So I heard you're some kind of fighter? Kahaha, I find that hard to believe since you're so small for a human! Still, if what I heard is true then you've must had had some good scraps. What's the worst injury you've ever received? It needn't be from a fight since I know most your kind are fragile critters.
Hey! Who are you calling small?! I’m not that short and I’ll have you know I’m a growing boy! I won’t be this height forever, and I’ll get taller eventually!
I’m not fragile either! I’m a real fighter! A boxer to be exact! Boxing’s an awesome sport where you fight in a ring with boxing gloves, and I’m one of the best fighters around! Yeah! One of the best on my home, Kattelox Island in fact! As for your question, I can think of a couple instances in which I’ve gotten my worst injuries.
As you can see on the left, there was one time I took a real beating in one of my more intense fights. Me and this other kid really went at it for a while, and I got a bunch of bruises and two black eyes to show for it! Might even have had a bruised rib or something, since my side was a little sore too. It really hurt after that one. I’ve also been banged up a bit doing my other favorite hobby, jet skating! Been quite a few times that I’ve crashed into things, even though I always wear a helmet! The worst crash was when I took a tumble down a hill and ran into a bunch of bushes! That was NOT a soft landing and I even broke my left arm too! Ouch! That’s me with the cast I got too! Even tore up my clothes a bit too with all the branches and stuff. I was lucky that I wasn’t hurt worse.
So yeah, those are some of the worst injuries I’ve had so far! Between boxing and running into stuff while skating I do get bumped around a bit I’ll admit! Heh! I’m so hyper I sometimes get ahead of myself and it’s not always pretty, which can drive my friends and family a little crazy.
(OOC: Thanks for the Ask! Pardon the delay in answering. Was busy with classwork and catching up then the Thanksgiving holiday with friends and family. But I finally finished up the doodle. Wanted to try a split scene as a two for one for a change of pace. And also labeled the cast in case it’s not obvious the right side. Jumpy has indeed been through his fair share of rough patches, not too surprising for somebody so energetic and impulsive! lol )
YIAN GARUGA! The most feared Bird Wyvern! Rajang never go extinct as long as he keep moving and beating up any hunters foolish enough to fight him! Rajang does use tools with his hands, not just boulders and giant bones lying around area. RAJANG EVEN PLAY GUITAR!! (not very good, but STILL AWESOME!). YOU CAN BE LEAD SINGER IN THE BAND! ARUUU!
Yes, Rajang love thunder storms, he like to go where they are to ABSORB SOME THUNDER POWER TO KEEP HIS HAIR PRETTY AND SPARKLY! Some humans even say thunderstorms go wherever Rajang goes, and that is a bit true since where there are thunderstorms, THERE ARE DELICIOUS THUNDER HORSES!
Rajang does have some hobbies, like rocking out and sometimes going to visit some monsters on Rajang's do-not-attack list. He also like to work out inside his cave and play Jenga (even if he always break the table)!
4. Belial, being a monster infamous for his bloodlust, would be expected to have gotten into many grand battles and have taken many physical mementos of those battles. Strangely enough, however, his body is relatively unmarred by any notable scars. In fact, only two fairly superficial scars can be noted throughout his body. One is a chest wound - a slightly darker area of his red body - that he sustained when Akumu charged tusk-first towards him during their first encounter. The other is a very chipped back spike towards the beginning of his tail, which he gained long ago after a Dire Miralis decided to slam its entire body on the Fatalis during a violent battle. Though Belial won that battle, he still holds a rather petty dislike for Dire Miralises in general.
15. Lao-Shan-Lungs are surprisingly VERY tasty when well-cooked. Unfortunately, they’re so rare that Belial does not often encounter them, and when he does, they often flee with such vigor Belial has to put up more of an effort to kill the creatures than he puts for other monsters. Still, the sweet taste of a Heavenly Lao-Shan Scale oft makes the effort quite worth it.
31. Hidden deep within a crevice in one of the cliffs of the Snowy Mountains lies an aged collection of archaic books and scrolls. Though no evidence exists to definitively tie the Crimson Fatalis with this massive archives of classic books - comedies, tragedies, encyclopedias, etc. - there have been some sightings of a large, crimson beast relaxing in that cold domain. This beast has been jokingly referred to by the very few who see it as, ‘The Duke’. Any attempts to take an item from this collection inevitably ends with a the discovery of a charred corpse whose possessions are missing.
((Thank you so much for replying to my questions, particularly the history of each character in such depth! I apologize for making such a request, but it is great to know more about each of the three in greater detail and understand them better!))
(( Hey no need to appologise, I enjoy writing about my characters actually. :) Gives me a chance to show if I can properly describe their life. I'm glad that I was able to write it well. :D ))
Armored boots stomped the earth, and weapon-clad hands poked the skies. The combined forces of hunters, soldiers, and famed war generals had emerged to form a myriad that suffocated the barren wasteland that was once a fecund field of fauna and flora.
That was, until the arrival of the black wings of fate.
In time immemorial, the crimson epitome of calamity known as Belial was once unmarred by the hellish inferno of the volcano. His obsidian scales once absorbed all glimmer of light, leaving only an enigmatic abyss; his horns - symbols of pure power - were once symmetrical but short. However, even in his youth, Belial dispersed trepidation, hatred, and despair in his bitter pursuit of pandemonium. This once serene field was but a victim of his destruction; so too, was this army comprised of victims - direct or indirect - of this dragon’s hatred. Former enemies made peace to conquer this ultimate enemy, and once rapacious warriors set aside gold to protect everyone from this beast.
As for the beast? He gazed at this approaching army and simply…smiled. “Can you see this, Ezraeil?" Belial mused, arching his head to face the darkened heavens. "As with all things, it seems you are right once again. The other creatures will challenge me with all their might, for I am death, and they are fools. How many will flee and abandon their friends to my wrath? How many will stand, confident in their morals and strength, only to be slain? I, thanks to your auspices, have the one thing that will bring my victory and their eradication: power. My victory shall show this wretched world the truth of your great wisdom!”
The sounds of music covered the ominous area: primal war drums increased the fury of the indignant warriors; refined ritual chanting soothed the hearts of the terrified; boisterous battle tunes expanded the confidence of the generals. Eventually, the music diminished in volume as a speech could be heard being recited. Belial’s eyes watched as one figure - the leader, it seemed, as he was clad in magnificent armor - took precedence in the groups and spoke in a now long forgotten language.
"We stand together! Not as enemies, not as hunters, but as guardians. For too long, this monster has plagued these lands with a hatred unrivaled. While children cry as their parents are slaughtered by callous flames, while nature suffers and decays into oblivion, while hope is almost consumed by a vortex of despondency and resignation, this beast only smiles, content in believing our spirits are broken. But this is when the beast reveals he knows nothing, for our bodies may die, our legacies may disappear, but our spirits will always be reaching for the great heavens! Our cause will see us through, for the virtuous are blessed by nature to succeed! So I ask, brothers of arms: let us be one, so that the future generations may know compassion, valor, and hope!"
Belial chuckled at these platitudes: how he heard the same vapid rhetoric be utterly destroyed by his master, and how he already knew just what to do to destroy this bravado again. These fools would learn the truth of nature with their lives.
And so, the ultimate army charged at the command of their leader, and the ultimate dragon soared at the command of his master. The words of Belial’s master still rung so vibrantly in his head as they did when he first heard that stolid, utterly omnipresent voice:
“The first step of warfare: destroy the support, so that the entire structure collapse on itself," and so it was done. No healers would be present to heal the wounds made by the Fatalis. The flames of hell silenced the war drums. Terror consumed the hearts of many hunters, and they fled to be exterminated on a later date.
“Secondly, erase the presence of any long range attacks, so that no option exists that would not benefit you," and so it was done. The frantic attempts to shoot arrows and cannons at the Fatalis would not save the distance opponents as the Fatalis closed their advantage. Religious hymns degenerated into pathetic pleas of mercy and bone-chilling, incoherent screaming. Hatred corrupted the minds of the soldiers, and they fought among themselves and died blaming their allies for this hell.
“Thirdly, end those who must come in close to damage you, so that the blood may soak your body," and so it was done. The warriors proved skillful in their hammers, swords, and lances, but none could stand against the flames hotter than the sun and the strength greater than the mountains that belonged to the Fatalis. Unnatural silence replaced the enthusiastic battle cries of the army. Despair destroyed the hope of the war generals, and they stood acquiescently as the black dragon killed the hollow shells of failed generals one by one.
In what seemed like a torturous eternity, the once impressive army was reduced to shambles. Thousands of dead bodies littered the earth, and the repugnant stench of burning flesh permeated the battlefield. Belial stood triumphant, but his work was not done yet, as a single being still fought with a vigor that almost seemed desperate. The magnificently clad leader had somehow been spared the horror that had been wrought, and wielding his pristine great sword, he rushed towards the dragon with a speed unlike any of the corpses that marked the ground. But matching the leader’s speed with his own haste, Belial did something unexpected: he shoved the commander into the ground with his lofty tail, quickly wrapped his tail around the commander’s great sword as it fell out of his hand, and grabbed it.
The leader stared incredulously as his mighty sword laid in the possession of the demon who had knocked him down helplessly to the ground. Belial waved the sword in front of the human, as if to mock him. What had this leader’s bravado brought about? Nothing but failure, death, and revealed hypocrisy. The leader began to frantically search for a replacement weapon, but suddenly his efforts ceased; an…unearthly gaze bore into his soul, he felt. He glanced at the dragon, and saw the eyes of the devil stare directly at him. The glare did not seem to have any fury or joy: it seemed foreign, bereft of emotions but promulgating a message. No words were uttered - dreadful silence marked that moment of eternity. Both beings just gazed at each other, one sending out a message, and the other somberly accepting it.
Belial, confident he now knew what filled the once idealistic leader’s mind, eventually stopped his lesson and took flight. He ignored the physical decimation he had caused, for his mind was invested in the ultimate of victories.
His master would be pleased at this. Too often do mortals forget that complete destruction is not the kind of the material world: it was the kind of the spiritual, emotional, and mental world.
The last sight Belial caught of the wasteland was of the magnificently clad leader. His armor was still impeccable, as was his sword now lying on the ground, but Belial knew the leader’s perfection was nothing more than a cruel effigy now. The leader stood, distant and apathetic towards the ubiquitous death around him. Nothing had been lost to him, for nothing existed to begin with. He had seen the world through Belial…and it was a dark abyss. Nothing more.
((OOC: Wow, I went overboard here…I dunno, the idea came to me, and I just had to write. I hope this enlightens you a bit about Belial and what makes him tick. Sorry if the writing is a bit slipshod :C!!))
All senses screamed out in pain. A mind which had been overcome with rage was now drenched in fear.
Was this it? Was this the end?
No. I will live. I would much rather lose my pride than my life.
The Elder Dragon known as Amatsumagatsuchi rose up into the sky, her wind aura carrying her as if she was about to attack the hunters with her final powerful beams of water. They braced themselves, watching her carefully to see where her snout pointed.
Instead, she turned away from them, and quickly ascended into the storm she had created. She was too high up for them to pull her back down with ballista binders. Bullets from the two bowgunners nipped at her fins, but she ignored them. They could do nothing to reach her as she flew away, taking the storm with her.
((Thank you so much for answeing, and with such a well-written response at that too! Zorod is a fascinating character and this little memory was most enjoyable to read!))
Descending from the skies, the One-Eared Yian Garuga known as Charon landed heavily before Flagg and glared down at the hunter before him with his single good eye. Raising a tremendous hind leg, the Bird Wyvern did not attack - but instead slapped a clawful of dung into the human's outstretched hands. "Enjoy," Charon croaked, before cackling aloud at the foul 'gift' he'd pressed upon the unfortunate Flagg. ((Sorry! I like you, just this seems like something Charon would do, foul thing he is!))
Flagg shakes his head and smiles as he looks at the pile of dung in his hand and fishes a bomb casing from his bag. As he makes them into a dung bomb he tells the Yian Garuga, “I’ll make sure this goes into the face of the next Deviljho to pin me down. So thanks for saving my life. I’ll pay you back later.” He then walks off, muttering something about the nearest stream.
((It’s fine. Flagg takes pretty much anything in good humor.))
