12-08-2006, 10:01 PM
Amidst the mark of valor, a location that would surely be notable when the time came for this surreality to draw to a close, Cold swung bulbous fists into the clashing forces. But it was so real, drawing Cold away from the illusion of war for but a meager moment of clarity. War was but an illusion was it not?
Wrapping himself in his own arrogant embrace the Changeling stalked forward, through a reckonable force with his sidearm in precise position. The massive rifle that provided cover for the changeling?s dwarfed, yet eager, prowess had long been dismantled under a palling reign of gunfire. Yet King Cold held fast to his tauntingly sluggish swagger. The emperor?s tail sent snow scattering as it slit through the air, leaving a underhanded whiplash and a severed soldier behind as it?s only attest to its devious potency. By now a soldier had taken notice of Cold?s exploits and gathered himself alongside him, throwing shots upon any that came within range. By the time Cold?s simple march towards the structure came to a climax, not within the tower in the least, he?d had a few men at his side and they were sent away with a nod.
It was then that a gray-haired man bumped into him, his visage cloaked by the mask of a fox.
?What the fu?? but before the sovereign even had the time to deliver his profane exclamation, another warrior rushed into the Dante soldier, his banner clearly not that of Dante?s regime. In a blatant retaliation Cold drove his own fist into the awaiting visage of the source of this imbalance, sending the Syntech lieutenant sprawling backwards and the elderly man enough time to regain his footing.
The enigma behind the guise of a kitsune bowed, his hands clasped in a surmountable unity. The signals were potent enough, so Cold slid down into a stance of no particular vantage over the opposition.
?So, I have to face two of you. Why don?t you fight like m?,? Cold took no particular interest in the words seeping from between the lieutenants lips, his fist coming down upon it with enough resilience to split the flesh apart from each other. This, again, took the man by surprise and Cold had yet to halt the call of war for an introduction. Spinning round but once brought the whiplash of the dastardly appendage, attempting to snatch the very life from the timely man. His head was barely cleaved from its shoulders when the man flung himself beneath the fury of the changeling unfit to be a king.
?Kill anything that stands in your way.? Cold had grunted to the old man, turning to continue his waltz as the man gathered himself up. However he was challenged by the lieutenant, who called for the company of the old man as well, identifying him as Gohan. So there they would stand, locked in a deadlock until this confrontation was left either slumped over or simply shattered.
?Gohan, is it?? Cold had called over the tidal roar of battle, his brow contorted to show his misunderstanding. Cold hadn?t really worked out the names of every soldier in his marching unit for obvious reasons. All he could remember were Ben, Broli and some guy named Bob. ?We?ll save the formalities for when were on top of that tower shouting triumph.? King Cold?s finger pointed to the tip of the tower, where shots rained upon as Dante?s reign continued. They would fall, but it would not be quite the walk in the park Cold hoped for.
Wrapping himself in his own arrogant embrace the Changeling stalked forward, through a reckonable force with his sidearm in precise position. The massive rifle that provided cover for the changeling?s dwarfed, yet eager, prowess had long been dismantled under a palling reign of gunfire. Yet King Cold held fast to his tauntingly sluggish swagger. The emperor?s tail sent snow scattering as it slit through the air, leaving a underhanded whiplash and a severed soldier behind as it?s only attest to its devious potency. By now a soldier had taken notice of Cold?s exploits and gathered himself alongside him, throwing shots upon any that came within range. By the time Cold?s simple march towards the structure came to a climax, not within the tower in the least, he?d had a few men at his side and they were sent away with a nod.
It was then that a gray-haired man bumped into him, his visage cloaked by the mask of a fox.
?What the fu?? but before the sovereign even had the time to deliver his profane exclamation, another warrior rushed into the Dante soldier, his banner clearly not that of Dante?s regime. In a blatant retaliation Cold drove his own fist into the awaiting visage of the source of this imbalance, sending the Syntech lieutenant sprawling backwards and the elderly man enough time to regain his footing.
The enigma behind the guise of a kitsune bowed, his hands clasped in a surmountable unity. The signals were potent enough, so Cold slid down into a stance of no particular vantage over the opposition.
?So, I have to face two of you. Why don?t you fight like m?,? Cold took no particular interest in the words seeping from between the lieutenants lips, his fist coming down upon it with enough resilience to split the flesh apart from each other. This, again, took the man by surprise and Cold had yet to halt the call of war for an introduction. Spinning round but once brought the whiplash of the dastardly appendage, attempting to snatch the very life from the timely man. His head was barely cleaved from its shoulders when the man flung himself beneath the fury of the changeling unfit to be a king.
?Kill anything that stands in your way.? Cold had grunted to the old man, turning to continue his waltz as the man gathered himself up. However he was challenged by the lieutenant, who called for the company of the old man as well, identifying him as Gohan. So there they would stand, locked in a deadlock until this confrontation was left either slumped over or simply shattered.
?Gohan, is it?? Cold had called over the tidal roar of battle, his brow contorted to show his misunderstanding. Cold hadn?t really worked out the names of every soldier in his marching unit for obvious reasons. All he could remember were Ben, Broli and some guy named Bob. ?We?ll save the formalities for when were on top of that tower shouting triumph.? King Cold?s finger pointed to the tip of the tower, where shots rained upon as Dante?s reign continued. They would fall, but it would not be quite the walk in the park Cold hoped for.