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12-17-2011   #221 (permalink)
Deadpool approves!
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The undead man Finir assaulted earlier had regenerated, even when the dragon had tore off his arms completely. The sound of this twisting bone and flesh - a duet of morbidity - tortured Finir's sensitive ears, and even made is usually iron stomach twist and cringe at the sound and the site of this bloody mess.

"Urgh...That didn't work, Nimi..." Finir said in a dejected sigh.

"Well, sure it worked," Nimi voiced with clear irritation, "It did something. Just like you said."

"Geh..." The azure dragon felt a bit embarrassed by his foolish idea. If they could recover from something like Drake's gravity crush, why couldn't they from simply losing a limb? He'd hate to see what a regenerated head would look like if he were to lop off a neck or two...

At his moment of discouragement, there was the sudden Thud! of Michael's overhead assault on an undead, as well as Bianca's gleeful presence and attitude. Finir's zeal and morale instantly with few of his role models entering the fray. He turned back to his recovered victim and hit him back away with a focused ball of water from his maw.

Also a moment afterward, the Asgard party, including Lari and Ferre, had arrived! And not to mention--

The undead man Finir faced flew back from a yellow blast that followed his water volley, and with a twist of his neck, Tiamat immediately came into his sight and at his side.

"Are you well, child?" she asked in her usual solemn tone.

"Yes, my Queen. Thank you for your concern," Finir answered. She nodded quietly with a smile, her bright yellow eyes examining his conscience closely. She turned toward an undead assailant and hit her away with the emblem staff. She glimpsed intently on the eyes, and glared.

"Diasee..." she thought to herself, seemingly critical...

And yet...a somewhat wry smile appeared about her maw as she thought on.

Both she and Finir twitched their ears to hear the singing from Tiamat's Seraphim friend, Ferre:

In this infinite concentration, I will execute the purge
For the sake of summoning and liberating you, little bird
I shall purge the evil that threatens you!

In this hurried frenzy of destruction, I will cut the bonds that hold soul and flesh together!
Purge the evil spirits, purge the diseased flesh, purge the taint!
In this hurried frenzy of destruction, I will cut the bonds that hold soul and flesh together!
Begone and fall from this ephemeral world!

The undead around them seemed to groan laborously, as opposed to their earlier heavy breathing, as if they had gills with no promise of water in this sandy wasteland. The Queen of Dragons smiled again.

"Now is your chance, child," she whispered from over Finir's shoulder. "Strike with confidence as yonder angel, Emilio!" She gestured her staff toward Finir's angelic companion, and saw that with an axe, he cut off a limb...and no regeneration occured! Finir seemed almost surprised, as if only Lady Luck could bless the chance of no regenerating. "I shall tend to Ferre," Tiamat continued, "I leave the rest to you!"

"Yes, my Queen!" Finir nearly shouted in confidence. With that, the Dragonkin went on a frenzy with Nimi in hand! He lept here and lunged there, rolling heads and limbs from his surrounding assailants.


Tiamat smiled at her Retainer's rampage, and made a great wingbeat at the ground, emitting a small shockwave as she did that sliced off the legs of encroaching undead, her necklace dancing in the force of her inertia. She spiraled to face upright as she called out for Ferre, and landed close to him.

She occupied his shoulders with comforting claws, rubbing and caressing them.

"Ferre, are you alright?" she whispered, looking on at the scenes below. "... Diasee is becoming desperate, having to rely on these poor souls to do his bidding...this is sacrilegious...!"


The Dragonkin enjoyed letting loose on these fiends as he chopped, scratched, sliced, bashed, swiped, and whatever attack word you can think of through the multitude of undead. There was a grin upon his face and a chuckle welling up within his throat.

But all of that faded when a much smaller obstacle stood in his way. In fact, the Dragonkin was horrified by what he saw. Among the ranks of the undead...was an adolescent girl, still with the same eyes and complexion as the rest of the undead. Her expression, blank. Eyes half closed and faded with a vacant stare, slightly parted lips, a funeral gown, and nicely done twin pony tails.

Finir was nearly heartbroken, but kept his composure.

"Guys!" he called out. "...I found a small...undead girl..."

Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.

Last edited by Marzai; 12-18-2011 at 12:05 AM.