Fire Is Hot

[Kris Diamond]

Take One; Kris Diamond

Scenic.

The forest was laid out before him. Standing atop a boulder reaching out from the ground, Kris was able to take in the beauty of the location. Moss grew on trees, plenty of vines, and a struggling stream trickled across the unforgiving ground. Here was the ultimate struggle, a battle that had lasted many years and would continue even when Kris was long since departed. Taking in a deep breath his eyes closed slowly as he felt the warm humidity fill his lungs.

"Now, I'm not one to complain brother..."

Brother. Erik Diamond. The only other Diamond still alive. Kris had been drawn to this location by his brother. Now, it seemed, the two were lost. Although Erik had explained in great detail their purpose here, Kris' mind had been elsewhere. Bending down close to the stream, he paused for just a moment. They'd been in a bar... talking...

And the girl had giggled.

Kris cupped a handful of water and splashed his face. It helped the immediate heat. But then, as humidity was moisture, the water on his face only became miserable to feel. Removing his shirt, he wiped off his visage and slung the now wet clothing article over his shoulder.

"But we're lost."

Standing up, he popped the joints in his spine. There was a moment of pain, and then a wave of relief washed over and drew out a sigh from his lips. "Remind me again why I'm here instead of in bed with that brunette."

[Erik Diamond]

How infuriating. Erik had always wondered why he had the great misfortune to end up with Kris as a brother. The man was endearing enough, in his own way, but he was so. Very. Simple minded. At least, he was in most of the ways that mattered. Take this, for instance. He had deliberately ignored Erik when he had calmly and rationally explained things, and now he was merely reaping what he had sown: confusion and misery.

"Actually, judging by what you just said, you are precisely one to complain. And what have I told you of the random brunettes? It never ends well, you know. Always the burning and the late night trips to the healer to stop the swelling. You'd think you'd have learned your lesson by now, brother."

Erik paused a moment and looked around. To his right, he saw a tree that he was fairly certain he'd seen at least three times now. And come to think of it, the stream was a bit familiar, too. Luckily, his brother was too inattentive to notice the details, so he could only make the general statement that they were 'lost.' It would not have gone well if he'd tried to rub in just how lost they were. Erik sighed, restrained a curse from slipping out of his lips, and then sat down next to the stream for a small break. His legs were getting a little tired, to be honest, since he had never been as good a shape as his brother. Not to say he was weak, of course, just that his brother was much better suited to these long treks.

"All right, you whiny brat of a brother. We can take a quick break for you since you think we're lost or whatever. Maybe it'll let you collect your senses or something so you can see that we're very much not lost at the moment," Erik said, sounding as commanding as he could in the face of the humidity and the situation. Even in spite of his imperious tone, though, there were hints of affection. He knew his brother was smart enough to see through this ruse at least, and it was more of a teasing thing at this point. He may have been miserably stupid, but he was family.

"As for why we're here... just sit and wait. If I can't find what I came for, I'm sure it'll find us. Fate has a way of working like that, you know?" Laying himself out on the ground, Erik idly looked up at the mass of tree branches overhead. Failing all else, he could pass the time as relaxed as possible- although the spongy moss he was using to cushion his head was somehow not as comforting as he thought it would be. He made as much a shrug as he could from his prone position, as if to indicate a sort of 'whatever' attitude to the whole affair. He trusted his brother would be doing something suitably mundane like hitting trees or kicking boulders by now.

"Yep, just sit and wait... sit and wait..."

[Oedipus K.]

Whoever said leather breathed in humidity should have bamboo splinters shoved in their nails and eyes.

As the flaming wreckage that had once been a proud lion completed its leap—crumbling into charred meat and ashes as it hit the ground—Oedipus silently cursed himself for wearing leather in the jungle. As awesome and hot as he looked, he could barely feel his skin, he was sweating so much. His silver hair clung to his forehead in glistening clumps and he moved with a sloth-like audacity that only comes from traveling for hours in a humid wasteland.

How and when he got here didn’t mean as much as how he was going to get the hell out anymore. They were thoughts that people who didn't wear leather in a jungle and people who weren't assaulted by noseeums and other insects of displeasure.

As the cackling and soft sputtering of the fire feasting on the lion's carcass died down, Oedipus thought he heard something faint--something so soft that it screamed in his ears: water. Glorious hydrogen and oxygen!

Bringing himself from his crouched position, he stumbled wearily towards the sound. Batting away at insects and tree underbrush, he could hear the wonderful sound of the water babbling incoherently to its surroundings. His feet almost got lost under themselves a few times and he had to stop to catch his breath once or twice, but in under ten minutes he found himself face-to-face with the stream of his dreams.

He kneeled down before it and dunked his head in, basking in the cool aura. While underwater, he gulped many mouthfuls of the water, unmindful of whatever waste there might be in it.

Oedipus brought his head up, preparing to take his clothes off and bathe in the stream, and saw two others across the way. They were on the other side of the stream and he felt something odd about them.

But what?

"Who goes?"

[Kris Diamond]

"Can't think of a decent excuse so you pretend that I'm the only one turned around backward?" Kris grinned. His brother and he always had their brotherly banter. Not that Kris had ever beaten his brother, but that didn't prevent him from trying. Eric had sat himself down. Tired, or at least keeping himself from getting there. One of Kris' advantages on his brother.

Whilst Erik rested, Kris decided to take a look around. Moving to one of the large knarled trees, he grabbed a limb and hoisted himself upward. Crawling up on the branch, he reached upward for the next tree limb. Rather than pulling himself up, though, Kris grabbed a handhold and leapt upward. Using the handhold to keep his aim true, his two feet lifted above the wooden perch, then came down perfectly. Standing up full, he looked upward at the next branch, a few feet over his head. Jumping up, he caught the branch in his fingertips. Moving his legs back and forth, he gained momentum in a swing, and was able to swing full circle and put himself atop the branch.

Secure in the height, he looked around in all directions. Nothing but forest as far as his eye could see. Except, down from back where he and Erik had been not long ago, another adventurer was wandering towards them. Launching himself backward off the branch, Kris fell towards the ground. At the last instance, he did a backflip and landed on the soft moss. The impact still too much, he flipped backward to his hands, and then sprung back to his feet. "We've got company." Without waiting for his brother, Kris began to walk towards the oncoming stranger. One foot fell in the water when the feeling struck him.

Something wasn't right.

Far from it. Something was fatally wrong.

There was only a moment's hesitation, and then Kris realized what was so wrong. It hit him like an oncoming truck the very problem that he was now confronted with. This man, the one who was in the forest with them, was no ordinary man. He was a special man, of a special blood.

Kusanagi.

Rage consumed him. Without even pausing to see if his brother was with nearby, he charged forward. Dashing towards his opponent he intended to start offensive, and keep the momentum of the battle in his favor. As he closed the distance, his right hand pushed outward. Curling his fingers into a fist, he aimed for the Kusanagi's chest.

[Kiz]

She hefted the long knife at her side, glancing back over her shoulder at the trail of broken stems and shredded leaves she'd left in her wake. It appeared as though a large animal had lowered its nose and plowed through miles of the undergrowth. Amusement, or maybe something more akin to pride lighted like a candle in the dark within the deep hazel-green of her irises, making the gold flecks dance in the sunbeams dotted on her figure. Insects glittered in the slanting beams, diving to and fro through a golden ocean, multi-colored wings flapping furiously in the still air. What she found most interesting were the flowers dotting the side of each tree, each stem bursting forth its seed of color.

Kiz was by no means a girly-girl; her shredded top with the canteen hanging loosely across it and slanted khakis told enough of that- but on the belt surrounding her bony hips were hanging seven knives, to be exact. Seven. Long, curved, scimitar-like knives that gleamed every time she moved. That shirt hung off of her shoulders with enough modesty to completely cover her chest and half of her stomach, but the rest of her torso was a golden brown: the small of her back was painted with gypsy-runes.

She cocked her head to the side, knife making a shimmering diagonal in front of her to chop down a vine obscuring her vision. The babbling of a small stream had caught her attention. It would do her well to find some water and cool herself off before resuming her hunt for Diamond. Booted feet barely made a sound on the fresh shoots of ferns and she edged closer to the water, kneeling down before it to simply observe. Her reflection was never something that pleased her, though it did a nice job pleasing others. She rather hated the way she smiled through windburnt pink lips and she never liked the loose tufts of hair hanging just over her eyes. Hurriedly, she flicked them away with one hand while the other dipped into the stream, bringing a mouthful of water to her lips. They parted and she gently blew onto the liquid, suddenly feeling a deep chill as ice crystals began to form along her arms and gathered on her fingertips in the form of icicles.

"Who goes?"

Her head jerked up, eyes wide and water forgotten. The long brunette braid swung behind her in a graceful arc and that slender form straightened up like a marionette upon its strings. The knife was once more glistening in her hand, now covered in ice. It was apparent that the voice had not been directed towards her, since sound was now eminating from the opposite direction, but it was still something for her to check out. Like a sleek leopard, she crept towards the lowhanging branches obscuring her view and gently moved them aside. Those eyes lined in kohl merely narrowed as she saw a very, VERY familiar sight and her heart flitted in her chest airily. Kris. She shook her head, clicking her tongue in the manner that only a gypsy does. There he was, still playing games that had been long abandoned in grade school.

She swept her knife in that dazzling array again, stepping forward to make her presence quite known, eyes flashing dangerously. "What the hell?!"

[Oedipus K.]

Oedipus had a complex—one not accompanied with his namesake, har-har—and, when you thought about it, it fit (considering the furnace built behind his eyes): he saw the world in heat signatures. How his normal vision became scarred beyond normal sight is lost beyond the annexes of time, but he proposed the romantic notion that he lost it in battle. Whether this is true or not, is lost forever within some sentient mist that house all the forgotten memories in existence.

What he saw now was purple.

Orochi. Vast signatures of it, floating along the ground and trees, not so much from the actual interaction with the rival flame, but from the smell of it—the reek of it. Behind the Kusanagi was a field of orange, which would linger for a while and soon be swallowed by the thousands of other smells. But, for now, the path behind him reeked of Kusanagi.

The path before him reeked of Diamonds and the Orochi.

The first Diamond ran towards him and threw a punch. Quite unceremonious of him, if the truth were to be told. A blazon flash of fire and a solemn yet spine-chilling quote would satisfy the romantic in Oedipus. But, as one who fought found out, that usually never happened. Oh, sure, he found himself up, late at night, considering lines to use when executing a flaming ballet into the opponent’s cranium, but he didn’t well expect others to do it.

But, still, it would be nice.

Bright orange and red flames ushered forth from the uncomfortable leather and engulfed the Kusanagi-proof fabric around both of his hands. Steam billowed, coming from the once wet cloth in great gasps of breath. Oedipus brought both of his hands up and closed all his fingers together. Now erect and with two hands on fire, he stepped forward and shot both hands out to intercept the oncoming fist. Somewhere close, a new voice shot forth. It was lost within the heat signatures.

When and if the fist came to rest on Oedipus’s outstretched hands, they would clamp on the hand and run with it, while the man turned his body ever towards the left, until his back would be facing the Diamond. At this point, his elbow, which had been held high at this point, would come crashing down with the precision attained after years of fighting. Right on Diamond’s elbow, with enough force to break it.

[Fate Ormoriam]

Forming beneath the trampled,moist soil was that of a large clot. That clot slowly growing,and from it sprouted forth the gravedirt,mud drenched,blood coated hand of the plague bearer,slowly being purged forth from the earth,the dirt in which the zombie was put to rest. Sickening twists and tormented howls were the only thing heard to emit from this sunken,almost mudtrap like pit in the ground. The unfortunant trees surrounding were easily uprooted from the force of what seemed to be the planet itself expelling the toxins and cold death from its slumber. Almost seeming to weep forth from every pore being the solomn stench of decomposition. Tearing and clawing forth at the loosened ground surrounding,the creature slowly pulled its way to the surface,the mud caked,blood drenched locks,to the unobservant eye almost seeming to resemble a nest of rats and insects,For the creatures living in the body of the beast could easily be seen crawling beneath the wrecked flesh and within the matted locks of his facial,and head hair. The sunken back,almost eyeless sockets of the creature seemed to pulsate with infection and disease. Drooling forth from the gaping jaw of the creature were torrents of blood and saliva,mixed with numerous bacterias and small,carcass dwelling insects. Raising high atop his throne of betrayal the arms of the gargantuan creature,who stood highly at the height of 7'8,out stretching,several,small cuts along the flesh of his shoulders,arms,and chest begining to open awide and flow freely once more with the plagued blood that layed dorment within the withered veins of the beast for ages. Ear shattering whails emitted throughout the forest for miles,those crys being those of the souls condemned to wander the earth for all eternity,damned by the blade of the beast in which was left to lay waste to them so long ago. Women,Children,Men,Infants even..All fell to the creatures sick will. Wandering forth now,the creature trudged,The crushing of bone,reeking,dead,Decaying flesh,Many things of the creatures normal nature continued to occur all throughout the walk,dragging a foot at first,then the other,slowly regaining the only thing he had left to attain,His will to destroy. Along the way this creature left its mark,dragging its nails along the bark of the trees along the path in which he had taken,causing a slow,and extremely ugly demise to the forests greenary,Easily seen from the viewpoint of the others who had found their way into this forest.



Alas....With cold death at my fingertips..and hatred running down my spine..God i ride my six legged horse forward into the depths...The stygian world from whence i was spit is beckoning forth a change..The sickness is growing...


His nearly completely sunken back,almost stain glass like hues stared forth to the men.In his path he left but desolation. The trees and plants having withered from either the stench of the walking corpse,or the poison he had left to seep within the bark and destroy it from the inside out.Speaking to himself the beast began mumbling,at first in tongues,though slowly the words came easier,forming sentences,finally speaking with ease,exhaling clouds of dust with each word he uttered. With each word spoken,were they accompinied by dozens of almost female,shrill,banshee like whails,Leaving only a whisper to echo about through the gusts of wind.


Meal Ticket..

[Kris Diamond]

There was on questioning. There was no backing down or trying to quell the rage. Returning Kris' intent with his own, the Kusanagi summoned his flame to his hand. Rage was a powerful asset, and the immeasurable hatred he felt merely by seeing a living Kusanagi was enough to blind him with fury. His enemy outstreched two flaming hands. Kris could feel the Orochi trying to surface and extinguish the Kusanagi flame.

Kris let go of the leash.

Bursting forth from his hand was the purple fire. It stretched out, the whisps trying with all their power to reach their enemy, the Kusanagi flame. The two warriors were close. Kris couldn't allow the Kusanagi to catch his fist, as he was readying to do.

"What the hell?"

"?!" A voice calling him back to a time long ago. The siren's echo falling softly upon his ears. His head turned to the source of the voice and he saw her. Strange... at the time he didn't remember feeling such attachment.

Which is right when he felt the Kusanagi catch his hand.

Slow motion, and yet he couldn't react. The Kusanagi pulled him around like a toy. Drew his arm into the air and paused. Kris acted instantly, and pushed his foot from the ground. Although he had no control, and definately had no direction, the move would throw his body forward and thus prevent his enemy from breaking his elbow.

Rather, the elbow now slammed into Kris' expose back.

He hit the ground. Hard. Slamming into the muddy ground, Kris lost his breath for a moment. The Orochi dissipated. Acting hopefully before the Kusanagi could take advantage of his positioning, Kris tumbled forward and sprinted away a short distance. Checking over his shoulder, he stopped and skidded an inch through the moist ground.

And although the Orochi drew him towards the Kusanagi, his gaze shifted rather towards the girl. "The bloody fawk are you doing here!?"

[.Isaac.]

Throwing axes. A lot of throwing axes.

He was being chased. Chased by orcs. Orsc who wouldn't thinktwice of killing him. Maybe he shouldn't have stolen that stone. It was just a rock, a red rock. So what if it had magical properties? Isaac didn't care. All he knew is that he could eat, drink and party for three weeks with its reward.

Isaac's figure leaped from the indiscrete foliage of the forest, the usual glaive slung over his shoulder as he does when he runs. A couple of axes were flying almost parallel to him before sticking into the trees beside him.

He noticed the woman taking a rest near the creek bed. With a loud thud, Isaac landed a few feet away from here.

"Hey. How're ya?"

From his jovial expression, one could not guess that he was being chased by scores of orcs. He brought two fingers to the side forehead to salute the girl.

An axe came hurling from the underbrush and Isaac ducked under it. The loud and savage cries of the orcs could be heard now.

"Yeah, I gotta go. I'll see ya around?"

Isaac didn't wait for an answer. He didn't want to be dinner for a legion of orcs.

Another axe. This one was a little bit more accurate and planted itself into the ground where Isaac was kneeling. He began running away from the woman, along side the creek bed.

The orcs finally emerged from the trees and chased after Isaac. Their muscles were flared . Their eyes were red with rage. Their mouths were wet with drool.

Isaac had to hand it to the orcs. They were quite resilient. They've been chasing him close to 2 hours now. The man didn't want to engange the orcs just yet, because he was greatly outnumbered, not that that mattered. He just wanted people to see him in action. Especially women.