“Hello, my name is….” – GS.

 

Scene setting – Jax’s Coffee House.

co-written with VunG & Moo.

 

VunG:  Elissa continued to rub her temples as she noticed Tommy’s attention to her, but really didn’t care enough to change her mode of behavior at this point. She winced a bit at his reference to a therapist, and internally admitted that she wasn’t feeling all that secure in her own stability, though not to the same extent. Looking at him with a tired expression, she signed, ~Does she speak sign language?~ She was going to need therapy after this… maybe even enough to make her get over her distrust of the entire profession. Still, Frank’s comment got an amused scoff out of her, shaking her head and signing out, ~Sanity is a myth, I think.~ Once the coffee got on its way, she’d sit up straight, a brief time period where her scarf was knocked out of position from her face-desk/table and her scar was visible. Still, as the girl handed over the coffee, she’d gladly taking hers as and taking a deep breath of the stuff, grabbing the cinnamon to add. As she did so, she too noticed Frank’s antics, but just rolled her eyes and straightened her own scarf before signing to Tom, ~He’s not that old. Heck, my folks had nine years between them.~ Though, besides that she wouldn’t encourage or discourage the detective, giving the girl a nod of thanks for the drink, mixing in the stuff before finally taking a big gulp of it. The moment she swallowed that big swig, she let out a shuddering, pleasured sigh, closing her eyes at the feeling. Oh yeah, that was the good stuff. She was completely oblivious to the photo situation at the moment.

 

Moo:  While it was intended for Sophia to return to her area behind the counter, she was stopped by the rather pleasantries of these particular guests. She turned with her smile still well plastered over her face. Actually genuine, as she enjoyed contact with other people. In the man’s apparent attempt to look sharp, Sophia couldn’t help but lift her hand over her lips, holding in a small and rather girlish chuckle. It didn’t take much to cause the girl to blush, given her situation. But she would not delve deeper into it than that, as she wasn’t the type to openly flirt, and with strangers nonetheless. “It’s a compliment, really,” she added as the other male teased the first. “But you’re very welcome…all of you.”

Sophia’s gaze wandered around the three, and while she didn’t want to seem the nosy type, she was definitely interested in getting to know Candice’s favorite regulars. “May I ask your names..?” She gave a tilt of her head while she held onto the circular tray, holding it flat against her stomach and pelvis. “I know I recognize you two.” The girl grinned while her finger pointed from Tommy to Elissa. “But you seem new.” Her brows furrowed in the slightest while she looked at the third guest. Something sly could be seen in her expression, as though she should have been concerned he hadn’t been here to taste the coffee sooner. “I’d better start seeing you around more often.” A light chuckle before her eyes wandered down to watch the mute woman pour cinnamon into her drink. By chance, a photo happened to catch her eye, which had been moved well out of the way moments earlier. Blinking, she swore she saw…well, that was just it. She couldn’t tell what she was looking at. But it looked grotesque and reminded her of the mission she’d carried out the night before. Sophia swallowed, managing to avert her eyes quickly and normalize her expression, which hopefully hadn’t completely fallen from her face. Luckily, at this point the woman seemed to be enjoying her drink, so she would give a small laugh…which hopefully didn’t sound as forced as it really was. “I’m glad to see you enjoying the coffee.” Would it be a smooth enough recovery?

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank couldn’t hide his pleasure at hearing the waitress giggle and try to hide her smile behind her hand. It left him with a crooked smile. He didn’t socialize much these days and it was a refreshing change to get any sort of reaction from a member of the opposite sex. Frank sat a little straighter and gave a small salute to the young girl who had asked for their names. Tommy, who took his cup from Sophia and sat it down, went first.

“Name’s Tommy. Tommy Xo. I work up at the road at the New York Times. And this lovely lady beside me is Elissa.” He didn’t know her last name, but knew it would be polite to say her name verbally, since Elissa would either sign or write it. “And that guy there…” He pointed to Frank, with a smirk. “Is…Detective Frank Malone.” At this, Frank extended his hand towards Sophia, to be a touch more formal. “You can just call me Frank.” The detective offered, hoping she might shake his hand in reply. “Tommy here loves to do the talking. Comes from being on the job 24/7.”What Frank meant by this was that Tommy was always working a case or investigation trying to make the front page, if he could get past his editor. Frank took a sip of his coffee and made a satisfied smile, before answering Sophia. “If the service is always this good, I’ll be around a heck of a lot more.” This had Tommy laugh. “Woah, trading coffee for beer? Amazing what change can be brought about by a beautiful girl, Frank.” Again Frank blushed, and shook his head, embarrassed that Tommy spoke so broadly.

Tommy was quick to notice Sophia blink, then he glanced down at the table and noticed one of the pictures was out of the envelope and could be seen. The reporter glanced back up at Sophia, and he did notice that she had shifted her eyes quickly. It was strange how the girl regained her composure so quickly, and then went on to speak to Elissa. Would Elissa pick up on it? Tommy…went for broke.

“So…Sophia. Ever watched the X files?…..Or….seen a ten tonne slug?”

Frank spat his coffee right as Tommy asked this.

 

~RB~

 

 

 

Betrayal at the battlements – SS

Scene setting – Wrath Castle.

This story is co-written with five other writers – Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.

 

Temp:  

Astaroth moved alongside Mammon, charging straight into battle. There was clearly something different about Mammon, though there was no real way of knowing what that something was. Whatever it was likely didn’t matter, if anything it was a good thing, seeing Greed so bold and bloodthirsty. The battlefield was of course quite a mess, filled with soldiers and beasts clashing and spilling each others blood. Normally Astaroth wouldn’t be this involved with the combat, as he preferred watching his troops do as he commanded. This situation was a bit different though, and he had decided to make a personal appearance. His army was ready and prepared to march to this Kingdom, but he felt they wouldn’t get here in time to make a significant difference. Since he was able to teleport, he decided to do so and act as a one man army. The tole he would suffer after going back to his normal form would be large, but hopefully it would be worth it.

As he watched Mammon choose a solitary target, who looked rather different in comparison with the Wrath army, he decided to focus his attention on the foot soldiers. Astaroth barreled through the soldiers of Wrath, crushing them as he ran through their ranks. Although he was simply smashing things in his path, he was still very much aware of the battle going on around him. His head was moving in different directions to analyze the angles that a surprise might come from, and he had to keep some of his attention on the sky above in case of projectiles. Such things would hardly leave a scratch on him, but there was no sense in ignoring things being hurled through the sky. As he continued to pounce forward he looked up and took note of a flying object, which he kept his attention on. He wasn’t sure who or what the being was, but it was clearly not your average soldier. As it began to descend towards him he snarled and slammed his limbs into the ground below him, though at an angle. Using this angle and the sudden momentum he shot himself forward and to the side in a large burst of speed, moving away from the falling objects path. Right now he wasn’t trying to fight solo enemies, but rather weaken the Kingdoms defenses and foot soldiers. So for now, he was doing everything he could to avoid these solo fighters. Now that he was away from the falling object, he continued to run forward at full speed, clearly heading for the wall.

Eventually he would make his way up onto the walls of the Kingdom, easily ripping through the forcefield that was created. He jumped up onto the highest point he could find, which enabled him to look down at the battlefield. Using his new found position he opened his mouth and let out a loud and crippling roar all around him. His mouth remained open, and from within magma began to drip out and fall down below him. After a moment of watching the fight, he began to move his hands to his mouth, which he would use to hold onto the magma. As he did so it would become black and distorted, forming into a large blurry black fireball. He began to hurl these down at the soldiers, as well as the Kingdom around him. After exploding and sending chunks of dead soldiers and beasts hurling through the air, the Magma would form into disgusting creatures. They would begin to wail and crawl towards those loyal to Wrath, due to Astaroth controlling them and commanding them to do so. As they found organic life they would explode once again, sending more corpses flying. Astaroth let out another roar as well as a long and satisfied laugh at the carnage, clearly finding the battle amusing so far.Fu:  
https://i1.wp.com/i58.tinypic.com/ftzc6a.gif

– The Veiled Man had stood there silently as the man clad in dark armor had came at him with high speeds and attempted to swing his powerful blade at him in the pursuit of cutting him down but the man retaliated by turning his body in the opposite direction and swing his blade just as fast at the blade that had came at his left hip . A large shockwave would be released around them as a result of their blades clashing , the blades had shook violently against one another as the Veiled Man’s appearance was partially seen through the dark veil which had cloaked him in its entirety. His light purple-blue skin was seen , and his spiky white hair but only for a second as his blade Eclipse released a loud noise and vibration , the sensation and nostalgia would echo off in the form of the Leviathan Queen of 2 generations previous , Demonic Aura and presence is well known for being different for each person and moreso recognizable easily if they are royalty or were in their day, this blade had held her might . –

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain”

– The Veiled Man would push his blade forward upwards to cause her to stagger as he had leaped backwards, his darkened figure would begin growing hazy as he had jumped. If he had leaped at him at this time he would have entered a portal in the form of his hazy body and be transported to the closer region of the castle , there he would find the two princes that he was looking for . If he hadn’t , he would have done more flips backwards until he had returned to his physical state and continued battle if that had been his choice. –

 

Candle:  After making a man’s head pop with ease, Baal stared at soldiers. Oh how scared they looked against him, there trembling faces and shaking bones made him feel alive. It made him feel some type of feeling that he never normally got, most likely because he was a menacing psychopath that only Hell could tame.
Grabbing another soldier, Baal held him out horizontally and ripped his body in half. Using the separated body he chunked it at someone and listened to the thud as a soldier dropped to the ground. With blood on now onto his face the scent of blood made him close his eyes and sniff the beautiful scent in. Now that the scent of blood was in his system the now normal Baal would be turned into a monster who committed such horrors.
Taking off his armored coat his muscles began to enlarge and so did he in height. At the sight of such transformation it looked absolutely disgusting, but it was necessary if he was going to live. His body morphed into a colossal demonic killing machine, when this happened there was no stopping him until the scent of blood was gone from his system. Baal kept the cigar in his mouth and grabbed his axe and turned it into a double sided spear.
Soldiers hesitated to charge at him so Baal charged them and impaled one after another on his spear. Body after body lined up on the cold Hell forged steel. Eventually the tips of the spear would become engulfed in flame, so he threw the spear in the air and caught it on side where there wasn’t any bodies. Then he used all of his imposed strength and tossed it at the direction of Mammon
“I will use your blood to create such a beautiful painting that even Picasso will congratulate me.” He yelled out with his booming hellacious voice.

 

Moo:  The large form of Astaroth proved problematic as he tore through the barrier. The warlocks around the castle could no longer maintain the force field, but it wasn’t as necessary. The cannons were fast at work until the number of the catapults had dwindled down until there were less than half remaining. It was a matter of minutes before a few more would be destroyed. The warlocks focused on protecting the soldiers instead, as the magma Astaroth created was tossed about the field, exploding on impact. Small barriers would surround them momentarily to avoid mass murder of the warriors in the way of the blasts. Instead of say, ten, only a few would take any hit.
Gabriel found herself feeling pleased while her claws smashed through some poor man’s stomach, clenching before she tore away the whole front of him. His stomach tore open, intestines dropping to the ground. She would simply lick her claw and it was another life added to her compilation. Oh yes, she was saving up for the finale.
Her armor was already completely stained with blood along her hands and arms. Her sword was heavier with the amount of carnage she’d collected. She had to give it a good swing to help rid some of the excess blood. Where she had been walking, there was a trail of bodies. Some headless, some cut in half. Others simply missed limbs…or like this poor bastard that crumpled before her…they missed flesh in certain areas.
An idiot swung at her from the left, his blade catching her arm with a clang. The armor in which trailed along this area would catch it before she turned her head to meet his gaze. His already wide eyes grew further. “It’s impolite to stare,” she said meekly. Her sword ran itself through his skull, penetrating the helm he wore as if it were simply tinfoil. That was the power of her Hell-Fire, as it improved her sword’s durability greatly. Her once simple blade had morphed until it was twice as large, curving slightly while it radiated bright red-orange flames.
These flames spread over the corpse upon contact. Had he not already been dead, he would have been screaming bloody murder. She frowned as she tugged at her sword once. The body came with it. Irritated, she pressed her foot against his chest and yanked her sword away. It made a sickeningly sweet noise as it left his head, blood spurting over her. She opened her mouth gladly, taking the blood on her tongue before swallowing. Yum! She made a noise of glee, obviously enjoying her killing spree.
Though admittedly it seemed that Baal was enjoying himself much more thoroughly. She would admire his strength from afar as he tore a body apart before laughing. That’s right! She would have this war finished before the sun set. Mammon would fail. And his head would decorate her throne room, along with Belial’s and Hex’s. A hall of fame, dedicated to those who fell to her feet. Those pathetic men deserved no better place than the floor at her feet. Maybe she would make a coat from his skin. Her blade lowered while she stared off into the distance, the circle of bodies around her giving plenty of warning to other warriors of greed. They simply did not want to fight her. Cowards, the lot of ’em.

 

Zetta:  The Gate-Keeper’s eyes were slit in the skies above from the incoming wind and limbs flying up to his level, his arms crossed in an x-formation before him to collect as much air as he could between his fingers to further halt his fall upon realizing his enemy to be fleeing the scene there. His crash landing seemed futile as the great draconian beast simply jumped a great distance from where he saw Cecil would land. The bloodied warrior did not care for what damage this would do to himself, but as he descended rapidly only wondered if he would make it to him before he could do any massive attacks. He landed, bringing a massive bunch of debris into the air around him. His choice land split majority of the fleshy mass that he had gathered in the air, which was primarily to damage his target further but now had served to break his fall. Still; as he positioned himself to punch through the dragon, the bulk of his hands, his knuckles were built up to withstand the pressure the ground would bring. That which he brought upon himself with that jump. As one who decided the capacity of their flesh, he was not so damaged when his knuckles met the blood-soaked ground.

The entire area around the man would suddenly twist and distort into an incomprehensible sight. The grass rose from the ground and was now blotting out his peripheral vision. For just a few moments while he had been recovering from shock was he then reminded of the fighting going on: Directly ahead of him were Thousands of soldiers all locked in battle out of nowhere, beside him, behind him, all around was fighting going on. Blade pit to blade; Yet not one person turned to the new one that had fallen from the sky. This was a battle-field clearly and the revolving intensity was enough to hike the nerves of any living being. Blood was shed at rapid rates and the ground beneath everyone’s feet was pooling blood, It would become clear now that this was an active genocide, there were simply too many people and escalating casualties to be anything but mass murder committed against royalty. Everyone involved would likely be dead, except for his Princess, that was for sure. And while Cecil could only be in observation if he did not join in as well. The dragon was too far ahead, and he was not going to just chase it down, he would carve a path of blood until he directly saw him again: These people became illusions of his past, a wall of flesh that he would tear down once again. They were impervious to incoming damage from him as what was happening was a scripted showing, no one defeated the Kingdom of Wrath in open combat. The blood under him however was ripe with many different cells and originated in the bodies of living men.

He grew blades of sharp diseased organs, becoming dense from his power. Taking those; he began running point-blank ahead trying to ensure the dragon had no place on the ground while Cecil still breathed. The warlocks were doing a fine job of saving the ones on the floor, while Cecil would make it unsafe for the remaining opposition of grunts until he found one strong. His arms tore people in half, some would manage to cut him before then, but would be split apart all the same. His eyes had deadened and became cold completely, with no satisfaction as long as Gabrielle remained necessary on this battle-field.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was now a battle that rivaled any of the great events in history. The humans world of Terra could not possibly compete with the likes of the Demonic Princes and their savage armies. One might think it strange that all this was over the simple killing of a Prince by Gabriel, however one must understand that this was Hell, and the Seven Princes were of Sin. Each driven by that desire; and what could you expect from one like Mammon, whose true nature of Greed was showing through. Mammon had one of the best armies, fought in the most hellish of armor at great risk to himself….and all to prove a point. Hell was run by men, not the scantily clad wenches that easily destroy their mates; such as what had happened to Belial. In Mammon’s mind there was no Princess of Hell, just a whore that preyed on men’s needs and wasted when no longer of use.

Within the beserker armor; great change was occurring to the Prince of Greed. He no longer sounded like the pompous sexist pig of a man, but he was now more beast than anything else. Mammon chose his first target on which to wield his soul crying sword. With a great powered swing, he attempted to slice the Veiled man in two – who had been mostly obscured by a dark veil for the start of the fighting. But he was not totally unprepared for Mammon, having met the upward slash of Mammon’s blade with his own. The clash of two swords would cause a massive shock wave of sound and vibration, that reverberated back down through the handle and would jolt Mammon in such a way, that he fell back and had to grip his sword’s handle tighter. It was in this moment that the veiled man’s appearance really shone through. Light purple blue skin and spiky white hair. Mammon let out a roar of laughter on seeing his foe for the first time. It was hollowed, as if he had spoken down a long tunnel. .

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain” The veiled man said, before using the momentum of his blade in a forward push to drive Mammon back. Mammon, who was still at full strength, did take a step back but planted his boot hard by the heel into the floor to slow and steady his stance once more, as he watched the veiled man flip backwards. Mammon changed his hand grip now to a two handed hold on the blade. To follow the veiled man in Mammon’s eyes was to lead him into a trap; away from the main prize of that bitch; Gabriel. Snarling he spat the word”COWARD!”, before his attention was seized by the whistling sound of an oncoming object. The skull helm turned sharply, where he then saw the oncoming of a spear being thrown at him with strength by none other than….Baal. The fire tipped spear blazing, struck the left shoulder of Mammon, it’s spear head piercing the armor plating. Mammon roared not in pain, but in anger. His closest ally had turned on him. Mammon released a hand from his sword grip and then reached up as the spear was wedged into his armor plating, with blood spewing out from the hole around the blade tip. One with the armor, he snapped the spear length free from the arrow head which was slowly being consumed by the armor itself as it worked to close the gap in the plating – forging the metal into itself. The spear length clattered to the ground as Mammon yelled back at Baal. ”And I’ll make you cook and eat your own flaccid cock! You treacherous pig!”

It was clear that there was now no love between the Prince of Gluttony and the Prince of Greed.

The bowmen, though dwindling in number due to the cannon fire and the constant attacks from the Wrath army were not retreating as one might imagine. Flanked now by the horseman, they made a full on run at the Castle to take on ALL of the Wrath army in a squirmish that would go down as the Day Hell turned in on itself. The battle elephants were now having to defend themselves, some spooked as their drivers were struck by enemy fire, and were now charging indiscriminately at the waves of soldiers regardless of whose side they were on. It was demon against demon, orc against orc. The Greed army was under orders to fight to the last man, and that was exactly what it intended to do.

The beserker armor was now changing forms as it became more skeletal in its shape, though black as night. The loud footfalls of the Prince of Greed would signal he was on the march to end the one that had started all of this, with her murderous spree. He knew Baal would probably make another attack, and boy did he hope he did. Mammon knew that if Baal was under the spell of the Princess, it would distract him from trying to end the Prince of Greed in battle. Baal only had enough blood to use his brain…or his cock, so if she was there flaunting her womanhood, Baal would be put off. Mammon was counting on it.

”COME FACE ME, YOU STINKING TART. I CAN SMELL YOUR FISHY SNATCH FROM HERE!”

 

~RB~