Cy83r K0rp53
Inactive Member
Anselm crudely parried another crushing blow with his chainsword, the Mishhu's bladed and decorated forearm coming around as the marine struggled to recover, a shallow gouge joined a dozen others on the Aggressor's armored skin. 'Dammit, this bastard just won't let up, I'm exhausted and he's fucking playing with me.'
{INSIGNIFICANT} Another blow came at the marine, one that would finish the fight, slower though. Anselm ditched his BULLDOG and BOLT rack in a awkward and frantic duck-and-boost that left scant millimeters between the Mishhu's pristine weaponized arm and the Nepleslian Armor's scuffed and dinged torso.
{INFERIOR} A fourth blow in the combo dug the axe-like forearm into Anselm's side, parting the Aggressor's Nerimium-Durandium composite plating like soft butter. The entire armorsuit recoiled from the blow as the Albino's shock and pain drove both man and machine on reflex.
{FODDER} The Ripper's left arm was up now, the fun was over and it was time to move the game to its logical conclusion, death.
'I-' "I don't want to die," the marine complained, raising an arm in protest of the oncoming blow. Nerimium-laced plates shattering to bleed away kinetic energy as the axe-like blade sheared away Anselm's left forearm, sticking the the Aggressor's breastplate. Blaring red alerts popped across the marine's HUD as adrenaline, morphine, and clotting agents pumped into his sytem.
'I'M NOT GOING TO DIE.' Plasma bolts speared into the Ripper's face, burning away the optics and armor on the faceplate. The Mishhu armor stumbled back, firing wildly, a scalar pulse winging the Nepleslian armor, dropping its gravatic shielding down almost two-thirds. 'I'M NOT GOING TO DIE, ESPECIALLY-' "not to the likes of you." Anselm growled, shoving the whirring and shrieking teeth of his chainsword through the Ripper's scarred faceplate.
{EVENTUALLY} was the last thing the Ripper's pilot thought before the gruesome blade turned its body into a bloody pulp.
{INSIGNIFICANT} Another blow came at the marine, one that would finish the fight, slower though. Anselm ditched his BULLDOG and BOLT rack in a awkward and frantic duck-and-boost that left scant millimeters between the Mishhu's pristine weaponized arm and the Nepleslian Armor's scuffed and dinged torso.
{INFERIOR} A fourth blow in the combo dug the axe-like forearm into Anselm's side, parting the Aggressor's Nerimium-Durandium composite plating like soft butter. The entire armorsuit recoiled from the blow as the Albino's shock and pain drove both man and machine on reflex.
{FODDER} The Ripper's left arm was up now, the fun was over and it was time to move the game to its logical conclusion, death.
'I-' "I don't want to die," the marine complained, raising an arm in protest of the oncoming blow. Nerimium-laced plates shattering to bleed away kinetic energy as the axe-like blade sheared away Anselm's left forearm, sticking the the Aggressor's breastplate. Blaring red alerts popped across the marine's HUD as adrenaline, morphine, and clotting agents pumped into his sytem.
'I'M NOT GOING TO DIE.' Plasma bolts speared into the Ripper's face, burning away the optics and armor on the faceplate. The Mishhu armor stumbled back, firing wildly, a scalar pulse winging the Nepleslian armor, dropping its gravatic shielding down almost two-thirds. 'I'M NOT GOING TO DIE, ESPECIALLY-' "not to the likes of you." Anselm growled, shoving the whirring and shrieking teeth of his chainsword through the Ripper's scarred faceplate.
{EVENTUALLY} was the last thing the Ripper's pilot thought before the gruesome blade turned its body into a bloody pulp.