[BATTLE] THALIA VS THANATOS

[king]

THALIA vs. THANATOS
ROUND 2 - FIGHT!

[thanatos]

[atrb=width,480,btable][atrb=height,300]

[atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; color: 000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center]take all the filth that remains,

[/div][/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

His breath comes out in pants. The black cloak of his disguise flutters around him like feathers of a raven, flying across the broken street of Goldenrod. He observes, looking around through the deep black pits that are the eyes in his skull mask. There are few people in this area. So many have fled or died because of the fighting. So many innocent people had been victimized by the actions of this terrorist. He stops, halting his progress, leaving the coattails to flap around him momentarily before falling to the cracked stone. The bringer of darkness peers around the corner of the building with a mirror fragment that came from the Game Corner’s explosion. There’s people moving in the street. Soldiers. Civilians. People battling.

They’re far away, though.

The masked teenager sighs, pressing his back against the wall and dropping his hand against his leg. His other arm is still useless. The pain from his dislocated shoulder courses through his body like a deadly poison, radiating from the single point on his right side. Damn... Thanatos isn’t one to be weighed down by pain, but he knows something isn’t right. ...I don’t have the force... he pauses as he takes a gasp for air, the pain feeling like it’s pressing down on his lungs. ...to pop it back. The skull-face mask turns to look at the shoulder, cloaked by black and further invisible to his gaze. The free, pale hand of the young man raises and is lightly placed on his wound.

He stiffens and inhales, biting down on his lip. He can feel the dislocation of his joint. Where there should be bone, there is nothing but soft tissue. He dares to press down. ”Agh!” it is a ragged sound, torn by the pain and determination to keep himself quiet. He holds his breath to prevent even more from coming out. His fingers drop slightly down his numb arm. He finally feels the top of the bone that should be situated in his shoulder. ”Shit...” he breathes, bringing his hand to the free one dangling limp by his side.

Delicately as possible, he picks his limb up by the wrist, before bringing it carefully and slowly into the button-up of his black cloak. It is a makeshift sling, but it’s the best he can do in this situation. The mad rage of terrorism that set in such a short time ago had only just kindled the fuel used to start the fire, now it had to hit the charcoal.

A shake of earth sends him stumbling forward, forcing the masked teen to catch himself on the neighboring building’s wall. He knows what that shake is, and it comes from near the center of the city. He knows exactly where. It came from the base of the Department Store. The largest building in the metropolis of a city, something everybody looks at when they see Goldenrod. Something everybody thinks of when they paint a picture in their mind.

To be a terrorist, you had to take things people held dear.

And destroy it.

To crush...

....all...

...hope.

The building trembles. Windows all the way up break or crack, the sound of groaning structural materials can be heard even from where Thanatos is, more than one block away. His Haxorus had its orders. Stay in the shadows of the building, using the strange, black color it had to hide while it attacked. The first step was done. Now it moved to the second. Once the Earthquake shook it to its roots, more obvious structural damage would be dealt.

A small grin spreads over his masked face. His next target has suffered its first strike.

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

TAGS Tsun as Thalia COUNT 614 NOTES hope you don't mind me starting now. waited almost two weeks since Round 2 started // Thanatos is dislocated-shoulder a few blocks away from Haxorus, who is stealthily taking down the Department Store

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td][atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][atrb=height,50]

and make me new inside

[/td][/tr][/table]

coded by JIN of PRE

[/center]

[tsundere]

[atrb=border,0,bTable] no hope in the air. [/style] She's only human, and at times the face of her enemy is all too human as well. Doubt rides on her shoulders with claws bared, and his breath is ash and the dark taste of fire against the back of her neck. The wounds he leave ripple with blood and will not heal. Despite her own fervent assurances otherwise, despite all her prayers to be stronger in the night, she is only human and is of human blood and human bone and her heart is a weak thing, growing ever smaller and shriveled by the war, as all hearts must. Today, though, she feels none of that. As if a weight has been lifted off at the sight of the inhuman atrocity committed here. Since she has a child, she has lived her life by only one sacred law: The world is a bad place and it will hurt you if it can. There are things that change, but that always stays the same. The world is a bad place-- The streets are quiet about her. It seems an eternity since she left Lance behind her. One of them stayed and one of them passed on, but which of them won? She isn't sure. --and it will hurt you if it can. She's holding a gun. Has she always been holding it? The metal is unfamiliar, but there's gunpowder on her fingertips that she can't wash clean. Maybe it doesn't matter. She left Lance behind and passed on, but for what? For this world. Once, she reached for it with both hands, but she can't recall the feeling now. A fairytale born of different days. Her Steelix rides in a pokeball on her hip, his six brothers sleeping beside him. The world-- The building to her side shudders, leaks dust and grit like tears, and Thalia's fingers--why can't she wash them clean!--make the choice for her. The Typhlosion has no love of her, nor her a love for he. He is a tool and she has a purpose. Too often, of late, its been like that between her and her Pokemon, but she can't think how to change it. Thinks she might not even if she could. But he still makes an impressive entrance. His flames bristle about his neck, red with his task and blue with his fury (bristle like a mane, but she couldn't make that comparison for you, a lion as strange and distant to her as the moon) and his roar is a roar, which is to say it seeks the stone-cold bones of your heart and urges them to shatter before him. Before the pain comes. "Damon, find and destroy," Thalia says. Gestures with the gun. And Damon falls silent, pads into the shadows on all fours like a weapon, like himself, utterly. Lava Plume cloaks the building and licks hungrily for prey, twisting around corners and throwing back the dark. It wants to burn--like all fires, it seeks to continue itself utterly at the expense of all else. Like all fires, it has no master. But Damon does, and he keeps going forward, lets the growing inferno embrace him like a brother. tag thanatos. ▪ words --- ▪ notes derp my life made by katya

[thanatos]

[atrb=width,480,btable][atrb=height,300]

[atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; color: 000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center]take all the filth that remains,

[/div][/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

The black eyes of the Haxorus glint in the shadows. They’re sharp like the shards of glass that fall from the building it has harmed. Light flashes in them like they’re glass themselves, showing off the cold reflection of the world it saw before it. It’s between two buildings, pressing itself agaisnt a wall to watch the building it shook. Master said to take it down. How does it go about that? Master gave two commands, but now there is an enemy. A fiery mane as prideful as the creature that wears it is all the dragon sees, keeping its attention on the unplanned arrival.

Would Master put it in danger knowingly? Probably. Would he make plans for the unknown? Likely not.

It lets out a small cry when the creature crouches, loosing fire from its body in a powerful attack to cloak the walls of the building, to crawl forward to where the black pokemon stands like an army of fire ants aiming to devour a meal. What does it do?

There is no Master now.

Not here, at least.

There is nothing to take commands from.

The heartbeat of the beast begins to race, throbbing loudly for the sensitive ears of pokemon to hear. It’s like the beat of a drum, that, the remainder of Master’s symphony. Its black eyes roll slightly, fearful light lining the rims like an ebony-painted fine china.

What happens now?

Fire races towards it, and the mold that was cast so long ago after falling under Master’s control cracks. It’s like a façade being destroyed and broken apart to reveal something true. Something that was no seen for a while at least. Perhaps ever? The mold of obedience cracks like dried earth thirsting for rain.

Instinct.

A roar escapes the jaws of the pokemon as it steps out from its shelter to face the fire and its maker. It has not heard a roar such as that in ages, especially to come from itself. Master had trained and frightened any feral blood out of it.

Or at least, that’s what he’d thought. If he had, the Haxorus would not stand and fight now as it would if it were wild, would it?

The Haxorus lets loose another roar and arches its back, the red blades on the sides of its face arching towards its tail as though it tries to make a complete circle by lifting its thick tail to meet the tips of red. Red like its blood.

The beast slams its tail against the ground, leaning forward with arms spread and claws splayed, loosing another Earthquake as it takes the heat of the spreading fire. The flames lick at the armored dragon like fire caressing a cauldron with stew to heat. It hurts, but it can tolerate this heat. It can stand up to the enemy.

It can fight.

It screeches loudly and follows the spread of its Earthquake, running behind the creeping cracks in the earth for the Typhlosion, right fist cocked and glowing white, aiming to deal a follow-up Brick Break.

With fear engulfing its heart, and no Master to turn to for a command, the beast relies on the most primitive function it has – its instinct.

The violent instinct to fight.

To survive.

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

TAGS Tsun as Thalia COUNT 545 NOTES I promise that when I started typing my intent was NOT to have a whole post from Haxorus POV

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td][atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][atrb=height,50]

and make me new inside

[/td][/tr][/table]

coded by JIN of PRE

[/center]

[tsundere]

[atrb=border,0,bTable] no hope in the air. [/style] He was never like the other like the other wild things. He has no memory of being a Cyndaquil, a Quilava. In this moment is all that he has ever been--that is all that he allows. (There is one memory, that flies apart at his touch when he turns the jaws of his mind upon it and reforms elsewhere, crystal and darkened, and that memory is this: he looks up a the sun, an inconsequential star. He thinks, or does not think, and puts one paw in front of the other. He starts to follow it, his eyes upraised. His gaze never wavers.) No, he was not like them at all. He was what his master dreamed of, the perfect tool, the keen and cutting blade, with no remorse and no sense of duty fulfilled. This was simply what he did. This was all there was--this was all he allowed. As the Earthquake ripped and chewed through the floor towards him, Damon leapt forward, hind legs propelling him up, up, but not away. The building shuddered about them, staggering, but Damon leapt forward, aimed straight for the Haxorus, Flame Charge engulfing his body, licking out hungrily for contact with their prey. He aimed to barrel into the Haxorus and knock it backwards. The trajectory of his leap would take him directly into the path of Brick Break but that was a small price to pay for avoiding Earthquake and slamming the Haxorus to the ground. If that failed, well--he'd cross that bridge before it burned, hopefully. But it wasn't important. There was only the now. Outside, Thalia shifted from foot to foot as the building lurched with the force of the clash taking place inside. She wasn't stupid enough to enter when her pokemon had obviously engaged an enemy; she trusted him to handle it, anyway, but she didn't have to sit around and do nothing either. One foot in front of the other, yes; she could still do that. Walking forward. She began to pace a perimeter around the building, chewing on her lip and eyeing the structure, gun cocked at her side. Far above her, dancing across the rooftops, a black and white streak flitted. He had a careful eye on pink-hair-mine, of course, but this city was rotten to the core. He could smell it. Not just the stink of blood and smoke that hung over it as a result of the past few weeks, but down to the steel bones of it, down to the black and slowly-beating heart. He didn't like it. The concrete of the rooftops bit into his paws, sharp bright pricks of pain that snapped his focus back to what was before him. Deeper into the heart of the rot, the Emolga darted forward, fur bristling and snapping with sparks. tag thanatos. ▪ words --- ▪ notes LDSJFOWEFJLmfldsjfoewfmLFMOEWFMlfmlFJ made by katya

[thanatos]

[atrb=width,480,btable][atrb=height,300]

[atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; color: 000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center]take all the filth that remains,

[/div][/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

The lights above his head have cracked now, flickering out of existence with his Earthquake. They are like tiny insects.They have hard shells protecting the vital things beneath it. The shell covering the lights break and the precious light source within falls out, loosened from its comfortable hold within. Darkness engulfs the fighting pair, and the Haxorus’ dark eyes are all he can rely on to see his enemy. But the foe makes it all too easy, lit up with brilliant fire like a guiding light in the night.

It has leapt to avoid the damaging Earthquake, which has now ripped through the entirety of the floor, up the walls and now starting through the ceiling. The time of the pokemon indoors is limited. Unless they want the building to come down on their heads, they need to get out. But how? Haxorus wants to fight this opponent. He will not back down. He has a feeling his enemy won’t either. They are stuck in a match of wits. Clawed hands strike out at the opponent as it barrels into the Haxorus, body alight with flames of determination. The fire scorches the Haxorus’ armored body and it lets a screech rip through its mouth.

Luckily, the Dragon-type is not especially harmed by the fire – though it is still aware of the wounds it would so like to crawl away and lick. It is forced backwards from the brute power behind the blow. His red claws clack against the tiled floor as he backpedals, forcing strength to his stance before he plants each foot firmly on the ground, curling his toew against the ground and cracking tile with his grip, bracing against the cracked walls with his well-muscled tail. Though minor, it can hear the subtle groan of structural material within the wall, cringing beneath his braced weight. They will not hold for long.

There is now a time limit.

The Haxorus forces one arm from beneath the Typhlosion, where he has positioned his hands on what could be the equivalent of the opponent’s shoulders for sake of keeping a distance – albeit small – between them. The free hand is raised and it slashes downwards towards the face of the Typhlosion. Though it’s not any particularly strong move, it will be enough to get the beast away for a few seconds. As his hand is brought down towards the Typhlosion, his tail raises and bashes against the wall once.

Repitition.

There would be more than one strike required to bring down the wall as Master instructed.

Eventually, the wall would break. (Wouldn’t it?) Eventually, the pokemon would get out. (Probably?) Eventually, the building would fall. (It had to.)

Thanatos can see the building shake from where he sits behind a corner. The mirror shard in his hand shows the smallest details. Material falling from the building or being cast off like a flea on an animal’s coat. Something is wrong, and the stripe-haired boy knows it.

Haxorus should be done by now.

The black and red dragon should have been tromping his way back already.

The building should be falling.

His mouth curls into a dissatisfied frown behind his skull-mask. It will fall. Thanatos assures himself, forcing himself to his feet. He didn’t realize that he’d been brought to his knees. He doesn’t realize now how loose his thoughts are, how light his head is. He doesn’t think to call upon his Salamence to take wing and get him to a safe distance. No. He thinks of only something he can do on foot – walk.

He drops the mirror shard in his pocket and stumbles out from behind the building he’d been sheltered behind for so long. He’s still about a block and a half away from where the fight takes place, but the streets have emptied from just minutes ago. There’s few people and pokemon in sight.

The boy falls to his knees again, this time though collapsing all the way forward, barely managing to catch himself with his functioning arm. The destruction sprouted the seed of some foreign emotion in him. What was it? Was it happiness?

Was it surprise?

Was it fear?

He smiled behind his mask, though. It was a smile coupled with empty eyes. There’s something about the unfamiliar feeling that makes him satisfied, despite the danger.

Whether or not it’s the pain clouding his mind’s function, it doesn’t matter with his next action – subconscious or primitive as it may be.

He falls on his side just a step off the sidewalk in the main road, staring at the destruction happening a ways down through the black holes in his mask. His good arm is tucked safely inside his black cloak, much like the injured, useless limb on his other side. Unlike it though, his fingers close around the grip of his pistol, ready to meet anyone that strikes the owner wrong.

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td]

TAGS Tsun as Thalia COUNT 815 NOTES asdf;alsdkfh

[/td][/tr]

[tr][td][atrb=bgcolor,DDDDDD][atrb=height,50]

and make me new inside

[/td][/tr][/table]

coded by JIN of PRE

[/center]

[sunshineari]

VICTOR:
THANATOS

+300 NOX