Creative Discussions > Other Roleplay
[Closed] Galactic Tournament| Time: Afternoon| Weather: Raining
Mr. Fox:
Krapfen:
The barrier cracked under the pressure, but held. The force from the impact threw off his calculations causing his attack to miss it's mark by a few inches. He quickly backed off from a heavy barrage of attacks as the cow spun around with it's totem. Again he froze the air in the battle field and used the time to begin charging his power attack, when the time was right he'd shoot the cow in the face with it.
Faking a second attack he flew straight into the air firing bolts of lighting ether at the cow as he gained altitude. As he reached the peak of his climb he put himself into a nose dive and sped toward the target as break neck speeds, all the while he could feel the ether building up inside of him...
The-Blades-slave:
Garlock
Bellowing in pain as the lightning bolts hit him, searing his fur and skin. He danced angrily, before bellowing.
Puny bird!
He drew the totem back behind his head, aiming carefully, before sending it hurtling straight towards the diving astral!
Mr. Fox:
Krapfen:
He dove straight towards the totem, his calculations telling him to hit it straight on, if he moves even a little he'd miss with his Power Attack. He slammed into the totem, and nearly desynced from the impact alone, one way or another his was the end of this match. Getting closer to this target he could feel the Ether seeping out of every orifice of his body, just ready to explode...
And explode it did. the second he was in range he let it all go all at once. The powerful shock-wave tore through everything in it's path. Trees were torn from the ground, they took their roots with them as they were torn away. As the smoke cleared he felt sluggish, very sluggish; and the presence of ether couldn't be felt anymore, this was now a close combat fight...
The-Blades-slave:
Garlock
Garlock braced himself, drawing his ax defensively in front of him. As the explosion went off, he was thrown back, and severely injured, but still standing. He panted, falling to one knee for a moment. Garlock stood back, he had to finish it.
GROUND RIPPER!
The ground split apart at the seams, sending junks of rock everywhere, it was all or nothing. Garlock hoped, as his ax dissolved......
Tickles:
Hello, room service?...Yes I would like to place an order. Do you guys make sandwiches?....Ham and cheese, with water to drink....send it to room 512. Thank you.
Stan was relaxing in his room, happy to have slipped away from the media and other fighters. It was as though everyone wanted a piece of him, and he was glad to have this break from all the commotion.
Just once I would like someone to treat me like a person and not a celebrity.
The phone rang. Stan picked it up.
Mr. Masters, the chief of police is here. He has requested to see you.
Send him up. Just don't say my room number out loud.
As you wish.
He hung up the phone and took a seat by the window. What would his father want to talk about this time?
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