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 Post subject: Undead Death Wish! <Stag vs Scottsonknight>
PostPosted: Thu Oct 10, 2013 12:47 am 
No secrets for me in MW
No secrets for me in MW
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Joined: Wed Jul 05, 2006 7:47 am
Posts: 420
Dirt and bone were all death could offer: 2 feet of skulls, worms, and ashen ground. A heart thumped within a coffin where a man slept once forgotten. Darkness Incarnate hadn’t received this man, and those not received by the world are pushed into darkness, like mice to a sewage drain. This particular man was among them, a boxed foul. The essence of him trapped within the confines of his body and the frail wooden casing that surrounded that body that was constructed to seal his ambition, his passion, the chaos he once brought to the land; and a villainous excuse of a case it was: moldy oak drenched in kerosene.

The man in a box fought with exasperated breaths until at once his eyes were open to feel an intense burning sensation; the skin of his palms sensed what he now recognized as a flat hard surface above him. The ceiling was nailed shut and slowly collapsed in from the weakest structural point, the center. Droplets of soil seeped through the cracks, hitting his bare chest, as if to bury him again, but even a determined death must contend with some resistance. Had nature called to bury another condemned soul, or did the land once again need to have received this man’s influence? This question was a choice question; Stag was a man of choice. To live or to die, what is the question? These were the thoughts of Stag, his mind had swam due to having inhaled kerosene fumes.

When from beneath the ground there was a tapping,
as if someone gently cracking,
pushing his back against the trapping:
of a coffin meant for 2.

His body coiled, shoulders pressed against where the foliage entered. The topsoil dispersed throughout the compartment, and the trapped man took his last inner breath from within the tomb. The lid busted into splintered slabs of debris, and the man erected his head above land. This earth was slightly lower than he’d imagined it would be. Usually, graves had a depth beneath ground of 6ft or more, but the loose soil at his feet did little more then press against his ankles: more than a soil though, there were bones of several victims this man, Stag, had slaughtered.

He inhaled a breath of oxygen, and his thoughts had begun to become clear. The skulls at his feet were all smiling as they had always done: bearing white canines, molars, and thinly girthed incisors. Death had received the once fleshed creatures with a laughing gest, and though their expression once moved to frown, eventually they always seemed to get the joke. The joke was Stag, the man standing above ground. He was smiling on the inside too as all folk had always smiled, if only with their skulls. In a world such as this, who could be lonely?

“This grave situation was hilarious.” He managed to gasp between breaths. “Why don’t you show yourself, fowl, and I’ll help you get the joke too.”
Stag’s hand instinctively touched the rim of his waist, fingering the handle of a sharply polished throwing knife.
He was not amused.

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 Post subject: Re: Undead Death Wish! <Stag vs Scottsonknight>
PostPosted: Fri Oct 11, 2013 7:22 pm 
Can't wait for MWO
Can't wait for MWO

Joined: Sat Feb 24, 2007 12:19 am
Posts: 1748
There was a somber silence over the cemetery tonight, the same silence that falls upon the graveyard every night. The time when loved ones leave their departed in the dark cold dirt had passed on not a single soul was left alive in the graveyard. They leave flowers for their families; in a vase or sometimes loosely on the stone. This grave had no roses, no tulips, no carnations, and no name on his tombstone. The only thing left for this cursed man were skulls piled across his grave. The man so rebellious he refuses the reaper, the defiant Stag.

The Stag's body had been beaten beyond recognition more times than anyone could count. Still he fought against his fate, unwilling to walk toward that bright light of hell. His body could withstand any beating without breaking. He would make a perfect host for the new death.

The infested corpse shuffled over toward the cursed grave of the Stag. Dressed in rags and covered in vines the hybrid of life and death reached into a hole in his own chest cavity and plucked out the smallest of seeds. The large tendril vines that tore out of his decompose wrist dug into the soil and the rotted hand dropped the seed into the soil.

Hubris waited in patience, of which the plant had in spades, for the seed he had planted to grow and carry up its target in tangle roots. The Stag had been deceased for half a decade, dead and buried in a shoddy wooden box and left to rot. But the man who was trampled, mangled, and mutilated so often in life would without a doubt survive any length of time without giving in to the decay of death. This is what Hubris desired, a host body as immortal as the Tree of Saurojin.

No more than five minuets went by until the earth began to tremble and the winds to howl. Thunder cracked in the distance as crows fled from nearby trees. The crows always followed the hosts of Hubris, always waiting to pick at the flesh of a not so fresh meal. The roots began to stir from the soil and erupt from the earth, displacing the dirt around the grave as the wooden box began to peak from the soil.

Hubris took a step forward toward his trophy body as small seedlings were sprouting across the flesh of the constantly growing Hubris. Another step towards the coffin and while in the process of a third step the lid from the container burst from its nailed position, sending bits of wood splintering across the ground. The Stag was still alive and still defiant. The assassin jested in means lost on Hubris as all humor was as he awoke from the silence of death.

Small bits of flesh fell to the ground as vines from the wrist ripped the signature weapon of the Hubris host from its resting position, pinned to the forearm and held by vines and thorns. The weapon wiped around wildly at his side and a small hissing sound escaped the lips of the host. This prize would prove problematic to acquire, but this one body was worth waves of shambling corpses and any loss would be worthy to obtain such a host.

~~~~~Incantation Chart~~~~~
Vines of Enhancement (Growing 1/4)

Hubris of Humanity

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