halialkers: (Default)
The Shadow-woman's aim was disrupted when Vizornii Hezhatin simply created a shield in front of her face, the impact of the blow jarring the Shadow-woman's arm, even in the armor she wore, with sufficient force that she halted. Displeased, the Shadow-woman then hurled a knife straight for Hezhatin's face, only for the blade to disintegrate in impacting on a second shield. Vizornii, meanwhile, had carefully prepared her first move, which was a pair of telepathic signals intended to overwhelm both combatants with an enhanced set of brainwaves requiring sleep. Both Suvacel and the Shadow-woman were to reel from the impact, though only Suvacel was driven to her knees holding her head and groaning about how much her head hurt. The Shadow-woman bent forward slightly, and then her eyes blazed with an unnatural light.

Naughty.

The single word disrupted Hezhatin's concentration for a second, but that was enough. The Shadow-woman collided into her with a tackle that attempted to barrel her over, only for Hezhatin's body in turn to crackle with energy and then blast the Shadow-woman back. Afterward Hezhatin then retaliated with her own super-speed move that brought her shoulder into the Shadow-woman's face and then threw the Shadow-woman right into the just-risen Suvacel, barreled onto her back by the impact of the Shadow-woman being tossed.

Not intending to fight in any kind of fair fight, Vizornii then released a set of concentric small kernels of energy that began to release lightning-like strikes downward, strikes that struck all over Suvacel and the Shadow-woman with explosive force. These strikes did their work very efficiently on Suvacel, who had to spend her strength stopping them instead of being able to strike herself. The Shadow-woman, however, became first irritated and then angry, growling with a rumble like two boulders scraping together. before releasing a wave of mystic power that barreled Hezhatin head over heels backward, though Hezhatin managed to collect herself and remained levitating in the air.

The Shadow-woman noticed that the armor that Suvacel was using was badly damaged, and smiled on the inside even as her face and voice indicated continual irritation. Pandaemonium's power, for all that it made good money, might well be more vulnerable than it expected. A few more hits like what Suvacel sustained and Hezhatin would accomplish her mission for her. As she meditated on this, Suvacel was to exploit the aftermath of the Shadow-woman's power-display by hurling herself at the Shadow-woman, who blocked the attack by adopting a position that braced herself, ensuring Suvacel collided into an upraised arm, and then smashed the heel of her hand into Suvacel's chest with her other arm, throwing Suvacel backward, before moving with a blinding speed to propel Suvacel right into the wake of the powerful beam of light that Vizornii Hezhatin had thrown at her. The impact was thunderous and ensured that Suvacel's armor was now hemhorraging power.

Satisfied that no matter what happened that in an Earth hour Suvacel's power would be reduced and her mission accomplished, the blast having destroyed what technology this society could feasibly recreate, the Shadow-woman then stood tall and spoke a few words in a blasphemous tongue of elder creatures not heard in the Empire's reality to that point. A wave of fiendish, eldritch light followed, consuming everything in its path, while Hezhatin sought to counter it with a shield that did not, however, forestall the ever-increasing and unnatural brightness of the light in question............

halialkers: Alucard with smoking pistol, brunette man with red hat, red cloak, red tie, moving gif (Nova)
Suvacel then rose from the ground, holding the Shadow-woman by the neck, displeased by the creature's resistance to her power. She knew her strength was easily ten times what it was and this creature had not only had the gall to resist her great strength but to fire stronger blows at her now than it had used previously. Rage continued to grow in her heart, the rage fueled by the increasing wrath and hatred the armor of Pandaemonium itself stoked in her breast. That universe that seemed so constant was now starting to blur and to meld together to her, life becoming two categories, the threat to be annihilated to sub-atomic particles, and the non-threat to be ignored. Judgment, rationality, discernment, appropriate reactions to appropriate threats, all were becoming the product of the minds of slaves and the weak, them that knelt in craven homage to their pathetic scruples and minds and consciences. The impassive white eyes and expressionless face gazing into her own became the visage of not only a Threat but a Target, something that must without pity, remorse, or simpering complaint be annihilated. A fist clad in otherworldly armor collided with a body clad in a similar armor, and the shockwaves again rocked the environment of the large moon that the clash was on, sending the creature flying backward, landing with a smashing, echoing thud on its back but otherwise altered nothing about it, not physically.

Suvacel, growling now like a beast and less and less like an erudite creature intent on a wholesale destruction without equal, teleported over to her opponent who simply sprang up and grasped her by the neck and lifted her up and then impassive lips opened in that resonant speech:

That's quite enough of this. You understand just enough of this armor that you are dangerous, not enough to deal true harm to your enemies. Even this is too much.

Another fist swung and with the immediate resounding crack and the feeling of being smashed into by an enormous, irresistible rolling boulder Suvacel landed on the ground unconscious. The blow had struck her with sufficient force to produce a concussion, and as the Shadow-woman appeared above her satisfied and prepared to deal a killing blow that would enable her to then dispose of the alien and the armor together, a sudden sharp pain that burned like fire and lightning struck the back of her head and pushed her on top of Suvacel.

Lieutenant Vizornii Hezhatin stood, hand still glowing with traces of the Mind-Fire, six eyes blazing with the captured fury of War made manifest. The Shadow-woman then looked at Suvacel and at Vizornii, and then said: 

So there are two of you, but one of you has green and black stripes, the other not? Well, at the very least a witness will enable me to fulfill my Master's directives.

The Shadow-woman lunged at Hezhatin only for Hezhatin to suddenly bend forward and her momentum to carry her into a dislocated pile of dust and rubble, which gave Hezhatin the time to withdraw from her belt and load a handgun equipped with the experimental Gerizhardin Incorporated plasma clip. Not wasting any time, she shifted the gun to semi-automatic and then opened fire, the cartridge's unexpected recoil effect causing two of the shots to veer wild but the rest to hit the creature square in the chest.

Rising, the Shadow-woman was now irritated.

So you, too, seek death? Then death shall indeed welcome you with open arms!

With this the Shadow-woman then became a blur faster than eyes could see or nervous system impulses could register, aiming for Vizornii Hezhatin with a single clothesline strike...........
halialkers: A portrait of myself including the blotch-pattern inherited from Mom (Maxidren)
The power in the two fists collided with the sound of a rolling wave of thunder, and the wards shook again. They were designed to hold within, but power of the scale that was growing without was to begin to stress them. The power itself caused a seismic impact that echoed on seismographs all over the Xaderavcar Moon. Vizornii was briefly knocked over by the impact, even as it was followed by another powerful strike, and then another. Then another. Blows that echoed with the might and wrath of a God against a Dragon or a Giant. Mythology made manifest. For the two individuals in question, it was a succession of echoing displays of might that were encountering stubbornly resistible obstacles. Shadow-woman was angered that a simple display of power met an obstacle that truly blocked it. Azhan for his part was amazed at the power of resistance this Baranik had to the power he was releasing. The two swung further, blows striking faces, shoulders, stomachs, kicks blocked, and within the prison, as wards weakened, powered armor was attached to flesh.

But as this began, the Shadow-woman tackled Azhan who for his part went willingly with the tackle, in order to elbow the Shadow-woman in the face, in order to get her to loosen up enough that he slammed his knee into her armor. Growling at the sensation of the armor seemingly trying to gnaw upon him, he hurled his elbow into her again, and this time it blew her back enough for him to draw his fist back and slam her further away, to a point where they both rose to the ground. The Shadow-woman smiled. It would not be long now. The supernatural strength this alien posessed, his invulnerability, they had limits. All that she needed to do was strike until the internal injuries, starting as feather-thin became too many and too dangerous to resist.

Yet the supernatural strength itself collided into her with a brutal and total power that caused her vision to temporarily black out, the stunning effect on her head coupled with a massive piledriver blow to the face, and then a slamming of two fists held together into her face that finally knocked her over. As she fell, her vision returned and she began to laugh. Her power began to gather around her as a visible aura, and she rose to the ground, only for the wards that had continued to shimmer to suddenly crack altogether. As she rose to strike him, the wards that had shattered revealed a strange figure.

Six eyes glowed with a crackling light blue energy, the energy itself taking a form like and unlike flame and electricity both. The footsteps had that same curious mixture of drums and thunder that marked the Shadow-woman's own. The figure was strange. It had pointy ears, that stuck out, with a skin-flap that bore a vague structural resemblance to a bob haircut and a long nose all set on a red face, the body itself both tall and giving an indication of bulk and power even without the armor.

The Shadow-woman turned. The armor was part of what she sought. Pandaemonium's darkness was all over it, in it, through it. It was worse still, the figure that had transformed this into the armor plating was already a sadistic and violent creature before it had encountered the energy that now enhanced its might, already sufficient to rupture space-time on a galactic scale, by an order of magnitude. With this, the creature's in-built sadism and violence had escalated. In practice, this took the form of a smile that curved up on both sides of the creature's face, a rictus of malevolence that was coupled with the creature giving her that look that was present on all the powers of Darkness when Darkness grew and magnified.

Suvacel kept smiling as she walked toward the strange figure whose pulsing, breathing armor seemed to stop both the pulsing and breathing, transforming into a pure plate armor as though in both fear and anticipation. The two began to circle each other, and the Shadow-woman spoke:

You are a fool, alien. You command power that you cannot control, and you mistake the might that surges through you for a benefit, a blessing. It is curse and it is menace. You must remove that armor and destroy it, or you shall surely find that there are many strange things in the Omniverse, some of which are beyond the power even of one such as you to understand.

Suvacel laughed, a simple, short, crude braying that was followed by Suvacel's own words:

Pathetic. You sound just like Major-General Xaderavcal. Control. You think that adhering to some standard is any benefit. To keep control is no gain, to lose it is no loss. You think that adhering to the standard of fools that make weapons of Godly power is going to save anything. If fools make us, they perish on their own success. It is the natural way of all things.

The Shadow-woman responded: 

As I said, you're a fool. Power of this sort is not a toy, it is not to be wielded unwisely. That is precisely what it is that you do. You treat it as though this is a game, you treat the concept of vengeance and murder as though not only are you entitled to use them, but you are somehow superior, for the sake of power and weaponry bequeathed to you by others, things you had neither control of nor desire for without said others.

Suvacel snarled, and then moved closer to the Shadow-woman. She, standing taller than the already-tall Baranik with her odd skin and pupilless eyes was to raise her foot in a hinge-like fashion, sole aimed at the Shadow-woman. The Shadow-woman, irritated at yet another round of the same technique folded her arms across her chest and glared. Then Suvacel's foot collided with her body and the shockwave again barreled over Vizornii Hezhatin, with sufficient force in the landing that she was knocked out and covered in a shower of dust, dirt, and rocks. The shockwave and the hurling body of the Shadow-woman were felt across three major cities of the moon itself, Shadow-woman's frame crushing several buildings, a dumpster, and multiple vehicles, though people fortunately had the sense to flee when they saw the first variety of the impact tearing through a building with a thunderous impact and then continue onward.

As Shadow-woman finally halted in the ruin of one of the military bases she'd previously ravaged, halted by both her slowing momentum and a Containment room designed for a Psi-level Metanormal, she looked up as an arc of light landed at the downward slope of a parabolic pattern right in front of her. Suvacel smiled viciously. She then picked up the Shadow-woman with one hand, only for Shadow-woman to snarl and knee her in the chest with impact sufficient that Suvacel fell over, and in the process released her, enabling the Shadow-woman to land on her feet and on one hand in a three-point landing, which she followed by charging in an animalistic posture.

Suvacel smiled until the impact hit her with a power and weight that belied the smaller size of the Baranik. Not only was this thing tough, it was immensely strong, too. Just what manner of beast was this Baranik, and when did Tamir III produce things like this? As she fell on her back, she looked into the eyes of the Shadow-woman and for a moment in time the creature's face, turned to the side seemed crocodilian with nine eyes, before the Baranik face turned back to her, two eyes glowing with a fell energy.

A fist swung down at Suvacel, who decided now was a good time to begin to call upon the Omega program's next level of strength and caught it in her palm. As she smiled in that ferocious carnivore's grin, her shark-like teeth were followed by her other arm colliding into the Shadow-woman's armor, knocking her over onto her back. As she rose to her feet, she stood over the Shadow-woman and prepared to send a foot into her face, to crush it for an ending that would be both brutal and unglamorous for this thing that challenged her. Only to see the Shadow-woman out of nowhere materialize a strange object, a projectile weapon like a cruder variety of gun. The Shadow-woman fired and the recoil pushed her deep into the dirt, three feet by three feet. The blast itself threw Suvacel high into the air and she fell with a resounding thud.

The Shadow-woman teleported over to Suvacel, traveling two miles to do so. She figured that it was enjoyable, but the creature would be dead from that strike. As she came to the crater that Suvacel had made in terms of impact and landed inside it, kneeling by Suvacel, she absent-mindedly tapped the creature's closed head with her clawed gauntlet's right index finger piece, only for the creature's eyes to open and an armored vise to grab her by the neck, coupled with a growling sound like glaciers grinding against each other. Evidently she'd misjudged just what sort of enemy she faced.......
halialkers: A portrait of myself including the blotch-pattern inherited from Mom (Maxidren)
For Azhan Henazhir, the events of this day were to become a defining moment of both his life and of the long and twisted evolution of the Omega Program. He, one of the most powerful Psi-level Metanormals in the entire Empire, was a rarety, a man with an entire slate of power that could be used at levels that in lesser societies would lead him to be called a God among mortals. He could leap the tallest of buildings in a single bound, and could also fly distances at speeds sufficient that to cross between planets and moons was a matter of hours. Speed never advisable to use, admittedly, near any populated area. He had strength sufficient to shatter mountains, and the ability to withstand everything up to the atomics, the most dangerous of weapons shy of other metanormals themselves. And it was for this reason that he, like the very Omegas themselves always felt like the world was fluff. Simple, ludicrously easy to tear, fluff. A world that was almost in a sense too fragile to ever be real. That was then. Now, now there was a growing shadow in the midst of pure light, and a voice echoing from it:

Hail, mortals of another world, for it is Shadow made flesh that comes upon you. You have something I seek. Tell me where it is, and you shall certainly live. Do not, and your fate has already been made known to you. The question is then whether you wish to die with flesh or only as bone.


The Shadow-woman was confident. An entire celestial orb cowered before her in fear. And why not? The great general of Hell itself walked among them, fear was purely rational. Her armored feet moved in the half-falling human gait, echoing like the drums of an army marching. The armor breathed and pulsed with power. And then she saw an alien coming toward her. Not like the others, this one. Shorter than a human but impossibly muscular. Its skin was curious. Dark, dark grey, not black, but a grey dark enough that it had more than a little resemblance to it. Orange in a pattern akin to strange splotches like those of a jaguar hybridized with those of a snow-leopard. The thing had a long face, a huge nose, and brow-ridges. It was roaring in a language she understood only through magic: 

Your reign of terror ends now!

Smiling, she walked confidently to this alien. Another alien like this had challenged her. Let this thing strike her, let the strike fail, and then dispatch yet another fool who longed for death and would surely thus be allowed to die. As the alien arrived at an amazingly fast speed, she saw it stop and then raise its foot. Even better, a fool of an alien that would kick. Let it waste its strength, then show it what-

The impact was like a collision with a boulder in an automobile going at 100 miles per hour. Her vision blurred, her breath was temporarily halted, and she was conscious of going back only in that the alien was receding from her at a speed that even magic could not short-circuit. If she had been able to focus, she would have seen windows shattered and in some cases walls falling in with the impact. She would have also appreciated the deep furrows her feet had carved into the ground until her momentum halted with her body nearly all underneath the ground, and the look of shock on her face. The impact stunned her. With her parentage and armor being what it was, however, she rapidly burst out of the ground and arrived at the alien, who was hovering over her in the sky, and to her surprise the alien was not surprised that she'd survived the impact. Instead its foot lashed out again, striking her in the head with another shattering impact that threw her heels over head, landing on her face with a thunderous, echoing rumble past the crevice her being smashed back had opened.

As she rose again, she was truly and sincerely angry.

That hurt. That was not wise.

The alien then landed in front of her as she raised her fist and slammed it into him with the power of anger, but due to this very anger itself he managed to duck under it and then smashed her in the gut with a single powerful strike. But the Shadow--woman rose again and as the stunned Psi-level Metanormal looked, she swung an elbow right at his face with sufficient impact to rock him back.

What are you? 


The Shadow-woman's strange voice, simultaneously whisper and bellow had a curious effect on the alien. Clasping hands to his ears, he snarled and then said:

I was going to ask the same of you.......

But as the two then proceeded to move, their speed, due to the unexpected power of the strikes hitting them had become synchronized, meaning that two fists, one smaller and encased in dark red armor and one larger and encased in a normal robe were heading simultaneously to the faces of two individuals, neither of whom noticed the growing haze and twist in the air, like heat shimmering in the hottest of days, but a shimmer that was the unnatural power of a tangible mystical ward disoriented by the power displayed near it.......

_________________

Lieutenant Vizornii Hezhatin, meanwhile, had already felt the impacts growing and was following the oldest path of them all when it came to a clash between armies, even when the power that would be in armies was contained in the bodies of individuals: go to the sound of the power unleashed.....

__________

Suvacel, in her prison had completed the last phase of her helmet when she noticed the wards around her prison were starting to warp and weave. The sounds of thunderclaps echoed out, a voice like a whisper and a thunderclap. Freedom called, if she could but ensure the thunder stayed.......
halialkers: Vulcan at his forge, squat blacksmith hammering force (Axitunnin Maugrin)
If one had not been told that the Fortress of Ar Akh Gor IX was a prison, one could easily be forgiven for mistaking it for a resort. cut for length )

What they had not reckoned on was that a figure would appear within the light, invisible to their eyes, and discovered weaknesses in the position. The firebases of the secret police had been set too far apart for effective mutual support, the firearms and like weaponry were improperly suited. These weapons were designed for longer range use than they were currently prepared for, and for use in mobile warfare, not in some prepared static defensive line as was currently the case. These weapons were not capable of hurting her in any effect, but the Shadow-woman was all the same offended. Her first theatrics demonstration, and it was against amateur hour. Well, better this than nothing.........

_____________

Author's Note: Yes, Suvacel from Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night is back.........

halialkers: Nova with the Avenger, woman in black armor with very big gun (Nova-2)
Diarch Vozhondil III Military Base, City of Kekezhar, Jehexaderavcal lunar colonies, Throneworld sector:

The burly soldier was distressed. Other bases had reported attack by a strange Baranik who in contrast to the normal dark skin and hair of the bipedal inhabitants of the southern realm of Tamir III was one who was pale, and an unhallowed and unearthly pale at that. This figure had eerie white hair, but her eyes had no pupils. Those figures, so distinctive amongst the Earth-dwellers in their camera-like function, were entirely absent in her and yet she'd already come and gone against all resistance. Today the artificially xenoformed environment was not even producing any wind, to further his discontent. And as if this weren't already enough, a number of his platoon had gone to investigate strange noises and he'd heard nothing from them since. Then the crackling sound of their Ex-Proj rifles echoed, each sending off ammunition into a target whose response was summarized when he saw one of his fellows thrown like a rag-doll through a window and then through several more windows and two more buildings in the base. The others continued to fire and scream and then he saw others of them tossed with ease. Initially fear made him immobile, but he soon recovered his instincts and his training led him to run to the base, where he began to enter the indentification code into his Simul-Tech Incorporated Network device, desperately trying to reach home base.

A wind began to howl, unnaturally, for now he was in a building where there was only the artificial air cooler and where he'd in his hurry made sure that any doors he headed to were locked. Footsteps echoed in the hall, footsteps that were like echoing portents of some sinister dark power made manifest, and this indeed they were. A hand scraped along the metal wall in the hall, what sounded like sharpened armor, and gave it a kind of eerie screech. He dropped the device, and as he fumbled for it, through the emergency lighting in the building he could see the figure walking, but was able to distinguish only clearly at least human-like figure, clad in armor, but in an impenetrable darkness no light could illuminate. The scraping sound passed by his office and stopped. The soldier, a Cthol, had his skin turn a deep red, the color of fear and caught his breath and even held his tentacles on his face down in quiet fear, lest whatever manner of alien or demon out there come to him. He began to mutter prayers to Xiusthnordre, God of Order and the footsteps went onward, until he felt a chill that his body registered by changing to a deep blue.

The shadows were seemingly flowing like a strange liquid in the room, and out of a desire to know what kind of creature would kill him like he had all the others, he turned his light to full volume, but where the shadows were no light could enter. Shadow-liquid became the form of plate armor, a plate armor emblazoned with the terrible and sinister figure of a two-headed dragon-like creature. Many were its teeth and the dragon's two heads appeared to be gnashing at each other and fighting. The figure's armor was red, and curiously seemed to breathe with each step, the individual plates moving with a disgusting autonomy of their wielder even as they clanked and moved in the room. The creature's face was not merely human-like, except insofar in the combination of olive skin, and the darker shade of olive at that, which was far too light for his ordinary experiences with humans, with white hair and pupilless eyes it seemed an ordinary human. Well, aside from that and evidently both tossing around huge Cthols like rag-dolls, disregarding the blasts of the most advanced small arms of his time, and having become manifest from shadow.

The creature reached down and grasped his throat beneath his tentacles, reaching and pulling him right through his desk, which shattered upon impact and left unpleasant splinters in the Cthol's forehead.

You have something your primitive society cannot understand. I would it take it from you to destroy it. Where is it? 


I don't have the least idea what you're t-the hand clasped his throat the harder and he felt the armor seeming to probe his neck and link up into a vice. The feeling was horrifying and distracting enough that he slammed his foot into his captor's chest. Despite his superficially far greater heft and size the creature did not even budge with any kind of shock impact from his foot in her chest. Instead it sighed and said:

If only you soldiers actually understood what a simple fucking question was.


The soldier, one Kenezhan, asked:

How can you speak our language? 

The creature that held him smiled, looking into his eyes:

I am not what I seem to be.

And then as it dropped him and he sought to flee, the creature was now right in front of him and his massive bulk looked up at the seemingly smaller creature who raised her hands and called upon shadow that began to close upon the Cthol who first muttered and then screamed "No" until his last strangled breath was followed by his open hand slumping in front of the Shadow-woman, his claw clattering on her armored foot.

Sighing in displeasure the Shadow-woman transformed into flowing shadow, moving through the layers of the base until she reformed at its top. Perhaps it was a mistake to start with the soldiers. Perhaps it would be wiser to make her next target the local intelligence agencies. As she looked at the chaos she'd caused, the creature saw searchlights begin to search for her and became flowing shadows again, literally flowing down the building. After all, who was like the third-in-command of all the armies of Pandaemonium, the great Hell, itself? And who could raise a hand against her? 

halialkers: Self-portrait, right side of my face. Best drawing of me yet! (Vishori)
Which has been (re)named The Outer Darkness, the Omniverse as such sees a story both for the purposes of establishing characterization and further exploring issues of the Omniverse Rocks Paper Scissors of metanormal individuals v. Cosmic Horrors. The origin of this story has in part inspiration from the Matthias Thulmann: Witch Hunter stories of C.L. Werner, but its primary inspiration is the concepts themselves, specifically in terms of illustrating the ramifications of the Bizjarran Empire interacting with Azarath. As such Vizornii Hezhatin from The New Is Come is pitted against the Shadow-woman from The Bloodworm c a match of a Personification of War able to control those abilities against a cynical and powerful general of an otherworldly nightmare.

Of the protagonist and antagonist, it's the mercenary Eldritch Abomination in human guise that is the *least* alien to us, the protagonist is actually moreso. A crucial aspect of the Tales is to explore the possibilities of using non-human POVs to make actually interesting, readable stories. Not humans with pointy ears, but more akin to relying on the truly alien Starfish Alien varieties. Even when these aliens are bipedal tetrapods, that is where their resemblance to humans begins and ends, just as Tyrannosaurus rex was also an exemplar of a successful type of bipedal tetrapod but was in practice very different from humans.

And as with all the Omniverse Tales *the* animating principle is http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NinjaPirateZombieRobot.

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