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Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires and Werewolves and Leprechauns (Hellsing/Bloodborne)

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Imagine Anderson getting up to Mergo's Loft along with his party only to find Alucard sitting down reading a newspaper and with an absolutely bored expression on his face.
 
Chances of bayonets causing severe damage: 30% (ward fatigue, limited view of Amygdala, brain attempting to comprehend some real hardcore shit).

Update in progress.
 
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Boss Battle: vs. Lesser Amygdala
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    • Instincts you didn't even know you had are screaming at you to run or curl up or claw your own eyes out.

    But they can sit down and shut the fuck up, because Alexander Fucking Anderson isn't going to die to this amateur-hour Thing That Should Not Be horseshit. You force your eyes open and give the thing your best righteous glare.

    You get the sense that it's both glaring back and utterly schooling you in that department.

    You still can't see the thing itself, but a good chunk of its body is covered by your impromptu piercing service and smoke is still pouring from it. You've got a decent idea of its size (real fucking big), at least. Maybe a few more points of interest will help with that.

    "The fuck're you supposed ta be? Some kinda..."

    Okay, wow. You put a lot into that ward and that bloody screaming isn't helping. Stab now, quip later.

    You fill your hands and uncork a broadside of bayonets in the thing's general direction. After your first couple of throws, however, your arms start to flag. It's not just the ward; it's like your brain is too busy trying to piece together what you're seeing and hearing to give your body proper orders. You see a good number of them hit home, but you're not sure how deep they got. The screaming does get a bit louder, though; so, y'know, small victories.

    It starts to move.

    There's an almost audible groan as the ward begins to deform. It's trying to pull itself off the wall. The nails and pages writhe and twist and the ones in the wall struggle to stay put as the whole thing is stretched downwards.
    INSIGNIFICANT SPECK. YOU HURT ME.
    The ward gives with a peal of thunder.
    SEE ME. BE HONORED.
    Your ears are ringing and blood is pouring from your nose. Your body struggles to knit itself back together and your headache reaches a breaking point.

    Breathe. You've been through the valley of the shadow of death. This is no London. And this motherfucker is no Alucard. You grit your teeth and open your eyes.

    You can see it. It's real fucking big.

    Its build, and only its build, is humanoid. It's got more arms than you can count at the moment, each topped with a clawed, six-fingered hand. Its oddly-thin body stands hunched on two legs with a small tail and its gray flesh, tattooed with the still-smoldering Word, is leaking red blood.

    It has no face. Its head is a bean-shaped lattice of bone around a soft center of what are unmistakably eyes. Tentacles wave idly from its base.

    As you watch, those many arms pull the bayonets free from its body and drop them at your feet.

    You've got a splitting headache, your arms feel like lead, you've got a giant fucking monster from beyond time and space in front of you, it's dark, and you're wearing glasses.

    Hit it.


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    • [x]Eyes are vulnerable to stabbing right? Stab it in the eyes!
     
    Anderson is kind of wounded. Do we have a healing item of sorts that won't, you know, eventually turn us into a monster or do we need to wait for our natural regen?
     
    [X] Throw a couple of explosive bayonets at its head.
    [X] Lure the fucker out of the church and into the open
    [X] More explosive bayonets, then get into cover to let yourself regenerate for a bit.
     
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