The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
And then it all turns out to have been the dream of an autistic child with a snow globe.
Now You Feel Like Number None [Bleach Arrancar Quest]
- Thread starter Omicron
- Start date
- Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
- Location
- Here & There
"Kubo..."
DB_Explorer
Purveyor of alternate realities.
- Location
- San Diego, California
- Pronouns
- He/Him
If/when we do have a wedding lets invite Orhime and Tatsuki.
Orhime would be all for it, Tatsuki would be wondering why they got an invite from a girl they tried to kill.
Orhime would be all for it, Tatsuki would be wondering why they got an invite from a girl they tried to kill.
*purses lips, grabs chalk and duster*
Four for the Guardian Beasts bound to the sky,
Thirteen for the Court Guard in their walls of bone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Queen on her shadow throne
In the halls of Las Noches where the restless bide.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the shadows bind them,
In the halls of Las Noches where the restless hide.
*dusts chalk off hands*
Now You Feel Like Number 48 - 41: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light
- Location
- Texas
Now You Feel Like Number 48
Chapter XLI: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light
——————————————————————
Even as she utters her release command, the Privaron Nemo ignites.
Ignites seems too tame a word; she burns; she flares; she combusts.
A flood of white light pours from the spot where she stood, and at its heart, painful to look upon, is a silhouette half familiar and half strange.
From its shoulders, four arms depend; from its collar, a cape of bleached white, spread behind it like a sail. Its torso is armored in bone, and upon its head are not the horns of a broken mask, but the cruel tines of a wicked crown.
Her — for surely this must still be the Privaron — her feet do not touch the ground; she floats imperiously above glowing sand, buoyed by some hellish updraft that fills her cape and ruffles her hair about mad eyes.
Aaroniero has already taken cover in the shadow of a toppled column.
Today, there are two suns in Las Noches.
The great beast that was Yammy roars in hate, and swings an enormous fist at the blinding apparition. She watches it approaching like a battering ram, and then, simply slips upward in the wind from passage, like a delicate leaf in a sudden breeze.
With that same unconcerned grace, she launches an arc of glowing projectiles from each hand. Is it bala? It must be, but it is like no bala you have encountered; rather than the familiar compact bolts of bala, she summons glowing swords to hand, and hurls them to sink into Yammy's flesh, where they sizzle and pop.
Against a lesser foes, those shining blades would have been deadly; Yammy is simply too large to be impressed by such things. Though they sink to the hilt in his hide, their burning energy is extinguished long before they could cauterize their way to some vital organ.
A frown crosses the face of the burning effigy at this failure, but it has little time to consider. Yammy's tail, long and clubbed, whips around, faster than anything so large should move, faster than you would have imagined, and drives Nemo into the ground. The beast follows with a volley of his own bala, hurled from each fist, like an artillery barrage.
Each bolt is larger than you, and as they slam into the desert floor and explode, one after another, a crater grows and a dust cloud covers the battlefield. The world darkens as ash and dust block all vision.
The beast laughs, a terrible booming laugh.
"Is that all then? That's everything you've got? A stupid insect getting above herself, and now I've smashed you. This is what all your tricks, all your hiding, all your regeneration get you: nothing. In the face of real power, you have nothing, you are nothing, and the only one who cares about your passing is whatever pathetic worm is assigned to mop up your remains."
And then, as the dust swirls, a spear of light from the crater. Your heart jumps as the clouds slowly clear, and fingers of sunlight begin to pierce through again, one by one.
Yammy stares in surprise as that thin figure is revealed again. Her cape is gone, and her armor is cracked and discolored, but her teeth are bared.
"Bala!" Yammy shouts, and hurls another red cannonball.
A glowing sword flashes to meet it half-way, and they detonate in mutual annihilation.
The next bala barely leaves his fist before it is intercepted; the explosion rocks Yammy back on his many heels. He gapes. The Privaron raises a hand, and makes a beckoning gesture.
Come at me.
"Right, then, you want to drag it out? Time to stop playing games, then!"
Yammy opens his mouth to inhale, and even as you realize he intends to charge a cero, a beam of coherent light catches him in the face.
Not a cero. Looking at the Privaron, you trace the beam to its origin in her crown. It flickers, in time with the burning light from her eyes, and as you watch, Yammy's eyes begin to flicker and burn as well. He stands, as still as a statue, mute as a stone.
And then, the Privaron wafts deliberately towards him, and he extends a titanic palm towards her, upon which she alights, carelessly. He conveys her up to his face, and there, something is exchanged between then. You cannot make out what she says, but the Yammy-beast smiles a beatific smile, an expression so bizarre to a face not built for anything but rage, and opens his mouth.
As the Privaron floats quickly away, Yammy inhales, gathering the red light of a cero. Nemo turns her back toward him in supreme unconcern; the warning you mean to shout dies in your throat.
Yammy draws in energy. He does not release the cero.
Yammy continues to pull in spiritual power, continues to build, more than you have ever felt at a time, but still, he does not release it, just building more, and more, and more.
And then, the world turns crimson, and the ground shakes, and then all is darkness.
When you wake up, Aaroniero is nowhere to be seen. Yammy…what's left of Yammy can be seen everywhere. The Privaron Nemo, back in her accustomed form, is standing there answering questions from the Lorde of the Air, Ulquiorra Cipher. He doesn't seem to like the results, but, then, he seldom seems to like anything.
"Ah, you're awake," a voice squirms. "how convenient. Number…48, I think? Did you witness what happened here? How did Yammy die?"
Szayel Apollo-Grantz. Another Espada, and as feared as any among them.
"He…" you stutter, too concussed to even string together real sentences, much less try to lie. "He blew up. He got so big, and then he tried to cero, and he just…blew up. Kaboom."
"I see," Szayel said, making notes. "Overwhelmed by his power when he released. Disappointing, but these things happen. We'll just have to chalk Yammy down as a failed experiment. You're fortunate to have survived."
Question answered, he wanders towards Ulquiorra, still scribbling notes. The Privaron Nemo, dismissed, begins to take halting steps back in the direction of her pillar fort. Just before she leaves your view, she pauses, and looks back over her shoulder in your direction.
{ } Follow Nemo back home.
{ } Find somewhere quiet to recover and think about what just happened.
{ } Flee Las Noches forever.
---------------------------------------
And this is why Phigment does not write fight scenes.
Chapter XLI: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light
——————————————————————
Even as she utters her release command, the Privaron Nemo ignites.
Ignites seems too tame a word; she burns; she flares; she combusts.
A flood of white light pours from the spot where she stood, and at its heart, painful to look upon, is a silhouette half familiar and half strange.
From its shoulders, four arms depend; from its collar, a cape of bleached white, spread behind it like a sail. Its torso is armored in bone, and upon its head are not the horns of a broken mask, but the cruel tines of a wicked crown.
Her — for surely this must still be the Privaron — her feet do not touch the ground; she floats imperiously above glowing sand, buoyed by some hellish updraft that fills her cape and ruffles her hair about mad eyes.
Aaroniero has already taken cover in the shadow of a toppled column.
Today, there are two suns in Las Noches.
The great beast that was Yammy roars in hate, and swings an enormous fist at the blinding apparition. She watches it approaching like a battering ram, and then, simply slips upward in the wind from passage, like a delicate leaf in a sudden breeze.
With that same unconcerned grace, she launches an arc of glowing projectiles from each hand. Is it bala? It must be, but it is like no bala you have encountered; rather than the familiar compact bolts of bala, she summons glowing swords to hand, and hurls them to sink into Yammy's flesh, where they sizzle and pop.
Against a lesser foes, those shining blades would have been deadly; Yammy is simply too large to be impressed by such things. Though they sink to the hilt in his hide, their burning energy is extinguished long before they could cauterize their way to some vital organ.
A frown crosses the face of the burning effigy at this failure, but it has little time to consider. Yammy's tail, long and clubbed, whips around, faster than anything so large should move, faster than you would have imagined, and drives Nemo into the ground. The beast follows with a volley of his own bala, hurled from each fist, like an artillery barrage.
Each bolt is larger than you, and as they slam into the desert floor and explode, one after another, a crater grows and a dust cloud covers the battlefield. The world darkens as ash and dust block all vision.
The beast laughs, a terrible booming laugh.
"Is that all then? That's everything you've got? A stupid insect getting above herself, and now I've smashed you. This is what all your tricks, all your hiding, all your regeneration get you: nothing. In the face of real power, you have nothing, you are nothing, and the only one who cares about your passing is whatever pathetic worm is assigned to mop up your remains."
And then, as the dust swirls, a spear of light from the crater. Your heart jumps as the clouds slowly clear, and fingers of sunlight begin to pierce through again, one by one.
Yammy stares in surprise as that thin figure is revealed again. Her cape is gone, and her armor is cracked and discolored, but her teeth are bared.
"Bala!" Yammy shouts, and hurls another red cannonball.
A glowing sword flashes to meet it half-way, and they detonate in mutual annihilation.
The next bala barely leaves his fist before it is intercepted; the explosion rocks Yammy back on his many heels. He gapes. The Privaron raises a hand, and makes a beckoning gesture.
Come at me.
"Right, then, you want to drag it out? Time to stop playing games, then!"
Yammy opens his mouth to inhale, and even as you realize he intends to charge a cero, a beam of coherent light catches him in the face.
Not a cero. Looking at the Privaron, you trace the beam to its origin in her crown. It flickers, in time with the burning light from her eyes, and as you watch, Yammy's eyes begin to flicker and burn as well. He stands, as still as a statue, mute as a stone.
And then, the Privaron wafts deliberately towards him, and he extends a titanic palm towards her, upon which she alights, carelessly. He conveys her up to his face, and there, something is exchanged between then. You cannot make out what she says, but the Yammy-beast smiles a beatific smile, an expression so bizarre to a face not built for anything but rage, and opens his mouth.
As the Privaron floats quickly away, Yammy inhales, gathering the red light of a cero. Nemo turns her back toward him in supreme unconcern; the warning you mean to shout dies in your throat.
Yammy draws in energy. He does not release the cero.
Yammy continues to pull in spiritual power, continues to build, more than you have ever felt at a time, but still, he does not release it, just building more, and more, and more.
And then, the world turns crimson, and the ground shakes, and then all is darkness.
When you wake up, Aaroniero is nowhere to be seen. Yammy…what's left of Yammy can be seen everywhere. The Privaron Nemo, back in her accustomed form, is standing there answering questions from the Lorde of the Air, Ulquiorra Cipher. He doesn't seem to like the results, but, then, he seldom seems to like anything.
"Ah, you're awake," a voice squirms. "how convenient. Number…48, I think? Did you witness what happened here? How did Yammy die?"
Szayel Apollo-Grantz. Another Espada, and as feared as any among them.
"He…" you stutter, too concussed to even string together real sentences, much less try to lie. "He blew up. He got so big, and then he tried to cero, and he just…blew up. Kaboom."
"I see," Szayel said, making notes. "Overwhelmed by his power when he released. Disappointing, but these things happen. We'll just have to chalk Yammy down as a failed experiment. You're fortunate to have survived."
Question answered, he wanders towards Ulquiorra, still scribbling notes. The Privaron Nemo, dismissed, begins to take halting steps back in the direction of her pillar fort. Just before she leaves your view, she pauses, and looks back over her shoulder in your direction.
{ } Follow Nemo back home.
{ } Find somewhere quiet to recover and think about what just happened.
{ } Flee Las Noches forever.
---------------------------------------
And this is why Phigment does not write fight scenes.
Last edited:
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's the mind control power people have ascribed to Radiance Nemo. She broke the fight like when you forgot to put immunity to Dominate Monster on your CR 20 boss.
I kinda prefer a more subdued version of Privaron Nemo but I dig the mythological tone of the Indiana Jones nonsense and that works with it.
- Location
- Israel
Yea, the swords are the Radiance's main attack in the game (which get progressively more annoying as the fight goes on), together with a giant solar death Ray (which actually fits Cero quite well).
But for most of the game, the Radiance's main inflence is felt through her ability to mind control people in their dreams (the reason why most enemies try to kill you)
But for most of the game, the Radiance's main inflence is felt through her ability to mind control people in their dreams (the reason why most enemies try to kill you)
SolipsistSerpent
Endlessly Devouring
They've been teasing past Nemo having mind-control powers pretty heavily, look at the Aaronerio update, for example. It turns out current Nemo also has mind control powers, she just doesn't use them much.
{X} Flee Las Noches forever.
-{X} With Nemo
It's about time we got out of this hellhole.
-{X} With Nemo
It's about time we got out of this hellhole.
RoninSword
Sky God
- Location
- Canada
As stated, Radiance Nemo was part flying artillery part mind controller. The AU has her basically be an ancient hollow who ruled vast swathes of the desert, and then became a natural arrancar at some point in order to escape from a trap Mantis set. They become friends and enough time passes that likely one of the only hollows alive who remembers Nemo as the Radiance would be Barragan.
Upon realizing that Yammy's release is still to much for her to simply power through, I could see her decide to try mind wammying Yammy and seeing about getting him to kill himself. That he was so susceptible to it could be chalked up to the fact that his mentality is basically 'RAGE!' with no nuance. Likely other beings could have easier times of it. Maybe.
{X} Find somewhere quiet to recover and think about what just happened.
{X} Flee Las Noches forever.
This vote is gonna lose - but I want it to at least be considered, since ha ha ha holy fucking shit mind control suicide explosion hax oh fuck
I mean, narratively we can't just go "fuck it I'm out" but we should at least have some part of us that really really wants to pick a direction, start running, and never stop.
This vote is gonna lose - but I want it to at least be considered, since ha ha ha holy fucking shit mind control suicide explosion hax oh fuck
I mean, narratively we can't just go "fuck it I'm out" but we should at least have some part of us that really really wants to pick a direction, start running, and never stop.
