My muse is back online, and making up for lost time!
LilFluff: Welcome to the thread! I know I'll be holding onto that image, but I don't know what I'm going to have myself do with it. It'll take at least a decade to happen, though.
As for names, Imma is what the Numbers and doctor call me. Ford is what I call myself out loud. I generally don't use any names in my head; if I did, it'd either be Blue or .
Odd name, I know.
Proginoskes, LilFluff: I've never seen an episode of Darkwing Duck in my life... or even more than five consecutive seconds of it, to be honest. I was, however, rereading UF for about the seventh time when I started writing this.
By Crom, has it really been over two months?!
**********
[Malleus, Magic Missile. 32 shots, single volley.]
[READY.] The familiar circle spun itself into existence in front of me. With a high-pitched whine of power, the space in front of the circle became a wall of blue mana.
I could see the target (or rather, infer its presence) in the sky in front of me. All I had to do was aim at where the orange bolts were coming from. [Distance to target established. Calculate angle, and update all missiles accordingly.]
[UNDERSTOOD.] A beat later, I heard in my mind [READY TO FIRE].
I took the time to smirk viciously. Sayonara, sucker!
On my command, Malleus intoned "ZAUBERRAKETE-"...
... and I finished the phrase. "-FIRE!"
The mass of blue bolts shot up into the sky as one. After a second, one of them, impossibly, dropped out of the group, falling to the ground below. That one was followed by another, and another soon after.
By the time the volley reached its target, over half of it had fallen. Out of what remained, six missiles missed entirely, flying off into the distance. The eight missiles that remained struck their target, splashing against its shield. Instead of dissipating as expected, the splashes of blue mana merged, becoming a rippling bubble of power.
For one long second, nobody moved.
Then the target shifted its staff forward, taking aim at Tre. Its bolt of orange light hit the bubble, popping it like it was made of soap... and sending the enemy inside it rocketing straight down into the ground at great speed. Everybody nearby could feel the WHUMP of it impacting the ground.
Ford stopped in his tracks at the sight of it. What the deuce? That's not supposed to happen. Heck, that's not supposed to be able to happen- I did the math myself! How? Why?Tre's reaction, on the other hand, was eminently more practical. She made a break for it, scooping up Ford as she ran past, back towards the extraction point. Familiar orange beams stabbed into the ground around her as she ran.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
LilFluff: Welcome to the thread! I know I'll be holding onto that image, but I don't know what I'm going to have myself do with it. It'll take at least a decade to happen, though.
As for names, Imma is what the Numbers and doctor call me. Ford is what I call myself out loud. I generally don't use any names in my head; if I did, it'd either be Blue or .
Odd name, I know.
Proginoskes, LilFluff: I've never seen an episode of Darkwing Duck in my life... or even more than five consecutive seconds of it, to be honest. I was, however, rereading UF for about the seventh time when I started writing this.
By Crom, has it really been over two months?!
**********
[Malleus, Magic Missile. 32 shots, single volley.]
[READY.] The familiar circle spun itself into existence in front of me. With a high-pitched whine of power, the space in front of the circle became a wall of blue mana.
I could see the target (or rather, infer its presence) in the sky in front of me. All I had to do was aim at where the orange bolts were coming from. [Distance to target established. Calculate angle, and update all missiles accordingly.]
[UNDERSTOOD.] A beat later, I heard in my mind [READY TO FIRE].
I took the time to smirk viciously. Sayonara, sucker!
On my command, Malleus intoned "ZAUBERRAKETE-"...
... and I finished the phrase. "-FIRE!"
The mass of blue bolts shot up into the sky as one. After a second, one of them, impossibly, dropped out of the group, falling to the ground below. That one was followed by another, and another soon after.
By the time the volley reached its target, over half of it had fallen. Out of what remained, six missiles missed entirely, flying off into the distance. The eight missiles that remained struck their target, splashing against its shield. Instead of dissipating as expected, the splashes of blue mana merged, becoming a rippling bubble of power.
For one long second, nobody moved.
Then the target shifted its staff forward, taking aim at Tre. Its bolt of orange light hit the bubble, popping it like it was made of soap... and sending the enemy inside it rocketing straight down into the ground at great speed. Everybody nearby could feel the WHUMP of it impacting the ground.
Ford stopped in his tracks at the sight of it. What the deuce? That's not supposed to happen. Heck, that's not supposed to be able to happen- I did the math myself! How? Why?Tre's reaction, on the other hand, was eminently more practical. She made a break for it, scooping up Ford as she ran past, back towards the extraction point. Familiar orange beams stabbed into the ground around her as she ran.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.