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 Don't be Sorry. Be Better.

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Siegharty
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Subject Post 11PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptyFri Jul 05, 2019 10:04 pm


THE YOUNG BEAR




ELYSS KISHIMOTO

Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 6EdIfMt


It’s a boomerang axe. What an interesting ability for such a large weapon. She’d hate to get in between it and its owner. That’ll make things fun. Of course she endured that onslaught. It was nothing. She’s grown too strong to fall to anything that basic. He’s going to have to try a bit harder to do any serious damage to keep her down. Oh, how exciting this already is. Elyss can feel her heart beating in her chest; feel adrenaline pumping in her veins, though, it felt strange. Adrenaline usually feels a person with energy for certain situations that either required them to flee or fight. Elyss has definitely chosen to fight, and she knows her mind is ready for a brawl, but her body… It felt lighter than it should; more heavier than normal, yet, she could move much more freely and unrestrained. She felt ready.

Her eyes twitch as Arkin charges forth, his speed remarkable for his size; the amount of time it took him to reach her impressively short before she feels that she must move to counter. Dodging is an option, but she’s never one to shy away from a head on collision if she felt she could win, and right now, she feels way too confident in her abilities. Her left foot slams into the ground as her leg goes roes rigid bending like a spring. That axe comes for her shoulder, but she is quick to slide to the left on her foot. She could feel it though; the icy aura of the axe as it barely missed her side.

Though, her attention was too much on that axe when she feels the presence of something large moving towards her face; the shadow of his large hand alarming her to its approach. She is quick as her slide halts raising her left arm between that hand and her face feeling it close around her wrist and forearm strongly. Her teeth grit, but she isn’t going to let herself be captured so easily as before.

Her eyes turn stony like obsidian; her expression changing to one of displeasures as her sword is suddenly flying upward. Her right arm moves in an uppercutting motion, but with the blade in her grip; the tip rising with her swing, Arkin would find steel digging into his forearm, and possibly straight through exiting through the other side of his arm cutting through muscle like tissue paper unless he had some resistance such things.

That is all she is able to do in this moment anyhow. Kicking didn’t seem effective unless she launched her blows in specified areas. What else was there besides launching her sword through him hoping to cause enough pain to free her own arm. At least she saved her face from harm. Imagine such a big hand grabbing around your throat tightly. Only a masochist who wished to be choked by such strong paws would ever wish a fate.

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s
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Subject Post 12PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 2:41 am


ARKIN | THE ODINSON

Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 6EdIfMt
This was what it felt like to be in battle once more, to feel the thrill of rage beginning to tickle at his spine was what made him feel alive. The slow rise of his chilling anger was something of legend, how the peaceful giant could go into a mindless berserker rage if he wasn't careful. That the mere thought of someone assaulting his person could cause hundred of years of rage filled memories to begin to surface. Such was the price of being the immortal. But in this moment, as his vice grip locked on her forearm he could only grin with glee as the steel made contact with his skin.

To his credit she would find the pale ghost skin hard to penetrate, but not impossible. Spurred on by him pressing forward the blade would push upwards sticking out his forearm. However the crimson blood of which should be expected did not leak out, instead a brilliant golden ichor seemed to slide down her blade. It was thick and viscous, nothing at all like the normal runny blood one should expect. It even felt like as she stabbed into him moving through sludge. But if she thought this would make him let go she was wrong. Instead, it only felt like his grip tightened at the injury.

His onslaught did not stop, instead he would lift the weighted axe once more unto the air before slamming it down upon her blade with tremedious force. The first strike enough to send shock waves vibrating through their arm if they attempted to block, potentially numbing it. But a second strike would follow immediately as his body shoved forward seeking to jerk her arm to the slide, his forehead coming forward with utter reckless violence. He sought to drive his forehead into her nose, to break the dainty thing and crash their bodies upon one another.

But despite seeking to throw his weight and force her to the ground he'd release her forearm finally, his hand closing into a fist as he began to jerk his arm back. This was so he could tear free his arm from the blade, and if he was able to do so she would see through the hole in his arm that he did not bleed. Instead there was a shining golden ichor which seemed to run through his veins, as if his insides where a mixture of flesh and gold.

At this point the pain he had inflicted upon him began to augment his abilities, his breath becomming ragged as his innate powers began to flow. His muscles flexing as he let out a grunt of fustration, pulling taut against flesh as veins seemed to protrude slightly. It appeared, as this fight progressed he was getting stronger.

As if to drive the point home, he would place both hands on his Ax seeking to raise it over his head before driving the weapon downward. The strength of him swinging with both hands was enough to be a danger in it's own right, as the if this was blocked there would no doubt before a force capable of cracking the earth beneath her. This wild relentless assault refused to stop, with little time to breathe imbetween each sequence of his actions.

He was truly a beast.

THE IMMORTAL | END POST




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Subject Post 13PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 3:51 pm

















ポ ス ト を 開 始



How interesting… She found her blade slide into his arm, but there was a resistance there. Not only was his skin hard to penetrate like trying to stick her blade through a plank of wood, but, once inside, it felt as if his very muscles and blood denied her blade permission to simply slice right through. If her arm was heavy and trying to slice her blade through mud… That is what this would probably equate to, but due to his momentum against hers, her blade still slid through appearing out the other side of his arm. The strangest part of this interaction, however, is the fact that what bled from his wound was not blood. No. She looks at her blade as literal gold decorated the steel; it resembled honey to her, but it is most likely something more. It did not leak from his wound as the normal consequences of being pierced were as well. Yet, it mattered little in all honesty. She could injure him, and that is what is important. Yet, her counterattack seemed to barely cause the giant before her to flinch. That is to be expected somewhat. His grip tightening around her wrist causing her pain is to be expected too. He will not be an easy opponent to overcome. How exciting?!

Her eyes catch the glimpse from his rising weapon as her wrist struggled in his grasp. She can feel his intent in raising his mighty weapon; see his arm’s muscles tighten and coil with power. She has to act now. Without a moment's hesitation at seeing him prepare for an attack, she pulls her arm back sliding her blade from him with an audible slick; her sword flicking his golden ichor from his body to the ground as she outstretches her body fully; her feet pressing down into the ground enforcing her stance. She can see where he aims, and she knows she only has one chance to defend herself, and so, she brings her arm up with as much force as possible from her position causing their blades to clash; golden ichor splashing from her sword onto both their person, but most importantly, onto her face. Her arm immediately goes numb from the interaction; the very clash of metal against metal clanking loudly in the empty forest. Though, she was able to stop that aex from meeting flesh if only barely as she feels her whole person shake and dig into the ground forcing her sword arm to fall backwards as if dead leaving her open for another attack.

And, another attack does come. Her eyes go wide as he brings his arm back, not to try his axe on her again, but to bring himself forward jerking her held arm to the side leaving her completely defenseless to his next move which was to slam his forward down hard onto her face. She hears the crunch knowing it audible for Arkin’s ears to catch as well as blood flows outward from the interaction into the skies onto Arkin’s forehead and all over her face much like someone stepping on a tomato. That was what her face was to his head; a tomato. Immense pain scorches her face as she yelled out forcing her teary eyes close, and she takes wobbly steps backwards; her sense of smell gone and her nose brutalized looking more flimsy than it should.

It did not matter if he wretched his arm from her blade, for it had already been removed prior to her next action. She could sense his bloodlust; feel his anger and power increasing right before her even with her eyes closed. There’s no way she could defend herself from his next attack. Her mind is too focused on the pain, and her arm feels too heavy to move her sword to defend herself. Yet, she felt… euphoric. Is this insanity? No. It is what has ailed her her whole life; a lust for battle so immense that it literally crashed around her like a raging sea till nothing made sense but the chaos that war brought. She can hear that single voice through her pain.

“Lift me and fight!”

Her eyes fly wide; opened by the will to win; to take her place above this giant of a man. Even if she must force him to his knees and stand on his shoulders, she will come out on top. Adrenaline pumps through her veins fueling her with power she did not know she had before as her arm flung moves to the handle of her Zanpaukuto gripping it hard along with her numb hand which no longer felt as numb as before. With a gargled scream, she brings her arms upwards ignoring her pain planting her feet firmly once more as her body moves with newfound strength.

They collide once more; her Zanpakuto and his battle once again in favored contest. He is stronger. That is a fact, but she did not swing to directly stop his assault. As their weapons connect, her sword tilts upwards in her frip; the honed edge scraping against Arkin’s axe upwards forcing her body backwards with upward momentum and allow his axe to fully swing down into the ground missing her completely breaking through the Earth. Undoubtedly, her speed had somehow increased despite her unbalancedness a few seconds earlier. This is where she counters.

Without much hesitation; Arkin had put his all into that swing, but doing such had left himself wide open as he missed. Elyss would not miss the opportunity; her body already primed as the sun reflects on her raised blade, and as her feet settle onto the ground once more, she swings downward with full force aiming for his right shoulder to inlodge her sword into him; to tear through skin and muscle to wound the giant that she now stood over once more.



エンドポスト

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Subject Post 14PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 4:57 pm


ARKIN | THE ODINSON

Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 6EdIfMt


There was a storm gathering inside of Arkin, a fury which was beginning to surface with every strike these two threw at one another. The hole which now resided in his forearm only barely weakening his grip, but that was soon mitigated by the raw fury he was feeling. The feeling of his axe striking against her blade, the rush which came with battling a worthy opponent was a rush he hadn't felt in some time. But as the golden ichor leaked onto the ground beneath them, he show'd no signs in relenting.

However at least something good came of this assault, as he felt her nose be reduced to a broken mess via his hard forehead. The spray of crimson which seemed to emit from such a violent action only stoked the flames which was building in his gut. A giddiness which sought the only release he knew how, through raw aggression and brutality. This woman, was someone he could do this with for a while and he hoped she would not crack so easily.

Yet, in his bloodlust he felt his wild ax throws be blocked no doubt having some effect on her. But to his pleasant surprise she seemed to pick up blocking wasn't the ideal solution. Instead she performed some parry, causing his ax to slam into the earth cracking such ground with ease. A toothy grin could not hide it's self as pale eyes saw her performing her counter attack, there would be no time to defend against it. Only that he did what he does best.

So she would find the blade would strike home, a gruesome sound of the blade pressing into pale stone like flesh. Such was his body that she would not be able to drag it through cleanly as it felt like his mere internal muscles resisted against her, indicating both his durable nature and ichor. His right shoulder split in a diagonal strike, cutting slightly into it slightly before it would be forced to stop and she would need to press more strength to open the wound. Her blade becoming counted across some of the sharp side as Ichor stuck to it like honey.

It was time that he acted.

At this point she had inflicted enough damage on him, and combined with his own rising fury that his strikes would be extremely enhanced. Pale eyes seemingly conveying such anger that Arkin was barely containing his excitement, as his hands released the Ax handle allowing it to be buried in the ground. Instead she would find his left hand coming up in a violent upper cut to her exposed chin. Due to her blade being stuck in his arm slightly, this would leave her open to his assault.

She would find his muscles flexing as he seemed to step closer to her, while throwing another hook with his left hand. His right arm flexing with enough violence to begin to push the blade out, bringing it up as he launched into an offensive barrage of punches likely unexpected in that moment. His goal was to crack his knuckles against her face, chin, or any exposed parts of her upper body- each strike slamming into her with rage which enhanced their potency and impact. A very real possibility once he threw the last one to send her flying away one more!

Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 VloBWM

THE IMMORTAL | END POST





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Subject Post 15PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 6:33 pm
















ポ ス ト を 開 始


Her blade digs into his shoulder; a successful attack, but much like when she stabbed his forearm, she feels the resistance of his muscles pushing against her downward swing. Not just that though. That damn golden blood from earlier also assists in softening the impact of her strike. Though, the damage is done. Her blade rests within his body even if by only a little. She landed a clean blow against her assaulter. That means something, right? Still, her eyes trained on where her sword is staring at the gold blood adorning its edge.

Suddenly, she flinches hard feeling her body wobble; her left wrist shaking from the mistreatment of Arkin’s grasp, her face exploding in pain, and a sudden sizzling on her cheek. That’s when she sees her blade steaming; the golden blood on it sizzling against her steel. That’s how she knows the burning pain slightly different from the pain coming from her demolished nose if from his blood. Yet, that is the least of her worries as the countless impacts upon her form, whether clean or not, has done their job shaking her frame. This is always the problem with fighting beings bigger than oneself with more impact to their blows. After a while of blocking, the defendant finds themselves tired out and battered unable to keep up the fight. That is why dodging is the preferred method.

However, as she wobbles she feels a sudden elevation; a spring in her step. Something within her flipped on a switch filling her with unexplainable energy. Her eyes moved down to his form, and she feels her very core shake with fear, or is that actually anticipation. He’s angry. She can see it in his eyes, and though she does not return such an intense gaze or reveal her lunacy with a smile, she feels Arkin could feel her thirst for brutalization. She’s fighting a monster, and she’s accepting the challenge head on.

It is sudden, but she can see it if barely; her bloodsoaked face ignorant of its own inability to act. Her head tilts to the side narrowly avoiding the sudden fist rising to her face; the pale man’s attack grazing her ear causing her to hiss in frustration and pain. That is when she feels her sword resisting to be pulled as she tried stepping away, but then, immediately, she feels it come out far too easily assisted by Arkin’s muscles pushing it out. This causes her steps backwards to become uneven, and in that short amount of time, she sees his left fist come for her once more. There is no dodging.

“Crack!”

It is audible, it is loud, it is as mighty as lightning striking itself but with the sound of thunder. Yet, she cannot hear her own face break. Her right ear rings as her brain’s nerves go haywire with the painful signals being sent into her mind. Is her chin broken? No, but the pain is immense causing her to cry out as blood splatters onto the ground and onto his fist; her lips busted wide. She’s unsure of her environment as everything begins to spin circles over and over and over; though, the world is suddenly cut in half as her right eye flinches in pain finding itself hard to keep open. She couldn’t hear her blade fall to the ground. She is defenseless.

It doesn’t end there. From her left eye, her blurred vision makes out his frame moving even more telling her distraught mind that more it to come, and in a feeble attempt to preserve herself, her arms fly up providing a weak guard to the onslaught. Pain. Pain is all that is registrable as her person is assaulted. Her arms stay up defiantly, but they soon become like clay and near impossible to hold up as she feels her left forearm break from one of his punches; the bruising from earlier making it too weak to hold. Then, his fist connects into her right side bruising her chest and ribs causing her to gasp. And, finally, there is one last punch that connects fully right into her guard which has her feet lifting off the ground; her body soaring backwards into a tree with a hard grunt.

There, her form starts to sink to the ground, but then, her feet plant themselves keeping her straight up, yet, her whole frame is against the tree behind her. Her breaths are ragged and uneven; breathing feeling too much a chore for her to keep up. Her left arm lies limply beside her, the pain of her forearm being broken and bruised making it difficult to hold up. Her legs shake with the exertion of holding herself up. Though, her face is the worse. There is purple bruising all over; her right eye barely open. She wears a bloody ruined visage, the beautiful woman from before barely recognizable from swelling injuries and a disfigured nose. Yet, she doesn’t fall. Not yet. She has a bit more in her tank. She can feel her adrenaline pushing her more; energy flowing through her body despite her inability to make use of it.

Moving her mouth hurts, so she doesn’t even bother. She moves her one good vacant eye to the berserking giant. What will be his next move? No matter what. She will just make that move first. Her right foot shoots forward; her attack planned in her mind. Her left foot rises. It never reaches the ground. Instead, her body goes down forward to the ground shaking uncontrollably in pain; consciousness barely holding on.

‘Damn… n-not like this… It was just… getting…’

She lays there unable to move herself letting the pain numb her.



エンドポスト

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Subject Post 16PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 7:52 pm


ARKIN | THE ODINSON

Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 6EdIfMt


This wasn't a battle towards the end of it, it was a brutalization.

Each strike was thrown with enough power to make sure that she felt it, his strength nearly unrestrained. The crack of bone hitting upon both, the bruising of his knuckles with each wild punch was enough to satisify his blood thirst. At some point he didn't notice the blood which shot off her face was also mixed with his golden ichor, no doubt from his torn knuckles which where beginning to break from the power. But as the final hit was thrown casing her away he'd begin to huff, his entire form shaking with each breath.

A callous hand was thrown to the side, the familar tug of energy causing his Leviathan to fly towards his hand. The sizzling sound which was heard on the cracked earth indicating his blood had already began to burn away, such was proof of his divinity. At least within his own eyes. But to Elyss eternal credit she managed to stand after that assault, something which he was sure she would not. Watching her begin to take a few steps before collapsing he'd let out a rumble from his throat, a mixture of approving and disappointment.

He was happy to see she had some fight within her, but saddened that it appeared their duel was cut short by his brutality. However, upon attempting to place his axe back within it's hook he noticed his right arm would not fully move in that direct. The torn muscles of which she had severed had severly limited his shoulder mobility to the point he needed to switch arms. That was impressive, but something which could prove a problem if left exposed. It appeared, she had some level of tactical knowledge- disabling your enemy.

But he would walk over to them, his head cocking to the side as he gazed upon her features. The dainty and feminine features replaced with something akin to a lumpy muffin. The swollen features from cracked bone and bruises muscle caused a small grin as he knelt next to them, his own left arm resting on his knee.

"Do you yield?"
The duel was not over till she admitted defeat, and such was the warrior way. He knew she could hear him, as she knew her form was broken and battered but still alive. If she admitted defeat he could take her some place to rest, most likely to the division. But if she didn't admit defeat..

The the fight was still on.

THE IMMORTAL | END POST






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Subject Post 17PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySat Jul 06, 2019 11:06 pm
















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Yield? Yield?! This oaf dares suggest such?! He dares come near her after abusing her body to such a degree. Her body has been beaten, battered, assaulted, utterly and entirely destroyed by their conflict, and yet, he humros such an idea as yielding? Hell no, she does not yield. As if she would admit defeat this easily. There’s still fight in her. Through all the pain and misery she is forcing herself to endure, there is still something deep within her that didn’t want it to end this way. She can still feel power pumping through her veins; her adrenaline commanding she pushes herself further. Yet, her body refused to allow it. Why? Why won’t her legs move? Why won’t her arms shift? Why does her head lay dormant?

What’s wrong with her? Attempting to continue would only further injure herself beyond this. Her blood stains the ground under her, and it continues to flow freely, and yet, she wished to bleed more. It’s not enough. Her body should be able to take more than this. Why are there so many ahead of her like this? It’s frustrating. Ulv, Henrex, Arianda, Calypso, and Claire. She desires to help people, but she can’t even help herself. There’s no control here. All she’s doing is throwing herself into a brick wall and enjoying it. What was the point of this fight? What was the point running off with Ulv; agreeing to become better. All she feels like she’s doing is steadily walking backwards. She’s not getting lost… She hasn’t even begun walking yet. The conversation she had with Ulv begins to play through her mind as the pain subsides from her thoughts. She disobeyed the wishes of the one who wished the most for her. She’s the absolute worst. She knew she wasn’t going to win this, and yet, she somehow deluded herself into thinking it would be a fair fight. She allowed that other being to convince her that she is going forward correctly; that she’s strong, but that’s not true.

She’s scared. She’s scared of what she’s becoming; what she’s always been. Arkin, he reminded her of herself. His anger and fighting spirit. It felt so similar, yet, she sees what he has that she does not. In fact, she knew before the fight had begun.

Her jaw twitched, but that caused her to groan painfully closing her eyes and stay still. She… does not want to fight anymore. And, yet, she can’t stop feeling energetic. Oh, what a mess she is.



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MorpheusDavol
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Subject Post 18PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySun Jul 07, 2019 2:09 am


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She was quite the fighter, in both spirit and body. Even now as she laid in this sorry state he could feel it within her, a spark of resistance which sought to rage against the dying of the light. But she had become faced with something many warriors would come to find in life, their own mortality. It was almost odd to see shinigami faced with such things, considering their near immortality. Yet, it became all to real for the woman and Arkin could see one thing clearly: She had lost.

He would come onto his knees next to her, around where her head laid. Those pale icy eyes slowly beginning to lose the rage which fuelled them, instead replaced by something else. It was soft, like staring into snow which had not yet been disturbed by heavy feet. A callous hand would come up resting against her forehead, his skin cold to the touch. It would be a sharp contrast to the heat which most likely was on her face from the bruising and swelling. But the touch conveyed a simple understand, that she had earned his praise as a warrior for now. That all was ok.

"You are strong, warrior. Much to learn, and much to grow. Do not lose that fire. Time to rest, and heal."

His voice felt like someone pounding a drum, powerful and echoing despite the smooth beat to it. There was no malice in his words as he found something of an affection for the woman, perhaps some type of friendship. A kinship which only those like them knew, those berserkers who seemed far too unconcerned with their lives. But at this moment he would seek to scoop her broken form up in his arms getting to his feet.

"I shall take you to be cared for. Then we shall eat, and drink. Rest, for now."

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Subject Post 19PostSubject: Re: Don't be Sorry. Be Better.    Don't be Sorry. Be Better.  - Page 2 EmptySun Jul 07, 2019 4:15 pm
















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Strong and stupid. That’s what she is. More stupid than strong obviously. She has much to learn about the world around her and about herself. Don’t lose that fire? Well, that’s impossible as of now. For some reason, that energy she felt within her is suddenly fading. She can now truly feel how wretched her body feels, and it is that sudden feeling of her injuries that causes her eyes to go vacant right before she is lifted; her mind finally shutting down her consciousness allowing her the rest she needs. Though, the injuries are there, and it will make her sleep troubled with painful dreams and nightmares.

She knows not where Arkin will take her. She doesn’t know who’ll be around when she awakens. That is a scary thought; to have no one around that cares whether you are okay or not. What can she expect though? No one of importance knows of what just occurred here, so expecting someone to come and see her worn out person is dumb. Still, right before the lights go out, she thinks of Ulv. What would she think of Elyss seeing her in such a state? Elyss isn’t sure if she could handle Ulv looking at her once more in such a disappointing manner, but this redhead just cannot keep herself out of trouble. That is her fatal flaw.

Those thoughts are quick to vanish, but they weigh on her subconscious. Yes. Her time of remediation is going to be a troubling one. And, so. She is taken away to wherever Arkin decides is best for her to rest. She is the loser. She has no say in her own fate.

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