Post by Selena Tiber on Apr 5, 2008 17:48:54 GMT -5
Arden panted, pushing all of his energy into this last fight. Shoving a hand into one of his various pockets, he pulled out a grenade. However, it failed miserably as it was such a bad throw that the creature dodged with ease and the bomb only shattered some ugly goat-thing's horn.
He blinked. Arden was starting to get very worried. Most of his confidence had left him and it was sheer idiotic stubbornness that kept him going. This was bad, and he knew it. His vision was blurring and eventually, he'd need the healing trench. Slowly, carefully, and still keeping an eye on his adversary (who was starting to look slightly attractive, in spite of the blunt claws, pointy, yellow teeth, narrowed red eyes, and unmentionable...well, unmentionables), Arden backed towards the healing trench.
Another blink. The thing was DEFINITELY attractive now. Somewhere in the shadowy recesses of Arden's admittedly small brain, a flare went off. A shape-shifter? Was that what this was? Because if so, that meant it could be anything. And the attractive redhead clad in delicious leather was certainly not anything. It was everything. She also wore a black leather mask over her eyes, her piercing, green eyes. Her full head of luscious hair came out in a wave of amazing---Wait. Since when did Arden use descriptives like this? Not ever. Unless it was in one of his awesome Karia dreams...in which he never recalled narrating anything or in some prank letter he wrote to Alec, Arden could never recall using such vivid descriptives in either case, though he made a mental note to do so (as well as actually SEND Alec the hilarious letter). But none of that was the point. The point was, well...he shouldn't be thinking any of it about some...shape-shifting beauty. Not even if he wanted to grab her and....NO!
Bad Arden, he thought to himself.
All he had to do was concentrate on the point of it all. Which was not to give into his admittedly, LARGE feelings for the woman in the formfitting leather, but to kill her. Kill her? Really? Was that what he was supposed to do? But that would just be cruel. Because how could he destroy something so incredible? And then a familiar meeting came into his head. A meeting that Vissiand had held not too long ago about the monsters they'd be encountering. Hot chick. Bad thoughts. And was that a dagger in her hand? Or would she just kill him by sucking the life, among other things, from him? Yeah. One plus one equaled two. Then lips plus hair equals succubus.
Okay, here we go. Just kill h-- Before he could get another word out, the woman strode forward and kissed him full on the mouth. At first he struggled, but then all thoughts gave way.
After what seemed like years, Arden felt his knees give a bit. BUGGER! This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Not at all. There was going to be champagne and a hotel room involved, and preferably someone he'd known for more then five seconds. In a rush of sudden, inexplicable brain activity, Arden remembered his plan. After Vissiand had informed them all of the dangers of women who fulfilled your wildest dreams, (aka: not Natty or Renny), Arden had done a little research and discovered that demons of this particular....nature, didn't like iron.
His arms wouldn't move. Another sign that this was not good, because usually, such things came naturally to him. This was definitely not normal. Finally, he got a tiny bit of strength and pushed the woman off. Wiping his mouth, and shaking a bit, he pushed her again when she took a step closer.
Oi...Did she just give me the eye?
Shaking his head to distract himself from her gaze, Arden began a frantic search of his pockets, which was made harder not just by his shaking arms but by the fact that Leather-Lady was touching him again. He made another mental note to turn that into a comic book, and tried desperately to ignore her forceful advances. Her fingers twisted his hair and a hand ran down his back. The rest of the battle seemed non-existent. It was as if they were in a totally different place.
Iron...Iron....Iron....Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.....just keep....Iron...Iron...Iron...Iron...
And just when he'd almost given way to the pressure, Arden found what he was looking for. A tiny. Iron. Frying pan. He pulled it out, and, in the name of a fanfic that he so much enjoyed, whacked her in the face with it. It wasn't a big frying pan, but it did leave a burn mark on her face. He smacked her a few more times before the shape-shifter within got agitated and turned back into the demon, who wasn't ready to be shanked by the frying pan. Nor was it ready for the knife that plunged into its back afterwards.
"And that is for not being a very good kisser! And that is for touching my hair! Do you know how hard I worked to get it pretty for the battle today, you bounder? And that is for...oh. Well. No need, you're dead." He crawled the last bit of distance to the edge of the trench, and stood up, ready to jump in and get help, both mentally and physically, when an imp with one foot soared towards him on a pole, knife in hand. Before he could say anything, it cut off his left arm and he was left with only the small amount of time to get "Bugger" in, before shock, pain, and gravity took over and he flumped into the trench, face first. Arden blacked out as soon as he hit the ground.
He blinked. Arden was starting to get very worried. Most of his confidence had left him and it was sheer idiotic stubbornness that kept him going. This was bad, and he knew it. His vision was blurring and eventually, he'd need the healing trench. Slowly, carefully, and still keeping an eye on his adversary (who was starting to look slightly attractive, in spite of the blunt claws, pointy, yellow teeth, narrowed red eyes, and unmentionable...well, unmentionables), Arden backed towards the healing trench.
Another blink. The thing was DEFINITELY attractive now. Somewhere in the shadowy recesses of Arden's admittedly small brain, a flare went off. A shape-shifter? Was that what this was? Because if so, that meant it could be anything. And the attractive redhead clad in delicious leather was certainly not anything. It was everything. She also wore a black leather mask over her eyes, her piercing, green eyes. Her full head of luscious hair came out in a wave of amazing---Wait. Since when did Arden use descriptives like this? Not ever. Unless it was in one of his awesome Karia dreams...in which he never recalled narrating anything or in some prank letter he wrote to Alec, Arden could never recall using such vivid descriptives in either case, though he made a mental note to do so (as well as actually SEND Alec the hilarious letter). But none of that was the point. The point was, well...he shouldn't be thinking any of it about some...shape-shifting beauty. Not even if he wanted to grab her and....NO!
Bad Arden, he thought to himself.
All he had to do was concentrate on the point of it all. Which was not to give into his admittedly, LARGE feelings for the woman in the formfitting leather, but to kill her. Kill her? Really? Was that what he was supposed to do? But that would just be cruel. Because how could he destroy something so incredible? And then a familiar meeting came into his head. A meeting that Vissiand had held not too long ago about the monsters they'd be encountering. Hot chick. Bad thoughts. And was that a dagger in her hand? Or would she just kill him by sucking the life, among other things, from him? Yeah. One plus one equaled two. Then lips plus hair equals succubus.
Okay, here we go. Just kill h-- Before he could get another word out, the woman strode forward and kissed him full on the mouth. At first he struggled, but then all thoughts gave way.
After what seemed like years, Arden felt his knees give a bit. BUGGER! This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Not at all. There was going to be champagne and a hotel room involved, and preferably someone he'd known for more then five seconds. In a rush of sudden, inexplicable brain activity, Arden remembered his plan. After Vissiand had informed them all of the dangers of women who fulfilled your wildest dreams, (aka: not Natty or Renny), Arden had done a little research and discovered that demons of this particular....nature, didn't like iron.
His arms wouldn't move. Another sign that this was not good, because usually, such things came naturally to him. This was definitely not normal. Finally, he got a tiny bit of strength and pushed the woman off. Wiping his mouth, and shaking a bit, he pushed her again when she took a step closer.
Oi...Did she just give me the eye?
Shaking his head to distract himself from her gaze, Arden began a frantic search of his pockets, which was made harder not just by his shaking arms but by the fact that Leather-Lady was touching him again. He made another mental note to turn that into a comic book, and tried desperately to ignore her forceful advances. Her fingers twisted his hair and a hand ran down his back. The rest of the battle seemed non-existent. It was as if they were in a totally different place.
Iron...Iron....Iron....Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.....just keep....Iron...Iron...Iron...Iron...
And just when he'd almost given way to the pressure, Arden found what he was looking for. A tiny. Iron. Frying pan. He pulled it out, and, in the name of a fanfic that he so much enjoyed, whacked her in the face with it. It wasn't a big frying pan, but it did leave a burn mark on her face. He smacked her a few more times before the shape-shifter within got agitated and turned back into the demon, who wasn't ready to be shanked by the frying pan. Nor was it ready for the knife that plunged into its back afterwards.
"And that is for not being a very good kisser! And that is for touching my hair! Do you know how hard I worked to get it pretty for the battle today, you bounder? And that is for...oh. Well. No need, you're dead." He crawled the last bit of distance to the edge of the trench, and stood up, ready to jump in and get help, both mentally and physically, when an imp with one foot soared towards him on a pole, knife in hand. Before he could say anything, it cut off his left arm and he was left with only the small amount of time to get "Bugger" in, before shock, pain, and gravity took over and he flumped into the trench, face first. Arden blacked out as soon as he hit the ground.