Hello all!
Hi, Morgan!
Well, here we go again, right?
Yeah, and here goes this tiny piece of C&C.
As always, C&C is appreciated, cherished, and
usually responded to, barring system crash (don't laugh - it HAS
happened).
Yeah, _I_ should know. ^_^
And, without further ado, away we go!
Ahem, you forgot again, my good friend. Don't worry, I'll always remember.
After all, the last time you weren't 'oficially' chastised. ^_^
If any of you, good readers, want to see what Ronin Summer has to offer,
then visit its site at http://dataraven_659.tripod.com/roninsummer.html or
at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Underworld/4709/roninsummer1.html
There you'll find so many chapters and story arcs of this wonderful series
that you won't even know where to begin (though the beginning would be my
choice).
Before anything else, there were formatting glitches in this one, too.
Nothing serious, but see what you can do.
<ALREADY A SNIP?>
"Would you be referring to the decaying flesh," Holts gagged,
"or the rotting bones?" Thraw looked as though he might enjoy both,
in her opinion. He was at least two heads taller than she, and nearly
as broad as he was tall. His black pants were already coated with
a layer of blood and grease from entering the room, and the thick
leather belt he wore was covered with small metal hooks. Bare for now,
but Holts knew all too well the number of weapons he would hang there
before the day was out. His bare chest and arms were covered with an
intricate network of long, angry scars, and his left ear was missing.
Kinda like Van Gogh, ne?
"I refer," her brother snarled, "to Mother. You can smell her
essence here still, if you have the nose for it." He smiled, and Holts
noticed that he had taken to filing his teeth into points again. "Not,"
he added, "that you have ever taken an interest in this aspect of
our work."
<TINY SNIP>
"Hey, I work just as hard as everybody else!" The young girl
replied hotly, crossing her arms across her chest as the jointed spines
that grew from her back rattled. "I'll have you know that I've been
awake for six whole hours! In a ROW!"
Heh. I already love this character. I can hear her saying: "...and I mean
sixty-minutes hours! SIXTY MINUTES! And six times sixty is... Oh, I'm too
tired to do a calculation now, maybe later."
"A new record," the man grunted as he rolled a few more skulls
off of the piles that he was surrounded by and tossed some spinal
cords after them. A few shards of purtefying flesh still hung from the
putrefying
yellowed bones, and Holts pinched her nose. "You must be proud."
"Be quiet," she hissed to her brother, "it's starting!" Looking
up to the ceiling, where she was pointing, Thraw's eyes widened. The
small channels and grooves were indeed slowly filling with a syrupy
red fluid that they knew all too well.
Jelly? LCL?
"He started early," Thraw groaned. "Pedri started the transfer
of her fluids." Gritting his teeth, he turned to Holts and bellowed.
"HURRY! WE HAVE TO GET THESE BONES INTO THE RING!"
<MINI-SNIP>
Erdge's eyes nearly popped out of her mask. "But the bones
are still... Oh, my. We have to move!" Her form blurring as she raced
past her two siblings, Erdge began grabbing and tossing arms, legs,
skulls, and ribs into the cleared middle of the room almost at random.
Cursing mightily, Thraw joined her in the task, hurling a pelvis like
a discus and rolling skulls like bowling balls.
What an interesting new sport... Skullball? Boneling?
<ANOTHER MINI-SNIP>
The three siblings stood in silence around the calm pool as it
did its work. Erdge wrung her braid in both hands and glanced nervously
at Holts, who barely restrained a yawn and began filing her nails on a
stray rib. Thraw stood as close to it as he could, his shoulders
rising and falling as he took deep breaths of the fluid's sickly sweet
bouquet. "Ahh..." He crooned, as the first skeletal hand burst through
"Ahh..." he crooned... (as that's the sound he's crooning, right?)
the surface, followed quickly by thirty more. "Battle..."
***********
Anubis awoke to the smell of smoke, and the feel of fingers
around his throat. Balling up one fist, he lashed out and broke the
nose of his assailant, slightly disgusted by the foul smelling slime
that seeped from between its sodden black rags. Coughing violently,
the Masho of Darkness grabbed his unexpected opponent by the head and
slammed their skull against the stone wall until all he was holding
slammed its skull (there's only one oponent in that moment, I believe)
was a fistful of red ooze and a few shards of bone. Making a face, he
wiped the guck off on his white nightshirt and leapt out of bed.
Halfway across the room, another of the ragged black figures
lunged at him from the boiling clouds of smoke. Stepping back, Anubis
barely avoided its rusted blade and grabbed the stool he had thrown
his pants on when preparing for bed. Swinging it like a bat, he quickly
blocked the creature's blade and twisted the weapon out of its hands.
A backhand with the stool snapped his assailant's spinal cord and
silenced it forever.
Not that he could talk before, as he had no vocal cords, right? ^_^
Dropping the shattered remains of the stool, Anubis haphazardly
tucked his silk nightshirt into the waistband of his hakama as he
stumbled to his open door. He had just known that this would happen if
he went without his yoroi...
Entering the corridor, Anubis coughed and doubled over in an
attempt to stay below the smoke drifting about him. Another of the
strange figures in black lunged at him, this one armed with a short
spear. The pair locked arms and struggled for a moment, Anubis trapping
the creature's wrists in a grasp that could shatter rock. His opponent
gurgled angrily, and the Masho of Darkness felt a warm and slimy fluid
seeping through its rags. Trying to readjust his hold, Anubis lost his
grip on the creature's arm and gasped as it rammed the javelin it
carried deep into his side.
Are a short spear and a javelin the same thing? Maybe it's a stupid question
(probably ^_^), but I wonder...
<NOT-SO-TINY SNIP>
Erdge blinked as she looked down at the girl. Some little brat,
probably, judging by the sound of her tone. Although, she had to admit,
I'm not sure about this. 'The tone of her voice' sounds better, I think.
that was a very lovely ring on the girl's finger. It would of course
look MUCH better on Erdge's own slender digits, though...
<SNIP>
Rajura staggered back against the wall, gasping for air as he
watched Sailor Thunderstorm dispatch another of their faceless,
voiceless enemy with a crackling disc of electricity. The golden bow on
enemies
the front of her emerald fuku had been shredded into ribbons, and she
was coated in the crimson slime that these things used for blood.
Nearby, eight of the shadowy monsters were struggling to bring down
Takenoko, as the giant minotaur shook them off like gnats.
There was yet another flash of light, and Rajura turned to see
that Sailor Lightstorm had succesfully obliterated another of the
creatures, which had been sneaking up on his blind side. With a soft
curse at himself for being so lax in his guard, the Masho of Deception
waved his thanks. Lightstorm beamed, and waved back before disappearing
into the crowd.
With no warning, one of Kayura's Guard flew backwards and
Guards (and why not 'guards')? Or maybe 'one of the members of Kayura's
Guard'?
clattered to the floor, his gutted armour already releasing the thick
black mist of his soul. The Spider Masho watched with growing
apprehension as a tall and muscular man walked forward, smoke still
rising from the axe in his left hand. He was bald, and missing one ear.
From his belt hung maces, swords, javelins, nunchaku, and other weapons
'nunchakus', right? I mean, the other items are all in the plural.
Rajura had never seen before.
If there's a weapon Rajura hasn't seen before, then it's time to worry.
<SSSNIP>
"You're right," Rajura said, and kicked Thraw in the crotch.
"Fair IS fair." As the man doubled over, he felt the Masho's hands
gripping the back of his head, slamming his face into a rising knee.
"And I, to date, am NOT." Rajura raised his clasped fists over his head
and brought them down in a double blow on the base of Thraw's skull.
Heheh. That line was priceless.
As the man fell to his knees, dazed, Rajura looked around the
battlefield. The crackles of elecricity down the hall told him that
electricity
Thunderstorm was still going strong, and two or three of Kayura's Guard
were still earning their pay nearby, but the minotaur Takenoko was
nowhere to be seen. To his surprise, a man in black hakama and a
stained red nightshirt stumbled around the corner and thrust a bloody
'red-stained' sounds better, IMO. What do you think?
javelin through the chest of a figure in now-familiar black rags.
"Rajura!" The Masho of Darkness called. "Are you all right?"
"Nothing five days alone with that Pedri boy and a meathook
won't cure," Rajura responded, then glanced at his comrade with
concern. "What about you, Anubis? How are you doing?"
"I'm alive," Anubis groaned, "but I'm not too friendly. Where
are you headed?"
Rajura shrugged. "I'm headed for our yoroi. Upstairs. You?"
Why 'our'? The only available yoroi is Rajura's, right?
<SNIP>
"You never let me have any fun," Rajura complained to his
fellow Masho. "I haven't performed the Hangman's Hundred Handed
Horrifier in decades! If I don't practice these skills, they're going
to atrophy, and THEN where will we be when you want a death long and
painful?"
LOL. ^_^
<BIG SNIP>
The tank almost burbled loud enough to drown out the screams.
Oh, such a lovely ending for the chapter...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Thanks God.
Well, Morgan, another great chapter. This one was very polished, and I
didn't find much to say. Some typos, but those are nothing. As David said,
the villans are most interesting, and the dialogue keeps its usual excelent
quality. Good work!
This came even faster than I thought; I wish I could write as quickly as you
can. Now get to write next chapter! ^_^
Well, that's all for now. See you, man,
Latin_D