Travisplo
The Necromonsieur
... Booooooooooooo.
Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires and Werewolves and Leprechauns (Hellsing/Bloodborne)
- Thread starter Tricia
- Start date
NitroFumetsu
Blaze of Glory
What the fuck did the messengers roll to actually get a hold of that shovel? We're Alexander Sir Motherfucker Anderson and we couldn't hold onto it.
- Location
- in the trash
Last edited:
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- Location
- Chicago
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
Lone Courier 6
Devilish Fool
- Location
- United States of Quests
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
We knew about this.
The Fourth Monado
S U B A R A S H I I
- Location
- Away
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- Location
- Somewhere
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- Location
- the Moon
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
GilliamYaeger
M'crazy.
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
ChildishChimera
A umbran summon
- Location
- New York
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- Location
- Mists of Albion
[X] "How 'bout a round of applause for the little bastards? Ah, wait-"
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- [X] While the beast is pissed off, pivot toward its wounded side. Natural reaction will be to turn
- [X] Throw decoy explosive bayonets at target but aimed at the background gothic fencing behind it
- [X] Keep his attention forward with a hail of gatling fire
- [X] Detonate bayonets and drive three feet of iron into its back side
- [X] Apply bident liberally.
- Location
- Chicago
*Head Explodes from an Excess of the Lovely Writhing Secrets.*
Doctor_Hayden
Plant-Katto
- Location
- Morioh, 1999
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm sorry. It'll be up tomorrow. We'll finish it before I go on vacation, I promise, but just not right now.
Totally ok. You do very good work, so I'm pretty sure we're all willing to wait as long as you need.
Except those chosen few assholes, but no-one likes them anyway.
Gatling assault: 35% damage, 5% major damage, 5% grievous damage
Bloodrayne by Uwe Boll: 25%
Caltrops: 25% damage, 5% major damage, 5% grievous damage
Moon-Assault Press: 35% damage, 10% major damage, 5% grievous damage
Shock treatment: 30% damage, 10% major damage, 10% grievous damage.
Writin'
Bloodrayne by Uwe Boll: 25%
Caltrops: 25% damage, 5% major damage, 5% grievous damage
Moon-Assault Press: 35% damage, 10% major damage, 5% grievous damage
Shock treatment: 30% damage, 10% major damage, 10% grievous damage.
Writin'
vs. Moon Presence: Pressure
The thing is so preoccupied with being a gigantic baby over one measly lost limb that it's in no position to dodge when you unload a fresh volley from the Gatling laser. Bursts of superheated whatever-these-things-actually-shoot punch fresh holes in its mane, torso, and remaining arm before it finally gets its shit together and goes back on the defensive. You hobble after it like an octogenarian chasing Halloween TP-ers, firing all the while. As you pursue, more blood clouds rise from the earth, but even with approximately 1.5 good legs, you dodge them with ease.
Shit like that only works once.
You switch to bayonets as you herd it around the arena, never giving it room to breathe. This thought triggers brief musings as to the nature of its respiratory system, raising questions you're sure you can answer with a little impromptu vivisection.
It's figured out your exploding bayonet trick and does a solid job of never lingering too near the blades it dodges, but the sheer quantity of blessed steel sticking out of the ground limits its safe havens. The steady rain forces it ever closer to the line of pointy fencing circling the arena, where a bevy of blades with rapidly dwindling fuses wait. Your bayonets detonate at the base of the spikes, sending them flying, but none make successful contact as Moonfucker wobbles past. Without remote detonation, you had to rely on the sort of timing you'd struggle with even if your torso didn't look like peeled grapefruit, and getting shit to explode in a specific direction isn't easy.
You might have gotten a little overambitious with that one.
Finally, as its real estate continues to dwindle, the creature rushes back in with a flurry of blows from its tail and tentacles. You tuck your chin and slide the bident into your hand as whipping strikes crack against your armor. When you lash out, however, its assault slackens. It's not just accumulated damage; it's pulling away from your thrusts with near-panic and hesitating to exploit the openings that you, by dint of having a sack of bone shards and pulped muscle fibers for a right arm, inevitably leave.
You've put the fear of God into it.
The drumbeat of strikes continues to drop its tempo, turned away by nips from the bident and the burning shield of scripture. It makes sense, you realize; this thing's a scavenger. It could hold Ebrietas off on its own turf, but if it could take care of itself against full-grown Great Ones, it wouldn't have bothered with this whole Dream bullshit. The simplest solution is the usually the best one, after all, and there's no simpler solution than mauling the shit out of whoever or whatever is giving you trouble.
"What's the matter?" you grunt as your bident skims its mask. "Didja think I'd just quit if ye turned off my regen?" You can feel your shin splintering beneath you, your torn flesh screaming as you demand more and more of it. "I'm not goin' away, do ye hear me? Yharnam's my fuckin' turf now, so quit runnin' and try and take it from me."
It halts its retreat and surges towards you, desperation or bravado dredging up newfound fury. At least it's a good listener.
--
CURRENT STATUSES:
Anderson: Right arm still destroyed, tibia cracked but functional, partial flensing across body, regeneration disabled
Moon Presence: Left forelimb, pieces of "hair," and two of three tails severed, extensive burns along tentacles, torso, and remaining arm
Shit like that only works once.
You switch to bayonets as you herd it around the arena, never giving it room to breathe. This thought triggers brief musings as to the nature of its respiratory system, raising questions you're sure you can answer with a little impromptu vivisection.
It's figured out your exploding bayonet trick and does a solid job of never lingering too near the blades it dodges, but the sheer quantity of blessed steel sticking out of the ground limits its safe havens. The steady rain forces it ever closer to the line of pointy fencing circling the arena, where a bevy of blades with rapidly dwindling fuses wait. Your bayonets detonate at the base of the spikes, sending them flying, but none make successful contact as Moonfucker wobbles past. Without remote detonation, you had to rely on the sort of timing you'd struggle with even if your torso didn't look like peeled grapefruit, and getting shit to explode in a specific direction isn't easy.
You might have gotten a little overambitious with that one.
Finally, as its real estate continues to dwindle, the creature rushes back in with a flurry of blows from its tail and tentacles. You tuck your chin and slide the bident into your hand as whipping strikes crack against your armor. When you lash out, however, its assault slackens. It's not just accumulated damage; it's pulling away from your thrusts with near-panic and hesitating to exploit the openings that you, by dint of having a sack of bone shards and pulped muscle fibers for a right arm, inevitably leave.
You've put the fear of God into it.
The drumbeat of strikes continues to drop its tempo, turned away by nips from the bident and the burning shield of scripture. It makes sense, you realize; this thing's a scavenger. It could hold Ebrietas off on its own turf, but if it could take care of itself against full-grown Great Ones, it wouldn't have bothered with this whole Dream bullshit. The simplest solution is the usually the best one, after all, and there's no simpler solution than mauling the shit out of whoever or whatever is giving you trouble.
"What's the matter?" you grunt as your bident skims its mask. "Didja think I'd just quit if ye turned off my regen?" You can feel your shin splintering beneath you, your torn flesh screaming as you demand more and more of it. "I'm not goin' away, do ye hear me? Yharnam's my fuckin' turf now, so quit runnin' and try and take it from me."
It halts its retreat and surges towards you, desperation or bravado dredging up newfound fury. At least it's a good listener.
--
CURRENT STATUSES:
Anderson: Right arm still destroyed, tibia cracked but functional, partial flensing across body, regeneration disabled
Moon Presence: Left forelimb, pieces of "hair," and two of three tails severed, extensive burns along tentacles, torso, and remaining arm