the spirit's sanity and trying to pull it down to the whirling waters of madness. It roared and shook it's head, stamping madly, the wards that held it to this world struggling to keep it's mind whole and sane.

For a second the wendigo was forgotten, the dragon's mind thrown back to the day it died- it had died feeling this terrible pressure, too, crushed under an avalanche of rocks when the humans it had filled it's stomach with finally rose up to rid themselves of it. Smothered by the memories it charged blindly, convinced that there were boulders crashing down around it and his murderer- the proud human who had watched as his life finally faded- was standing in front of him. A lash of it's tail smashed windows in a house yet undamaged by the fire and smoke. It crushed the bench under one taloned paw, it's mad ramapage forcing Hyplion to run further up the street for his own safety as the bin was sent spinning into the air.

Skullthief winced when the dragon-spirit started to loose control, feeling the spells that kept it bound to her will start to fray a little; without an elder of the clan around to rebind it, an escaped dragons-spirit- one gaining it's autonomy and freedom to move wherever it wished- would be yet another disaster. It would go back to killing whatever it saw, starting with them. She might be able to ward it off, but she wasn't so sure about the others... Frowning deeply, she took her fang-dagger and made a small nick in her thumb, squeezing it so it bled a little; then she held her skull helmet in one hand and dabbed the blood into a rough pentagram, muttering under her breath as she did so. "Ég binda þig aftur undir stjórn minni, draugur, þá skalt þú ekki óhlýðnast orð mitt. Hlusta og hlýða, draugur. Kastað burt reiði þína og sjá greinilega!"

The dragon-spirit's form seemed to change slightly, runes glowing with sickly green light as they seemed to swim under it's semi-transparent skin. It roared again, the spells that held it strengthening as it started to shake off the illusions and madness that tormented it. It faced the wendigo again, still convinced that it was a long-dead human but now utterly intent on killing it.

 

Hyplion watched the battle from his new perch, a chunk of rubble some way away; it was starting to get boring now, and there was a chance that his new ally could get damaged. If that happened, he would be forced to step in and use his Blank aura. Not to mention his lasgun.

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Connor's tongue flickered, watching the fight. It was difficult to see the dragon-spirit, seeing as it gave off little to no cold or heat, but he was making due. The cobra hissed once, curled around the massive wolf as it was. It's tail wrapped around the wolf's left hind leg twice before going over it's back and wrapping around it's chest. His head came up on the wolf's left and resting beside the wolf's head on the right. It was accustomed to riding like this, and the wolf was no more hindered than an elder gazelle.

 

Murph, too, was watching the fight, color-blind eyes taking everything in. One could assume that he thought it strange to have a cobra wrapped around him, but that assumption would be wrong. Over the years, the two had learned what was comfortable and what was not. What was safe and what was dangerous. Their fighting styles, even, were such that, in these forms, they were one creature. He cocked his ear back, listening to the cobra's hiss as he sat, watching the fight still. He shook his muzzle.

 

Looks like they're doing fine without our interference. Murph said, glancing at the cobra.

I agree, but let us stick around. I'm interested in the one that controls that...spirit. Much skill it takes, years of practicing control. Connor replied, hood flaring a little.

If we get noticed, I blame you, my brother. The wolf said, starching behind his left ear with his leg. He shrugged both his shoulders, tail flicking boredly.

Would that be so bad?

No, I would guess, but who are you to say they wont attack first ask later? After all, we two look like a pair of villains rather than heroes. We earned the name Devil's Twins for a reason.

You're right there, I suppose.

Edited by Songbreeze2012

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Young Jessica Parker stood there, trying to still figure out what just happened. A wendigo, yes, a wendigo, was attempting at eating her, then Skullthief rammed in and saved her life. She was glad she did it, very glad. She joined Skullthief's attempt at keeping the dragon sane, using her Mindworking in order to keep the illusions away and contaminate them somewhere far, perhaps inside the wendigo. That might do the trick, transferring the illusions to the wendigo! The small girl started focusing her mind, her hair floating above her and her eyes turning white, pale. She concentrated on the dragon and the wendigo. "Do not fear, dragon, I am here to help, nonetheless, help you with killing.. him." She pointed at the wendigo. "Absorb my powers, one, absorb them and free them at the wendigo." She said, slowly attempting to get the hallucionate on the wendigo. Perhaps he was immune to it, perhaps not? But at least she tried. Then she understood something, understood it deeply.. She was in a life or death situation, she could die any moment. She shook her head, her eyes then turning light blue with enragement. She looked at the wendigo, then at the dragon, then at Skullthief. She slowly changed forms.. changed forms into a large, skeletal being, similar to the dragon near her. She looked at herself with amazement. "Oh... what the.. censorkip.gif!" She thought to herself, grimacing with pain as the transformation occured. It was complete. She successfully copied the spirit's appearance. She successfully learnt her last power, undiscovered momentarily ago, now used for the first time. It was still weak, but still powerful enough to be used. She wasn't as strong as the spirit dragon, oh no, but perhaps she could intimidate the wendigo into running away from fear. She still concentrated on keeping the illusions away from the real dragon. It took much force from her, as she breathed heavily. She finished the ritual of the Mindworking, hoping the trick worked. She roared at the wendigo. "Perhaps.. I can go.. ghost-like, too?" She tried setting her mind into going blank, between worlds. She faded quickly, unaware of that. She then shook her head with much confusion. "Oh no no no noononono I am not going now, not now! I just tested!" She muttered to herself, shaking her head again. She turned a little solid once more, breathing. "Phew.." She said.

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Matchitehew watched with satisfaction as the creature started to go mad and stamp about wildly. Rubbing his hands together, he grinned. This was going perfectly, just splendidly. It was roaring and smashing benches, completely loosing control. Cackling, his red eyes were pleased red slits. What could go wrong now? Everything was working just as it should!

 

Suddenly everything seemed to stop. The girl cut her thumb and murmured words. The dragon was somehow grasped by sanity once more. Or perhaps not, all Matchitehew knew was that the dragon now looked at him with the clear intention of killing him. Perhaps now was the time to make a hasty retreat, considering there was a swarm of heroes and a dragon that desperately wanted to kill him. This was not going well at all. Shifting slightly, he groaned and looked at his claws. He'd just have to do this the old fashioned way, then.

 

Matchitehew took a running start and feigned a jump straight for the dragon. At the last second he curled into a ball and shot to the ground, heading under the beast before him. Once he was underneath he drew his claws, hoping he was quick enough that the dragon perhaps hadn't realized what was going on, or perhaps had but was slower than he was and wouldn't become un-solid again. So he raked his claws in a quick motion against it's underside, begging for it to be solid.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a snake and a wolf, but he wasn't sure. He couldn't concentrate on the people around him anymore, there were simply too many, and they were all pretty much heroes. That he knew of. If the wolf and snake happened to be on his side he would've asked them for their assistance, but he had a feeling that they weren't. He growled in desperation. Using his power had tired him, and this wasn't helping. But he had to survive, he was a survivor. That was how he became a wendigo, wasn't it? And now that stupid childish girl was trying to force his power on himself? Tch, that wouldn't work. For, you see, all his powers came from something he had survived. Dreamwalking: the process of becoming a wendigo. Brainfreeze: the cold chill that had been in that cabin. Cabin fever: the insanity that had possessed all of them and gripped them with fury during that winter. He had survived all of this, and he was immune to it. He was not, however, immune to the fact that there were now two dragons.

 

 

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((Just heard from Ruins that they are having problems posting. They will hopefully be able to fix it, but we don't know when.))

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((I love how you made him immune, PG. Tho Jessica is kinda immune to mental powers too, so just telling ya that dem Cabin fever won't affect her. IF IT WOULD, it'd be minor. You know how kids outrage then their powers become stronger? Yeah. Let's rock with that.))

 

Jessica's dragon form looked at the wendigo who tried to scar and claw the other dragon. She grunted and took a step next to him. She bent down and attempted at slashing with her gigantic claw at the wendigo who rolled underneath the other dragon's belly, the underside. The girl then backed after attempting to claw the wendigo. Did she hit? She never really paid attention to the actual reaction, more of still shocked because of her new power discovering. She then thought for a moment, what if she would turn into a wendigo and then scare that one off, but it won't work, no, he's smart, for sure. She knew it was a bad strategy to turn herself into a wendigo, too. She hadn't learnt much of the power yet, so for now she decided sticking to her dragon form. She tried clawing the wendigo again. Knowing her mental powers, she hoped that if he would attempt at making her insane, it won't affect her. She then let go a of a wild roar, hoping that maybe the sonic waves of the loud screech somehow might affect the wendigo, perhaps hurt or dizz his senses, blur them out momentarily, that would be good, too.

 

((Sorry for short post, I gtg..))

Edited by Brainiac

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"None of us are heroes yet, if you think about it... But we're getting there. Slowly...My name's Anna Novick-Pern, but everyone calls me Skullthief. It's an old tradition in my family, we change our names when we come of age. It's a bit like being a Time Lord in that respect, except we have one heart and not two. And we don't travel in time- just talk to dead people."

Krys moved back closer to Skullthief, no longer wary of the dagger, but wary of the fight ensuing. She manifested a golf-ball-sized sphere of flame and rolled it from hand to hand. "So far I just go by 'Krys.' I think my dad was a retired hero, but he never told me. He never taught me the nuances of a name or a legacy. I've never had that type of family tradition." Despite the sad tone of her own musings, Krys grinned at the Dr. Who reference. "Ok, so maybe you've only got one heart, but you'd make my day if you had a TARDIS."

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There were two middle aged women behind the counter who had been deep in conversation when Tarot entered the shop. They stopped the moment they saw her and stared at her suspiciously. People who wore clothes like that these days were either heros or villians. Regular folk hardly wore such fancy threads for a trip to the shops.

 

"Can I help you?" inquired the woman near the door leading to the back room, ready to do a runner if Tarot did anything troublesome.

 

Tarot, who had been looking around the store and its wares with interest, suddenly focused on the woman who spoke with such severity that the woman actually took a few steps back.

 

"Die."

 

Both woman gave a little cry of fright and made as if to run for the back door, but they progress was suddenly hindered. The woman who had spoken to Tarot was overcome by the most searing pain. It felt as if someone had just filled her bones with lava. Screaming she tumbled to the floor and writhed about, inadvertenly knocking her co-worker over. By the time the second woman had managed to climb back to her feet despite painfull throes of her friend, it was too late. Tarot was behind the counter with them.

 

~~~

 

A few minutes later Tarot walked out of the shop with a chocolate eclair. Looking up and down the street she bit into it and chewed away quite happily. As she reached the corner the bakery exploded, the gas in the kitchens finally setting alight.

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((I'm going to withdraw from this RP. With Ruins gone and nobody else posting I don't think it's worth it. Just figured I should let any other lurkers kow.))

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