a-forsaken-memory

[a-forsaken-memory]

… Okay, something’s up. He drops all pretences, and tilts his head to the side with a faint, almost worried curiosity.

“… 1x?”

What’s… Up here? This isn’t standard. The 1x he knew would have snapped back with something, been cocky somehow. What’s… What gives? Is this another, somehow?

“Are… You a̷l̶r̵i̸g̸h̴t̷?̵“

[ Something of an irritating noise echos through the area John currently settles in. What other then static? Though this serves to mask the majority of other sounds present, the crunching of leaves within the forest are just able to be heard. ]

( hiii :-) @1xsfate )

John grumbles to himself some as he looks around. Static. Grating. He knows full well what that means. He growls quietly, looking around, almost bored and unamused.

“You’re not s̵t̴e̵a̷l̴t̵h̸y̴, 1x.”

What’s the point in sneaking around other killers? Truly, why would you bother to? He doesn’t get it. Each to their own, though. But that does mean calling the other out, all the same.

“Where are you?”

[a-forsaken-memory]

Of everything Phos says, it almost seems like none of it gets a response. He stares at her blankly for a moment, then lets out a low growl- though there’s no hostility in it. The growl ends in almost a cough, and when he speaks;

“Hell if I̴ know, a̸n̸y̸m̷o̵r̴e̷.”

He replies flatly, trying again to clear his throat and voice.

“And if I didn’t want you to care? If I told you directly to treat me like the a̴n̶i̸m̴a̴l̵ it ̵w̸a̸n̷t̴s̷ me to be? Get yourself out. The lot of you deserve that freedom.”

But not him. Not after this. He sees it, in their eyes when he kills them all. And as much as he pushes beyond it, leans into what has been done to him, to allow it to take him, to make this hurt less. He still sees it.

The recognition on Builderman’s face. The worry on that fool’s pumpkin. The terror in ███ eyes… They all still care. They shouldn’t. The man they knew was gone. Phos would never meet him.

“Survival of the f̵i̸t̷t̴e̵s̷t̶, I’m sure you know all about it just by looking at you. We all have parts to play in this h̷e̷l̸l̴i̸s̵h̶ ̸g̵a̴m̶e̶, and unfortunately, mine is to h̵u̵n̸t̵.̴”

He looks his claws over, expression dropping some. Why must he be so lucid? Why must he be coherent in this moment?

“… I’d far rather be at your throat, you know. If I don’t know you, this hurts less.”

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

As I gently work through my inbox and replies today, I should likely remember to announce this!

When this blog reaches 50 followers, there will be a follower event!

Details on the quiet end for now, but I’ll be working with a friend to bring you guys something absolutely wonderful, painful, and full of fun ask and RP opportunities.

Closer and closer..

[a-forsaken-memory]

There’s a flash of recognition in him, he knows that sort of flicker of pain. But as soon as the impulse to help shows up, it vanishes, and is replaced by irritation.

“Well?”

He asks, walking a faint bit closer. Something is up here. What’s wrong? He doesn’t want to care, but he does.

[ Something of an irritating noise echos through the area John currently settles in. What other then static? Though this serves to mask the majority of other sounds present, the crunching of leaves within the forest are just able to be heard. ]

( hiii :-) @1xsfate )

John grumbles to himself some as he looks around. Static. Grating. He knows full well what that means. He growls quietly, looking around, almost bored and unamused.

“You’re not s̵t̴e̵a̷l̴t̵h̸y̴, 1x.”

What’s the point in sneaking around other killers? Truly, why would you bother to? He doesn’t get it. Each to their own, though. But that does mean calling the other out, all the same.

“Where are you?”

[a-forsaken-memory]

… This isn’t going to work. John lets out an almost exasperated growl, pulling his arm out of the ground. He hefts it up and…

Drops to the ground rather heavily. All of his weight landing even heavier than one might expect. He rests his bad arm out in front of himself with a huff.

He never thought he’d have a chance to talk with any of them like this. Wholly prepared to continue on that warpath.

“A̷n̸d̴ ̵y̸e̸t̵ ̸h̷e̵r̸e̴ ̷y̸o̵u̴ ̴a̵r̵e̴.̵ ̷T̵a̵l̶k̴i̵n̵g̶.̶ ̵E̴v̴e̵n̶ ̷a̸f̶t̷e̸r̸ ̷I̷ ̶k̸i̴l̷l̸e̷d̴ ̵y̴o̵u̵ ̵y̸e̶t̵ ̴a̴g̷a̷i̸n̶.̴”

It’s… Flat. Nonhostile. Just… A statement.

“T̴͖͑h̶̞͠i̵̤͒s̴̖͋ ̷͝ͅw̶̳̐o̵̙̊u̷̻͝l̵̛̘ḓ̸͠ ̸͉̎b̵̥͌e̶͓̅ ̸͙̇ĕ̸̹a̶̱̔s̸̘͝i̸̡͂ḛ̸̒ř̵͇ ̶̩̐ơ̵̱n̵̗̓ ̸̮͆ȁ̷͚l̶͔̚l̵͇̀ ̸̞̆ṕ̷̳ă̶͕ŕ̵̭t̴̩̊i̴͈͐ẻ̷̝ś̵͜ ̶̬̽i̷̪͘f̴̩͠ ̶̩͛y̵̺͛o̶̲͛u̵͓͒ ̶̭̆d̸͇͆i̷̦̐d̵͉̐n̶̨͆’̶̞̑t̴͍̃ ̶̫̿ṭ̸͛r̵͓̄ë̵̼ã̶̹t̴̟̑ ̶̘͆m̴̨̎e̶͌͜ ̶̥̕l̴̮͒ì̷̘k̶̗̊e̴̳̅ ̵̧̾Ȋ̶̻ ̵̨̇w̷̖͂à̵̢s̷͉͂ ̷̠̇s̸̲̚ẗ̴͖́i̷̼͝l̸̡̿l̷̳͛ ̷̺͠i̷͉̕n̵̗̑ ̷͈̍h̵̪̑e̶͖͆ŗ̸̉e̷͉͆.̸͕̃”

What?

He shifts, and looks over his arm, brushing… Who the fuck knows, dirt maybe? Off of it, not fully looking at Phos while he speaks. He’d far rather not. The longer he sits here and talks to her, the worse things will be. He can’t get attached.

God knows it won’t let him, or will use it against him.

“Ẃ̴̟͔̮͂̔͗ḫ̶̣͐́y̷͉̟̫̻͌͆́͛ ̸͈̊d̴͈̈́͂ő̵̹̻̲̀ ̸͙͓͗̍͆͘ŷ̸͇̙̫o̴̢̦̯̹̎̎́ú̸̝̐͘͝ ̷̢͓̓͠c̷͍̯̲̓́a̴̧̳̼̞̎̂̈́̈́r̴͎̰̘͍̂̂è̴̠͉̞̩̋̄͝ ̴̘̈́͂s̴̢̤̼͍̑o̴͉͈̳̔̅ ̴̳͎̯̉̉̋ṃ̶̬̑͘ͅŭ̷̥c̵̮̦̗͒h̵͖̗͖̍̇̉̃?̸̼̝̹̈́͝ ̴͕̖̜̓̄̈́͘”

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

He looks over, and huffs, head tilting to the side. There it is.

“Did you want something, or are you just going to lurk?”

It was always a toss up, the sort of reaction he’d get from 1x. A gamble of sorts, one that he didn’t mind taking. He’d cross his arms over his chest to make a point, but he… Can’t. So he just stands there and stares.

[ Something of an irritating noise echos through the area John currently settles in. What other then static? Though this serves to mask the majority of other sounds present, the crunching of leaves within the forest are just able to be heard. ]

( hiii :-) @1xsfate )

John grumbles to himself some as he looks around. Static. Grating. He knows full well what that means. He growls quietly, looking around, almost bored and unamused.

“You’re not s̵t̴e̵a̷l̴t̵h̸y̴, 1x.”

What’s the point in sneaking around other killers? Truly, why would you bother to? He doesn’t get it. Each to their own, though. But that does mean calling the other out, all the same.

“Where are you?”

[a-forsaken-memory]

“I̶t̴’̴s̸ ̵b̸e̴t̴t̴e̶r̴ ̶t̴h̸e̴y̶ do̶͕̝̺̭̟̪̜̓͆̆͒̽n̷̞̤̺̠̹̥͐͆̒̑̈́’̸͓̫͈̬̺̬̍̈́́̈́̌̄̃̄t̷̢̠͇̖̭̪̜̟̙̐̿.̴”

What a simple, flat, and brutally crushing reply!

He watches her sit down, and contemplates the same. But if he did, he’d need to shuffle so much.. It wouldn’t help him any. It would probably hurt, actually. So he remains standing, staring down at her. He looks over his claws again.

“T̷h̷i̷s̸ ̷i̴s̸ hardly ̸e̶n̴t̶e̸r̴t̷a̸i̸n̶m̸e̸n̷t̶.̷ ̶F̷o̷r̴ me,̶ ̶a̵t̴ ̵l̷e̵a̴s̸t̴.̵ ̵I̸ ̴b̵e̷t̴ ̶i̷t̵’̸s̶ ̶g̸e̵t̶t̶i̴n̸g̸ ̵a̶ ̵f̴u̷c̸k̷i̶n̵g̸ ̸k̴i̷c̸k̷ ̵o̶u̷t̵ ̶o̴f̶ ̵t̶h̵i̷s̷,̷ ̵t̸h̴o̸u̸g̵h̸.̶”

He growls quietly, though it’s rather clear that the recipient of it isn’t intended to be Phos. It somehow contains any more vitriol than any growl he’s ever given out during a round, aimed vaguely towards the air around them both.

… He could go for a nap, honestly. Not that anything here would LET him, but he could. Still, he sighs, and looks down at them, expression… Flat. Bored. Maybe even a little tired and… Pained.

“i̸t̶ ̸w̴o̶u̷l̶d̴ ̴l̵i̸k̸e̸l̸y̶ ̴b̴e̷ ̵b̷e̸s̶t̶ ̸i̵f̴ ̸y̶o̸u̷ ̸t̸r̷e̶a̶t̵e̷d̷ ̸t̸h̶e̷ ̷f̶u̴t̴u̶r̶e̶ ̷t̸h̶e̵ ̵s̵a̶m̷e̴ ̶a̶s̵ ̴y̴o̴u̵ ̷h̷a̶v̸e̵ ̵u̵n̵t̵i̵l̸ ̵n̴o̷w̴.̶”

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

“None of you do.”

He replies flatly, lifting his claws up to look them over, brushing them off on his shirt far too casually. He sinks back, and his arm visibly sinks a few inches into the ground. Christ, he’s really leaning on that thing, huh?

“Which is why I don’t bother. It’s a waste of time and energy. The others taunt you all plenty enough.”

Why is he so… Clear? What about this has him so calm suddenly? He almost hates it - scratch that, he DOES hate it. Because it means he’s lucid enough to retain this all. What?

“H̷̱̘͉̊́͂ǘ̵̗̫͎̆r̸̳̻͙͗̐̀͊t̶̛̞̪̊̊s̴̯̍͂ ̵̣̖̟͌ľ̶̥̖̮e̸̼̮̮͔̔̽s̸̤̔̌s̴̛͔̬͙̦̀͘͝,̶̡͕͉͓̈́̎ ̷̢̭̓̈́̌͝ī̴͎̩͍̒̀ṋ̷̰̼̘̽ ̷̹͙͗̀t̴̟͕̣̻̑̆͠h̴͖̳̦̔̀͘̚͜e̵̩̓̇̒ ̷͇̭̇̀͗e̷̯̞̗̥̓̑ņ̸͇̗̔͘͘ḍ̴͉̣͈́.̷͖̦̽̀͝”

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

[ Something of an irritating noise echos through the area John currently settles in. What other then static? Though this serves to mask the majority of other sounds present, the crunching of leaves within the forest are just able to be heard. ]

( hiii :-) @1xsfate )

John grumbles to himself some as he looks around. Static. Grating. He knows full well what that means. He growls quietly, looking around, almost bored and unamused.

“You’re not s̵t̴e̵a̷l̴t̵h̸y̴, 1x.”

What’s the point in sneaking around other killers? Truly, why would you bother to? He doesn’t get it. Each to their own, though. But that does mean calling the other out, all the same.

“Where are you?”

[a-forsaken-memory]

What is wrong with him? He should be leaving. Running away. Fearful. One of these seems true, at least. Does he need to attack Apollo for him to get the message?

“…A̴͔̽n̶̺͠d̵͍̓ ̵̖̕ẉ̸̛ḥ̶̄ý̸̪ ̶̮͘a̴͎̓n̵̫̾d̸͚͐ ̴͈̒h̷͍͑ö̷̦́w̵̠̐ ̴̝̔d̶̳͆ô̸̝ ̷̞̿y̴̪̎ô̴̩ũ̵̯ ̴̝̌c̸̱͊a̴̫͒r̷̅͜e̶͐ͅ ̸̦͐a̵͔̋b̷̳̐o̴̹͝u̸̜̐t̴͉͝ ̴̘̾ä̶̧́ ̷̧̏ t̶��̡̛̘̾̀̒h̴̢͙͈̟̤̩͝i̷̦̻͒̒n̵͇̙̜̓ģ̵̫̯͌͊͂͆̀̕ ̸̩͝ľ̴̞i̴̞͆k̶̀ͅe̴̖͆ ̶̢̄m̸̛̥ê̶̡?̴̛͈”

He’s baffled. Truly surprised. John has never shown any of these people kindness. The concept of it was strange, difficult to offer, and even harder to give continuously. This alone is taking a fair amount of effort to maintain.

Still, he leans forward, mindful of the fact his arm is still in the ground. His voice lowers some.

“A̶l̴l̶ ̵I̷’̶v̷e̵ ̶d̵o̸n̴e̵ ̶i̸s̸ ̶k̸i̴l̶l̴ ̶a̸l̸l̵ ̸o̴f̶ ̴y̵o̷u̶,̷ ̶y̸o̶u̶ ̶k̴n̶o̴w̷.̸ What about that says that’s a good idea?”

While somewhat a threat, it’s also a genuine question.

> [ The crunch of leaves underfoot, unbalanced steps, and quiet personal musings fill the otherwise silent air. A walk is good, especially if he wants to get used to this whole one arm thing. At least it had been pretty uneventful, stars know he needs it. ]

@wires-for-veins UM EHEEM HII HI))

A quiet night… A hard thing to come by here. Especially with the hell of rounds. For once, even John was off for a walk of his own, pleased in even a sliver of false freedom. He sees movement, and immediately he drops from ‘fully lost in thought’ to ‘I need to keep a very close eye on what’s going on’. He moves deliberately, watching from afar. His growling breaths are quiet, but still carry some on the wind, if one listens close enough.

After a few minutes of this, he makes himself known, purposefully crushing a few stray twigs beneath his feet as he walks into view, almost unnervingly nonhostile.

“N̷o̷w̶ what d̸o̵ ̴w̴e̵ ̷h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̵h̴e̸r̸e̴…̵?̶”

He asks, voice low. It sounds genuine, but also borders on being a threat.

[a-forsaken-memory]

…

He’s no fool. He can tell she won’t move. His rush slows to a walk, and when she speaks, he plants his arm into the ground and gives a growling huff. He looks up at her with irritation.

“A̴n̵d̸ ̷w̸h̷a̴t̶ ̷e̴l̵s̵e̷ ̴w̷o̵u̷l̵d̵ ̴you ̶d̶o̸, then?̵”

He’s not happy about this. Not in the slightest. And it’s clear on his face, in his voice, and body language. He’d far rather be alone in his own private “waiting room” than this.

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

What?

John stares at him, good eye widening. This is… Odd. He goes to take another step forward, but he’s planted himself into the ground, so he stops. Right, yes. He was smart enough to catch himself. Good.

“… It won’t help.”

What? Flat and simple as that?

“Corruption of one’s code is not cut and dry. Y̶̦̐ở̸̬̻̪̠̾͑u̸̗̬͍̎ ̴̪̈̈̈c̴̭̲̲͒̂͋a̸̺̲̜͑̎̈́n̸͕̘͂̅̏̈́’̵̹̤̿͊t̷̻̹͛̄̑ ̸̩̲̑h̴͑͜e̶͔͂͆͘̕͜l̵̝̹̲̒̌̕͘p̴̨̺̟̌̄̕ ̴̘͈̱̎m̵̤͔̽̽͗ẽ̸͎̲̓̀.̵̨̇̓̈͂”

His tone is flat, tired even. But also faintly hostile. Whatever Apollo’s trying, it seems it’s either unwelcomed, or unwanted. Or wanted, but desperately, desperately being shoved away. For his sake.

> [ The crunch of leaves underfoot, unbalanced steps, and quiet personal musings fill the otherwise silent air. A walk is good, especially if he wants to get used to this whole one arm thing. At least it had been pretty uneventful, stars know he needs it. ]

@wires-for-veins UM EHEEM HII HI))

A quiet night… A hard thing to come by here. Especially with the hell of rounds. For once, even John was off for a walk of his own, pleased in even a sliver of false freedom. He sees movement, and immediately he drops from ‘fully lost in thought’ to ‘I need to keep a very close eye on what’s going on’. He moves deliberately, watching from afar. His growling breaths are quiet, but still carry some on the wind, if one listens close enough.

After a few minutes of this, he makes himself known, purposefully crushing a few stray twigs beneath his feet as he walks into view, almost unnervingly nonhostile.

“N̷o̷w̶ what d̸o̵ ̴w̴e̵ ̷h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̵h̴e̸r̸e̴…̵?̶”

He asks, voice low. It sounds genuine, but also borders on being a threat.

[a-forsaken-memory]

He falters. Visibly falters. He leans his weight into his arm, much like he had while talking with Chance. And he stares. Not that Apollo would know, but he’s more or less arguing with himself internally. His claws flex a few times, as he settles and refocuses.

Question. Asked a question. He should reply to it. Verbally. He growls quietly, shaking his head.

“… It does. Ḯ̵̺m̷̱̓m̶͎̄ḛ̸̆n̷̥̆s̷̺͠e̷̥̔l̷͚͋y̷̖͐,̷̯͂ ̸͕̅e̶̘̓v̸̪̕e̷̗͌n̵̡͘.̴͓̃ But that is my burden to c̸a̵r̶r̷y̴. Why do y̴o̵u̷ ̶c̸a̶r̸e̶?̸”

> [ The crunch of leaves underfoot, unbalanced steps, and quiet personal musings fill the otherwise silent air. A walk is good, especially if he wants to get used to this whole one arm thing. At least it had been pretty uneventful, stars know he needs it. ]

@wires-for-veins UM EHEEM HII HI))

A quiet night… A hard thing to come by here. Especially with the hell of rounds. For once, even John was off for a walk of his own, pleased in even a sliver of false freedom. He sees movement, and immediately he drops from ‘fully lost in thought’ to ‘I need to keep a very close eye on what’s going on’. He moves deliberately, watching from afar. His growling breaths are quiet, but still carry some on the wind, if one listens close enough.

After a few minutes of this, he makes himself known, purposefully crushing a few stray twigs beneath his feet as he walks into view, almost unnervingly nonhostile.

“N̷o̷w̶ what d̸o̵ ̴w̴e̵ ̷h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̵h̴e̸r̸e̴��̵?̶”

He asks, voice low. It sounds genuine, but also borders on being a threat.

[a-forsaken-memory]

He stops dead in his tracks upon hearing the noise. His smile becomes a grin, and he slowly turns to face the source of the noise. This? This was new. Fun. He can feel his grip on himself slipping, though. Yet, he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Ǐ̴̤͕͈̈́͛̎ ̵̛̮̻͐̊ṡ̷̻͎̖̕e̸̳͚̱͇͌̒̇e̷͍̜͊̍ ̶̢̨̡̫̐̽͛h̵̡͉̹͖̐ó̸̫̳͝ẅ̸͖̠̟̪́̆̾ ̷̜̱̙́̎͐͛i̷̟̓̀͗́t̶͉͙̥̪͑̆ ̵͈̎̃i̸͓̽̄́̂š̸̨̞̺̺…̷̺̭͓̙̏͠”

And with that, he’s off. He practically launches himself towards the building, to Phos, his new punching bag. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s willing to play along.

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

Oh, this one is skittish. John smirks, taking a half step towards it, just to see what it would do. When he speaks again, his voice is surprisingly clear, though his tone is no warmer.

“What a Self-sacrificial set of beliefs…”

He chuckles quietly, tilting his head to the other side, still studying him.

“If the Spectre wasn’t keeping you all alive, you’d be dead a long time ago, wouldn’t you?”

> [ The crunch of leaves underfoot, unbalanced steps, and quiet personal musings fill the otherwise silent air. A walk is good, especially if he wants to get used to this whole one arm thing. At least it had been pretty uneventful, stars know he needs it. ]

@wires-for-veins UM EHEEM HII HI))

A quiet night… A hard thing to come by here. Especially with the hell of rounds. For once, even John was off for a walk of his own, pleased in even a sliver of false freedom. He sees movement, and immediately he drops from ‘fully lost in thought’ to ‘I need to keep a very close eye on what’s going on’. He moves deliberately, watching from afar. His growling breaths are quiet, but still carry some on the wind, if one listens close enough.

After a few minutes of this, he makes himself known, purposefully crushing a few stray twigs beneath his feet as he walks into view, almost unnervingly nonhostile.

“N̷o̷w̶ what d̸o̵ ̴w̴e̵ ̷h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̵h̴e̸r̸e̴…̵?̶”

He asks, voice low. It sounds genuine, but also borders on being a threat.

[a-forsaken-memory]

He could check for them. But where’s the fun in that? He stares down at his claws, flexing them with a scowl that vanishes quickly. After a moment longer of silence, he begins to wander, making no attempt to be quiet.

If he’s here, she’s here. He shakes his claws some, flinging the bits of gore off of them as he moves, gaze sweeping slowly over the area.

Letting himself “relax” he drops into his standard routine, eager and somehow patient to find Phos again, setting a footprint at the base of the “”mountain”” before properly wandering. Not many places to hide here…

Just another round... Shaking out their hands and feet, they braced themselves for another round of this. The words of two people fresh in their mind, it's time to try something new. Well, that's not quite right. They've already jumped through all the necessary hoops to justify this to themselves, this is an investigative round. The only goal is to find out if this will even work, much more if it's even worth it. If they can handle it.

Once she knows that countdown is running, she's off and looking around. Find out who they're up against, any means necessary. The familiar growling is a good sign, followed by spikes erupting from the ground. Maybe the latter is less of a good sign. But she knows John, or hopefully enough to make some educated guesses. He is, luckily, easy enough for them to predict. At least until he learns better- It's not difficult for them to pull his attention off some other poor survivor. Then it's just a game of keeping up with the chase...

Namely, stamina. They're fantastic at pacing themselves, but he's typically rather relentless unless an easier target presents itself. Trying to keep his attention on purpose on top of that? A perfect recipe for disaster, as they slam their shoulder into a corner, the momentum turning them to face him head on!- ??? A gunshot from nowhere. The unmistakable sound of a sword connecting with it's target. Maybe it was right, these people would protect her when needed. For now they've got bigger problems to deal with, hurrying off to look for a method to get themselves patched up. He won't give up on coming after her for long, and she knows it. @phos-saken (hope you wanted to FUCKING READ.)

A fun round, this one was. Plenty of resistance to push through. The familiar hum and ding of his abilities, the reveal of where people were… That new face. No one else was that tall. Had such a distinct look. And no one else on this particular team was quite so fresh. Easy pickings?

The hunt was on.

John roars as he’s stunned, and hit once more, seemingly for good measure. But it doesn’t matter. There’s someone that is far more interesting to take after. With a burst of speed, he’s off after her without faltering. Those pesky sentinels couldn’t get in the way on the other side of the arena.

Well, she has what she wants. John’s undivided attention, as he charges after her, rather consistently barely missing his swings. He growls at her as he misses another swing, mad enough to drop the chase to slam his arm into the ground, aiming to hit her with a wall of familiar spikes.

Whatever they’re planning, this better be worth it.

[a-forsaken-memory]

John’s gaze drifts over the other, sizing him up. He hadn’t faced this one in a round- or maybe he had, and he simply hadn’t noticed? That was entirely plausible, given…

He tilts his head to the side, watching for his reaction to him. The more he stares at Apollo, the more interesting he looks. Was it a parasite? Symbiotic, perhaps? It almost reminded him of his own. That alone is cause for a proper pause, not that it’s obvious that’s the case.

“Y̶o̴u̷ ̵c̸o̶u̶l̶d̸ ̶g̴e̶t̷ ̸y̴o̷u̴r̶s̴e̵l̶f̴ ̶k̴i̸l̷l̴e̴d̴,̵ ̵w̸a̴n̴d̶e̵r̶i̵n̷g̷ ̸l̸i̷k̷e̷ ̴t̴h̷i̶s̵.̷”

That… is a genuine warning. I think. Probably.

> [ The crunch of leaves underfoot, unbalanced steps, and quiet personal musings fill the otherwise silent air. A walk is good, especially if he wants to get used to this whole one arm thing. At least it had been pretty uneventful, stars know he needs it. ]

@wires-for-veins UM EHEEM HII HI))

A quiet night… A hard thing to come by here. Especially with the hell of rounds. For once, even John was off for a walk of his own, pleased in even a sliver of false freedom. He sees movement, and immediately he drops from ‘fully lost in thought’ to ‘I need to keep a very close eye on what’s going on’. He moves deliberately, watching from afar. His growling breaths are quiet, but still carry some on the wind, if one listens close enough.

After a few minutes of this, he makes himself known, purposefully crushing a few stray twigs beneath his feet as he walks into view, almost unnervingly nonhostile.

“N̷o̷w̶ what d̸o̵ ̴w̴e̵ ̷h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̵h̴e̸r̸e̴…̵?̶”

He asks, voice low. It sounds genuine, but also borders on being a threat.