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Post by Nathalia on Nov 27, 2010 19:21:20 GMT -5
((The strange feeling in Apocalypse's chest will suddenly seem to rupture into a full-blown hatred. It would seem that the Card he defeated earlier has cast quite a curse on him!
He feels an incredible, painful rage toward anyone near him, regardless of relation and wishes them extreme harm...While he will not kill...he will be rather...rough.
Oddly, Helena will find herself feeling...strange. Bloated and odd, as though she's gained several pounds. What's going on here?))
~Nathalia
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Post by Bee on Nov 28, 2010 1:51:07 GMT -5
Getting moving suddenly seemed a good idea. Minutes ago she had little enough inclination to move from her comfortable rest, especially considering that they seemed in no danger of being intruded upon for once--she almost thought that, despite her vague desire to take the snuggling out of the streets, she might drift off a little, hold onto her moment a little bit longer. It had taken quite a lot of effort to get there, after all. But apparently Apocalypse wasn't the only person being strangely affected by the alcohol. Or what she was still telling herself was the alcohol.
Something was finally hitting her, at any rate. Tight and uncomfortable, like swelling. She felt heavy and fatigued in a way that had nothing to do with post-coital languidness. It seemed to exist in a nebulous place before actual pain, and it didn't feel like drunken sickness, either. It was bizarre, impossible to willfully ignore like she was doing to the feel of the night in general.
Her body didn't want to move but she forced herself to sit up a little bit, a thorny little cramp accompanying the motion.
"You're right on both counts, I think," she said. Odd night. Get out of the open. Her own apartment was sounding better than a borrowed room, however. She was also faintly worried about Simcha. And she was sure she had the supplies to finish tending to Apocalypse, too. A win-win, she decided. She might even have some of Mom's medicines around to take care of the strange bloating sensation. She managed something on the smile side of a grimace. "Walk me home?"
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 30, 2010 2:39:21 GMT -5
The King stopped moving. He stopped speaking. He paused exactly where he was, staring at the woman who was still reclining close to him. She was no longer using him as a pillow, but something about the way she was resting there... looking so calm, so placid, after everything he'd done for her... so presumptuous, he'd fucked her twice now, but still...
It made his blood boil. Without any other indications to what was going through his head, his pupils abruptly narrowed to razor-thin slits. He took in a deep breath.
It did no good. Stupid bitch.
"I think..." he said, softly. One hand reached towards her, and he touched her cheek. Then he brushed the Hair. Then he grabbed it, hard, yanked her towards him and bared his teeth in her face. "No. I'm not nearly finished with you." He pulled tighter, his other hand gripping her arm, his claws digging into her skin. Then, with a mighty heave, he threw her off of him and stood, regarding her cooly. There was nothing in his eyes except that primal rage, none of the playful familiarity of before.
Apocalypse aimed a kick at Helena, clearly intending to keep her on the ground. He would rough her up - then he would have her again, and leave her here. A perfect plan. It brought a smile to his lips.
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Post by Bee on Dec 1, 2010 2:20:48 GMT -5
For a moment everything felt fine, for a given definition of the term. Her body still felt strange, but she was about to go home, take her companion with her, and the anticipation of her own bed filled afforded her a sizable psychological comfort, a sense of ease. It was amplified by the soft caress on her face, her Hair--
Then spidery jolts of pain rushed across her head as she was suddenly jerked over, neck cracking unhappily, until she was face-to-face with dangerous-looking teeth and familiar eyes gone alien with rage. Her eyes widened in panic and confusion as her brain tried to race through a thousand reasons why this could possibly be happening but none of them made sense, and her heart raced with new adrenaline fuel. Her immediate reflex was to yank herself free but his grip was painfully tight, even with her hair clamping down on the fingers to try to pull them off, and his other hand was on her arm, claws poking sharply into her skin.
Finished, finished, finished. That could mean--
--so many things--
--but he had never seemed--
"Let go," she bit out--and he did, by hurling her abruptly off. She caught herself on her elbows, but barely had time to suck in a surprised breath before a hard kick caught her in the shoulder and sent her sprawling, and cobblestones were a damn unforgiving mistress. She groaned, and shot him a look of anger that was largely overshadowed with fear and pain, unconsciously trying to curl into a more defensive position. "What the hell's gotten in to you?"
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Dec 1, 2010 16:48:05 GMT -5
A tingle of cheerful satisfaction went up the man's spine when his foot connected squarely with its target, and he let out a quiet hiss. The rage was still there, but it had taken on a more natural form for the man - he channeled it into a more productive energy, seeking to make whatever had made him so angry suffer for it. So far, it was working wonders, and his lips curled into a positively evil smirk.
His fist clenched, relaxed, and clenched again. The claws were exposed, ready to inflict more damage. He shook his head, slowly. What had gotten into him? Why would she ask something so incredibly idiotic? "I was wrong," he said, not deigning to give her any additional information. A voice in the back of his mind, his Weapon, was screaming at him to stop. Words like curse, magic, spell. He ignored the voice, as much as he was capable. That was hard, when he could barely hear his own thoughts over the tremendous nose she was making.
He sneered down at the woman who had been his bed-partner for the night, eyes narrowing. He activated his pain ability. That would keep her down a little longer. While it worked on her, he would move in, grabbing her hair again and forcing her body close. His breath was hot on her ear again, but this time it carried no promise of pleasure.
~~~
Strong Magical Ability When activated, he can inflict mental pain on another card of any suit, once per day. The degree of pain is equivalent to that of a thin blade being pressed more and more closely to their throat until they can actually feel their jugulars being sliced into. This usually causes them to pause and cough horribly while they regain their breath. Once they cough, it stops his spell, but he can start it up again ten minutes later as many times as he would like. This ability only affects Cards ranked 10 and lower fully, it can be used on Jacks once a day, and doesn't affect Kings and Queens.
Pain Ability Boost His pain ability now affects all Cards except for Queens and Jokers. His pain ability now leaves a vivid, real scar on the recipients throat if the spell is not thrown in under ten seconds.
Pain Ability Boost 2 This Card is now able to cause an opponent, ranked jack or less, to have their throats, quite literally, explode outward with this spell. They will feel their flesh blow outward, along with a good amount of blood, and many will go into shock. After five seconds, the flesh will begin to knit itself back up, though his normal pain ability will continue until he drops it.
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Post by Bee on Dec 2, 2010 1:39:53 GMT -5
She had barely begun to push herself up--to run, probably, though she wasn't making any conscious decisions at that point--when the pain hit, first like a terrible pressure into her neck and then the slice, like a blade working its way in--and something must have gotten in, filled it with air, because suddenly it was pushing out, pushing her skin past the limit of its elasticity, unbelievably fast and harsh and piecing. It was agonizing. She had no point of reference for it, no physical pain beyond a particularly nasty hangover and no fear beyond being thrown into a river as a child.
She only faintly registered him grabbing her, of the rest of her body moving, and she was too stunned to even think of trying to thrash free. It must have all happened in seconds, too fast for even tears; but it felt like an eternity, everything around her going mute except for the searing pain in her neck, the horrible rip of flesh tearing and blood flowing. She burbled something that wasn't a word and probably wasn't even a sound, just something in her head that couldn't get out, some scream, some question.
The only evidence of the wound closing, as suddenly as it had appeared, was the slight stretch of her field of awareness, something past the intense and continuing misery in her throat--heat, someone's breath--his. She choked and sputtered, tried to croak out a plea, but it dissolved into a coughing fit. Her brain was a confused and dazed jumble, but some base survival instinct recognized the need to do something, and do it fast.
She mustered up whatever strength she could pull from her sluggish and shocked body and tried to jam her elbow into his gut, maybe something to buy her a second, a half a second, to--to do--anything.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Dec 8, 2010 1:09:47 GMT -5
The spray of gore - outward, catching him slightly in its delicious spray as he held onto her struggling body - was delightful, the patterns it made on his pale fur almost orgasmic. Apocalypse let himself go with the rage, letting it take his body as it so desired. Why should he fight it, when it felt so good, so right? The screaming to stop in his mind - he ignored it, pushed it aside, didn't care about it. Next to the desire to cause harm, its voice was barely a whisper.
His teeth closed around the soft flesh of an ear as an elbow rammed into the soft tissue of his torso, forcing his breath out in a second and pushing him back. Skin rent, and most of the ear came away with him.
But her second of freedom wouldn't last, couldn't last. The King regathered himself, regained his footing, and leapt for her, using all the fury and pain that filled his body as fuel for the movement. His feline form was swift in the worst of cases, and she would not escape. He wasn't done with her. He reached out with his claws as he flew towards her, clearly intending to knock her fully to the ground, to pin her body with his own. From there, he would see where instinct took him. He tasted her blood in his mouth.
It was a good taste.
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Post by Bee on Dec 8, 2010 21:31:00 GMT -5
She had been barely conscious of the fact that Apocalypse had bit into her ear until he fell back and she pitched forward in her desperate bid to flee, to run or maybe even launch herself into the air. The flesh ripped easily in his jaws, and she yelped in almost more surprise than pain, the small blood vessels bursting and oozing. None of that mattered, though, the ear was nothing if she could just get to her feet and--
No such luck, of course. Her weirdly swollen body was more unwieldy than usual, and the cat was fast, and she had barely enough pause for a spark of hope before it was crushed beneath his weight. Back where she started. Panic set in again, worse by degrees for every type of pain, for every dead-end thought of escape. She might not be able to get the jump on him again, he'd be expecting something, what the hell was she supposed to do now?
"Apocalypse," she panted out, because her list of options was exactly that short. She activated the most basic of abilities, the most pathetic thing she could possibly fall back on, and suddenly her voice became smooth and persuasive despite the near-useless state of fear her mind was in. "Apocalypse, please stop. Just tell me what's wrong, tell me what you want. Stop this."
Basic Magical Ability: She can act charismatic and persuasive at times, whether or not she actually has the natural charm and grace to pull it off.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Dec 16, 2010 2:43:11 GMT -5
A warm body beneath him, wriggling and squirming and gasping. It was a nice feeling, especially when he wanted to inflict such pain on the body. He wasn't nearly done, wouldn't be done until she was as limp and formless as the King from earlier should have been. That thought made the voice in his mind go quiet, and he felt justified in his actions. It had wanted him to stop. Why should he? This was what she deserved, wasn't it? Even though the man had no idea why she was making him so angry, he wasn't willing to sit down for a moment and actually consider it. Even when she spoke to him in a voice that was buttery-smooth and oddly persuasive, he replied with a toothy smile and an angry hiss, his hand balling more tightly into her hair as his other hand moved across his own chest. " I want to hurt you, don't you understand?" He laughed then, a cruel, angry noise. " If I stop, you can't give me what I want. You're a stupid little thing, aren't you?" His fingers brushed across the Suit marking on his chest, and for a moment, there was a flash of metal. But a moment later, that metal was replaced by brown fur spotted and streaked with the purple-and-yellow unique to the Bog. The body forced itself between them, spreading wide, yellow-membraned wings, knocking Apocalypse from his intended target. All the man could do was let out a furious and wordless scream, and Rhiannon quickly wrapped her arms around Helena, pulling her to her feet. " Run. You need to get out of here. Go now. Something -- something is wrong, I think someone cast a spell on him, he isn't --[/b]" No time to explain. The Weapon whirled, spreading her wings to block the King's view of the Canine. She'd been a Diamond, right? High ranked? " FLY![/b]" Now it was time to try and distract her master.
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Post by Nathalia on Dec 17, 2010 20:07:12 GMT -5
(( But Helena cannot fly. Whatever Apocalypse has done seems to have affected her horribly. Choking and gasping, her stomach begins to heave rebelliously and she doubles over in pain and nausea.
Something huge seems to be working its way up her throat, cracking her jaw and ripping one side of her mouth open as it flops wetly onto the pavement. The little bundle of fur around her neck known as Simcha suddenly goes not only limp; but empty and silent...eerily dead for anyone who knows what it is.
The wet bundle on the street jerks an twitches violently, writhing and tearing at the mass of plasticine flesh surrounding it that Helena just coughed up. Claws puncture it and a child, roughly about 7 or 8 looking, drags itself out and looks blearily around. There is no mistaking what it is... Not with those markings... And not with that ear. Simcha?))ID: SD 464 Name: ---- Suit: Diamonds Rank: Six Gender: Female Animal: Feline (Caracal)/Canine Region: Josiggy/Raemblen Bog Dealer: Bee Parents: Helena x Apocalypse Notes: There is no question, though now young in body, the creature inhabiting this form is indeed Simcha, restored to life once more. Her one Rabbit ear is more testament to that than anything else. She is perfectly aware of what just happened, who her "parents" are, and has been in existence for a very long time. Her mask is organic and attached to her nose, and her hair is moderately mobile like her mother. A tiny bone fork was born with her and it causes a feeling of numbness when stabbed into the flesh of Spades, though it can be easily overcome in 10 seconds, however awkward it may be. The Rabbit ear mutation is very rare and must be rolled, not commissioned or garnered with favors. The Simcha skin still has all of the properties it once had and can now be controlled by either Helena or Simcha herself. Basic Magical Ability: She can act charismatic and persuasive at times, whether or not she actually has the natural charm and grace to pull it off. Moderate Magical Ability: When activated, she can decipher up to two languages of the player's choosing. These languages are in addition to the common tongue and the Diamond house language.
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