Ame-Chan
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Joined: 06 Sep 2007
Posts: 163
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 Posted: Sat Sep 29, 2007 4:00 pm Post subject: Walk the Moonlit Path (Shiranui VS Killiak) |
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I hope my coloring and stuff works out. 
I manually copied, lol.
| Shiranui wrote: | | The full moon had arisen, lighting his way, the night was his dominion, the desendant of a God lost to the modern world, those who challenged him, were met with an unworldly, and unwavering skill, the fruit of years of dedicated training which has still yet to be perfected, those who knew him, expected such and were readily equipped with weapon and know how, those who didn't, were effortlessly cut down by the blistering speed of his weapon of old, a weapon that had existed since the creation of the world, the weapon of the Great God of the Moon Shiranui, the blades true name now long forgotten with the scriptures which told the tale of the origin of his existance, yet had not forgotten it's beyond razor sharp edge, nor it's prestine condition. The man walked through the towns deserted streets, eager to find his way to the ancient world forgotten by the modernisation of man, eager to remember his past lives, a hollow man, who'd abandoned all emotions at the of one he'd once loved. He now seeks to find his true power and revive her once more. He walked, dressed in a black trenchcoat, his dark brown hair swayed not, for there was no wind to so much as shift but a blade of grass, his trenchcoat bore the mark of his beloved ancestor, the cresent moon. His baggy, material like pants were tucked into boots of the same black color, as was the undershirt which he wore under the trenchcoat, in his right hand, a jet black sheath of a katana, down the entire sheath was various symbols written in a primitive kanji, a prayer for the moon, carved in by a dedicated sword smith before daring to present the masterwork blade as an offering to the Great God of the Night. On and on, the man walked tirelessly, feeling at home in the cold dark night, the moon lighting his way as always, on and on he would follow the moon's guiding glow to the ends of the Earth to be reunited with the one he'd loved in one hundred lives, the woman who'd govern all that was shrouded in light and warmth, the Great Goddess of the Sun, and life itself, Amateratsu. The man continued to walk, he looked down at his hand, clenching it slowly, before opening it once more, a memory flashed through his head, the silver of swords dancing in the rain, and grey. He then slowly placed his hand on his side, and yet again, a memory flashed through his mind. The silver of steel piercing his tan flesh, a crimson mixing with the puddle of water beneath him, swirling hypnoticaly as it mixed and flowed away. The man looked back up, pressing on with the same determination he had before these memories surfaced themselves. A memory flashed once more, a scream of a woman, her golden hair flowing etheraly, as she came to him, followed by a thud, as his knees hit the ground, unable to speak, unable to breath, he looked at the one who'd done the impossible, looking into the eyes of his opponent with burned brightly with content and hatred. His raspy, snake-like voice rang through his ears, mixing with the screams of the golden haired woman. "It seems as though even the Gods are not impervious to such hatred.....Amateratsu....you too shall fall to my burning hatred....I will have your soul in exchange for imprisoning mine for so many centuries...." The man felt a sudden warmth against his body, then added droplets of water, unlike taht which fell from the sky, for it was warm, staining his trenchcoat a brilliant, glowing gold. He looked only at the being that stood infront of him, unable to so much as utter a word of comfort to the woman crying beside of him. The man shook his head suddenly, coming back to, his eyes refocusing on the empty streets ahead. his forsaken emotions scratching, clawing at the barrier he bound them in, untill finally he shook them off, yet the attempt was in vain, for one last emory entered his mind, the memory that plagued him most. The man reached his hand toward the woman, her ethreal, beautiful golden hair now stained red, as she fell to her knees, just as he had done, a smile on her face as she looked toward him, her mouth opening, only to utter out a slight gasp as her body fell lifelessly to the ground. Again, the man shook his head, again he tried and barely succeeded at keeping his emotions within their bindings, a single thought now echoing in his mind "I will bring her back...." On and on the man walked through the night, on and on, striken with vengance, and determination, on and on. |
| Killiak wrote: | The blood of countless bodies was stained upon those Black Hands, its stench filling the air of all paths he walked. In truth, what this was would be the undeniable aura of death, rather than actual blood. Walking terror, endless genocide. Killiak. Even the Gods have come to know and fear his name in light of the destruction and invulnerability he represents, though there yet remained those who were fortunate to be obliviously unaware of him. The Legendary Slayer was currently seated atop an oddly shaped rock outside of a deserted village, ripe with the stench of death all of its own. Naturally, to keep himself free of trivial annoyances, Killiak was capable of completely masking all traces of his presence in any given world. His "soul" was even lost to his own power, giving him the position of a mere observer at his own leisure.
What had brought him to this place? He knew, but did not care to concern himself heavily with the workings of his insatiable curiosity. It was simply just that--curiosity. Black silk strands cascaded over his powerful, exposed shoulders as his frightening silver-streaked black eyes gleamed up to a full moon. The present ash clouds suddenly vanished, as the dark eyes of Killiak narrowed just slightly. An overwhelming change struck the planet as a whole upon the arrival of another, one with some sort of, what Killiak called, Planetary Alignment. Practically immediately, the Silver Phoenix's chaotic mind screamed in frenzy, thoroughly analyzing everything surrounding him. In short time, his awareness had expanded to a Planetary scale, sensing the deepest chords of the world itself and its moon.
His leg having been curled, black spit-shined boot nestled snugly atop the rock and his powerful arm draped over-top his knee, Killiak let his leg fall and looked into the direction of his guest. His face, ever youthful and sinister with sharp, square-cut chiseled jawlines and high cheek bones giving him the appearance of a man who just looked evil, was completely blank. Despite the fact, his eyes seemed ripe with activity, an invisible churning of powerful forces at work gleaming within the surface of those steely cold orbs...
"Moonwalker...herald...of vengeance..."
Suddenly, the Silver Phoenix's destructive nature showed trace just briefly as his black, silver flecked eyes pulsed with simply "blue".
"Destroy...everything he believes in...ha..ha..hahahaha!"
Without any warning whatsoever, Killiak let his presence be known to the unfortunate victim walking his way (whom had just fallen to his knees). In one fell swoop of a moment, the entire planet flinched beneath the sheer will of power; he had released a spiritual 'force' that he had come to know about as intimately a warrior possibly could, known simply as 'Sakki'; or, the 'Chi of Death'. Considering just who Killiak was, it was understood that he possessed one of overly potent effect. It was seldom witnessed by living creatures, for most that came across it were struck down in its fury. Such was the case today, as Killiak added to his bottomless list of victims in this instantaneous moment. A wicked grin spread through his medium, slightly dark lips, displaying his pearl white teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. The population of the whole world had just been murdered in utterly cold blood, all men, women, and children that did not possess significant will power suffering the effects of a greater power crushing everything they consisted of. Their mind, body, and even their souls had been crushed--though, their souls were done so in slightly different order. Rather than be 'destroyed', which proved difficult to achieve, they had been banished to the realm all lost souls enslaved by Killiak were sent to, the "Nameless Hell'. A place so terrifying, not even 'God' himself would dare approach.
For added effect, the method in which Killiak slaughtered these people left only a massive cloud of Crimson Mist--Blood, soaking the air with its blissful stench. Aside from this slaughtering, the environment, as having been stated the world itself flinched, was paralyzed. Plants no longer produced oxygen, rivers no longer streamed, wind no longer blew. Quite literally, the planet was forced into a Doomsday state, though it would last a period of several days before crumbling ever yet. The beast had been stirred, like a boy poking a ravenous dog with a stick to the point of eruption...
So he rose, standing to his full six-foot-three height, his hair falling back behind his shoulders. He wore a deep gray muscle shirt that fit snugly overtop his wall of muscles, and white baggy pants often worn by martial artists, bearing no significant markings other than a gold trim along the bottom hem. As he stood, Killiak turned in step and walked forth steadily, nothing save for the paralyzing effect of his Sakki being released from his entire being. His mind, whether or not he was Mortal or Immortal--human or alien, nothing about him could be determined, thus creating the true depiction of an Enigma. After all, who was to say he was a mindless murderer, just because he had slaughtered an entire people (for the umpteenth time)...?
No one.
Appearing before the herald of vengeance, Killiak had clasped his hands behind his back, concealing the one dignifying sign of his identity from view, and stood directly in the "man's" path. As the man before him stopped, Killiak's voice cut through the diminishing air (again, it would last several days), his tone ever rough, ever demanding of obedience to most. Of course, Killiak knew this kind--they don't obey anyone, save for their Pathetic Deity....
"You are pathetic...boy. Do you think yourself possessed of True Power?" |
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