Re: My Body's Limit (VenomousNinja)
OoC: Sorry if this post seems a little weird. To be honest, you threw me for a loop with your last one. I guess I just didn’t imagine how many different ways the character could be looked at. Oh well, at least I’m getting a chance to write a bout someone who’s fighting whilst on fire.
BiC: Some how, some way, the flames that suddenly leapt upon the walking mask’s body did not melt him down into a puddle of goo the second they engulfed him. Knowing his own limitations, he thought that he was liquid the moment he felt the deep orange reaction strike at his body. But he did not, in fact, melt like he had imagined. It was the worst pain he had ever felt, but he was merely on fire.
And so, they had given him something of an advantage. Now, not only were they were facing, in Black Shisho’s opinion, the most dangerous man that walked the planet, but he was also on fire. Had his hands been a part of him that was on fire, the older boy would have been dead. Unfortunately, the delay left him open to the younger’s attack.
As his innards disintegrated, and his chest cavity swelled, he learned a worse pain than being on fire. That was being inflated by dark magic. His mind blanked from the pain, leaving only the abominable thoughts of the torture in his head. He could only kneel where he was, still burning, letting his insides regenerate. As he filled back in, he regained his sight. He regained it just in time to watch a fireball engulf him.
The walking mask was blown backwards, crashing right into the younger brother, who had fallen to the ground from exhaustion. The younger did, in fact, scream in pain as the body sprawled over him. One, it was on fire, and two, the black slime that leaked from the sizable hole blown through him had been heated to a temperature that scalded the skin.
After crawling out from under man, the younger boy joined the side of the older. Together, they watched the flames on the body gradually change color from orange to purple. The viscous substance that leaked from him produced a different colored flame than his skin did. Gradually, the flames burned away all of the loose slime, turning back to an orange color.
When there were no purple flames left, Black Shisho sat up. His regeneration was complete. After shakily observing the flames that still clung to his skin, he stuttered the phrase, “What am I made of?” He said only that before returning to his feet. That combination of inflation and a fireball had taken almost every ounce of strength he had to give. He could afford NO more hits from his opponents, lest he die.
He said nothing after that. The hatred that he had so quickly developed for those two people burned just as furiously as his body currently did. No more fooling around for the mask that walked like a man. He prepared his limbs for full strength distribution. With every ounce of strength in each individual moment, there was no doubt in his mind that he could trounce the little cads.