Brahma_Bull's forum posts

#1 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@adhene: @blooddiamond@_allstar_ @strigidae_23

'Perfect', a sadistic grin nearly curling beneath the Brahma Bull's iconic, menacing mask. The spear-wielding elementalist's verbal response came with it a tactical hole for the Gothic City Nightmare to exploit. Unconcerned with the deemed nonsensical 'this' and 'that' spouted from his other, vampiric foe's mouth, the Brahma Bull's hulking frame turned to face the silver-haired girl. His resolute footsteps bringing him forward with rocking quakes that reverberated across the structurally yielding concrete ground, his luminous, soulless vermilion eyes intent on meeting his adversary's with an unblinking gaze. Success had been acquired, she met his gaze while combating her evident fear with emerging courage. Yet the deed had been done.

Eye contact had been achieved. Eye contact, maintained for ten seconds was the only prerequisite to the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare's recently acquired, supernatural ability to inflict unparalleled psychological trauma on his opponents. Intent on maintaining the girl's ocular attention for those ten seconds, to beguile her into a trap that could not be discerned, the powerful bass of his monstrous voice began. "Messiah?", he paused, internally scoffing at the title, having never once claimed to be that which the girl blindly accuses him of, "Perhaps. But you don't seem to know what a messiah is, girl", a cruelly taunting laugh following as his approach grows closer. With the intention of capturing the girl's attention for the required amount of time with idealistic conversation, he continues the implementation of his 'gameplan'. "A messiah is an individual. One who believes that they and only they are in a unique position to lead a people, to bring forth a radical change to fit their idealistic vision of what ought to be. To believe one can do that requires hubris".

"Messiah is a misleading title", his suffocating body heat encompassing them as he inches closer with every domineering step. "To want to lead a people, to want to decide for the rest of the world what is best for it because you believe you have the answer. I do not hide behind the false-face of a bigoted religion or a benevolent dream for tomorrow. But that is what messiahs need to veil wandering eyes from what they truly seek, from what all of history's messiahs have all sought, power", he continues. "But no, I do not hide behind the title of 'messiah'. I embrace the title's true name. Conqueror", he pauses, standing mere inches before her, his piercing crimson gaze never wavering from her eyes. "Icarus fell because he did not learn to fear the sun. Nothing has changed from the days of your childhood when like Little Red Riding Hood, you feared the Big Bad Wolf. Only this time, it is another diminutive bitch facing a greater monster".

Ten seconds and his ocular powers commence, hoping to seize the established eye contact to trap his adversary's mind within the torturous confines of an illusionary domain entirely subservient to his control. Armed with the ability to alter his entrapped victim's perception of time, should he succeed in imprisoning the youthful spear-fighter in the illusion, he would render the entire ordeal which lasts only several seconds, to seem like an array of days to aggrandize the severity of her psychological torture. She would find herself in what appears to be a frightening domain of slag and burning skies and frigid air. A desecrated, decaying place washed in blood and smeared with excrement as his opponent's greatest fears would emerge to endlessly haunt her, abusing the sensation of fear and forcing her to relive the most traumatizing experiences imaginable, again and again and again, intent on viciously breaking her mind and reducing her to no more than a child in a vegetative state.

Enduring her unleashed incendiary attacks, his natural control over hellfire coupled with his durability enabling him to sustain what was generally only superficial wounds, the Brahma Bull though barely superhuman in his rapidity, darted back with a dexterous back-step, having to halt his desire to savagely cut down the spear-wielder with his black-bladed machete in order to evade the dual assault launched by Allstar, and the vampiric teenager. Leaning his head and upper body away from the waist, implementing a Muay Thai-brand of head movement while exploiting his height to force his armed opponent's initial sword swing to lacerate the flesh on his left shoulder as opposed to his jugular, he darted back, a series of M67 grenade pins falling to the ground before his adversary as a cluster of fragmentation grenades lingering mere inches from her frame sought to detonate and graphically scorch her while steel fragments would fling to violently puncture her.

Meanwhile his back-step's successful evasion of Allstar's generated blast had exposed his katana-wielding not only to the explosive might of his grenades, but to the wrath of the Golden Guardian's blast. Panting somewhat, his physical attributes reverting to those possessed during his pre-Horseman era courtesy of the katana-wielding vampire's initial laceration, the corners of his lips edged upwards in a triumphant grin at the radioed information that Ivana, the 23rd Strigidae was fast approaching to join the fray.

#2 Posted by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_psyentist: @lena_dante: @adhene: @allegiance: @blooddiamond:

Upon receiving radioed confirmation from the Autocrat and Strigidae 100 of their forces' successful entry into the magniloquent city of Washington DC, the Brahma Bull rode forward, his band of hulking beasts and monsters of militant savagery frothing at the prospect of skinning their opposition alive. A mystifying silence fell upon the shimmering city, the Gothic City Nightmare's black mist dissipating into the still night as fate waited with uneasy anticipation. Dismounting his gargantuan Pale Horse, the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare strode forward, leading his menacing cronies into the city, his commands burning in their minds, growling at them to eviscerate and dismember the encompassing civilians. They were not soldiers, no his paramilitary collective rested presently under the leadership of the tactical wizard, the Autocrat, those in the Brahma Bull's company, were simply put, monsters, instruments of carnage.

A staple of his destructive assaults on American soil was encompassing himself with his armed, mutant guerrilla troops for strategic input, tactical support, and the implementation of guerrilla warfare. Tonight however, those who came to expect him to adhere to his usual modus operandi would find themselves sorely disappointed. The pedestrians were a minimum, the bulk of the city's constituents hid in the comfort of their homes as per the demands of President Clarice Pierce's ordered curfew. Raising his massive, tree trunk-like arms, the Brahma Bull's irate, vermilion eyes pulsated furiously, the black, smokeless flames of Hell rose and flared all about the city, spreading wildly and without mercy, burning away the environment's oxygen and scorching all that it touched. If the American citizens would not emerge to witness the rise of his kingdom, the Gothic City Nightmare's ebony flames would consume them and reduce their homes to ruin.

While Strigidae 100 led a brutalizing onslaught in the city's western most, bombing and bullying the city's infrastructure with RPG-30s, Molotov Cocktails, M67s, M203s and the like, the Autocrat led his cronies into a segmented guerrilla assault. One portion was instructed to seek out the city's power delivering system and disable it with the intention of depriving the city of its electrical power, and employing the resultant darkness to disorganize and disorient the heroic defenders, police officers, and potential military forces certain to intervene, while another portion sought to induce vehement sensory disorientation and deprivation in their opposition via their assortment of potent chemical warfare agents, blood agents (hydrogen cyanide), vomiting agents (diphenylchloroarsine), blister agents (sulfur mustard), and psychological agents (3-quinuclidinyl benzilate), hopefully rendering them into a highly vulnerable state and exposed to the ensued militant assault.

With the objective of plucking the American president's eyes from her head and seizing control of what may soon become the ruins of Washington DC, the Brahma Bull marched forward, every footstep reverberating with a petrifying quake across the concrete pavement as the streets burned and civilians cried. And then, abruptly, the indignant revolutionary was intercepted, a powerful current of air blasted against his hulking frame with the kinetic force to reduce a sturdy boulder into rubble. An admirable assault of commendable valor, and perhaps against another opponent, incapacitation would have surely been its fruit. Unfortunately, for one of the Brahma Bull's documented durability, it simply managed to rouse his irascibility as crimson eyes rested on the spear-wielding girl's diminutive frame. A portion of his followers however, were not so fortunate, finding themselves blown into the distance by the girl's potent but raw aerokinesis. "Heroes will be dropping like Icarus tonight", the menacing bass of his voice growled.

While adding the girl's blood to the smeared crimson staining his machete's ebony blade was an immediate thought, the Brahma Bull opted for a different approach. Capitalizing on his youthful adversary's distraction with thinning out his bestial cronies, the Fourth Horseman quickly removes the safety clips from his M67 fragmentation grenades prior to pulling the pins, straightening them as they emerge and pulling the grenades away from the pins, heaving the cluster of detonative projectiles at his elementally-gifted opponent, unconcerned with having his explosives aerokinetically redirected towards him, his iconic durability affording him the ability to withstand and endure physical punishment like no other. As a combined 32.5 ounces of composition B explosive and steel fragments sought to bombard his armed opponent, the Brahma Bull's attention fell upon another. A diving jet-plane containing a gross quantity of C-4 came for him, violently crashing into his leviathan frame.

The aerial vessel's impact energy blasted the wind from his lungs and drove him into the ground, fracturing a rib, lacerating his flesh and vehemently bruising his body. Abruptly however, the plane's C-4 detonated, speedily decomposing to release nitrogen and carbon oxides among other gases as they expanded at an explosive velocity of 26,550 feet per second, the explosion scorching away flesh and heating his bones without mercy. The beauty of C-4 however, aside from its stability and insensitivity to physical shocks, was that following the initial explosion, its gases rushed back toward the center of the explosion, triggering a second, inward wave of energy, one that further wounded the warmongering Fourth Horseman, portions of his flesh seared and blackened, the pain torturous, but his indignation, his rage, exceeded all other factors. And so as he struggled to his feet, the permeating smoke from the plane's crash and the C-4 detonation veiling his hulking frame, showcasing only a silhouette of irate eyes of glowing red.

Armed with one of the Autocrat's unique P4CK assault rifles, a fully-automatic, air-cooled, gas-operated, magazine-fed weapon with a magazine size of 60 rounds, an ammunition of 600, and a rate of fire of 900 RPM, the Gothic City Nightmare's eyes fell upon his secondary opponent. Cocking the firearm prior to taking aim and firing the opening shot, the gases from the first round and from those that followed, impinged upon a gas piston, pushing back the bolt carrier, rotating the bolt inside and chambering rounds until the magazine was emptied. A barrage of M118 7.62x51mm armor-piercing, FMJ rounds surrounded by molded jackets of titanium, with carbide tips, and coated in copper over their titanium shells blitzed towards the Brahma Bull's katana-wielding opponent, the Guerrilla Guevara immediately superheats the fired rounds' metal jackets, encasing them in his scorching black flames as they threatened to violently pepper and burn his arriving adversary, the monstrous bass of his voice roaring for all to hear. "Your heroes, your idols will fall as I play the role of Abraham!".

#3 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@_allstar_: @eliminator_omega_returns: @cassius_knightfall:

The ostentatious altruist, otherwise known as Allstar announced his intercepting ingress with verbal grandiosity, claiming this and that regarding his intention to bring forth a premature end to the Brahma Bull's ideologically-driven crusade of carnage. Needless to say, the Gothic City Nightmare laughed. Again, and again, and again. The monstrous, resolute bass of his profound, menacing voice conveying his succinct fit of amusement. "So a great gold and gleaming gimp offers himself to me like a lamb for the slaughter". While two of his accompanying monstrosities fell prey to the incandescent indignation of the socially charismatic Allstar's opening, energy-based assault, the evolutionary extremist would come to prove a foe of frightening resilience.

Confident in his abilities, the gold-festooned advocate for justice blitzed forward, summoning his inherent physical power, imparting blistering speed into his ensued attack as his athletic frame accelerated towards the Guerrilla Guevara with breathtaking velocity, his foot positioned to viciously slam into the Brahma Bull's exposed jaw with three tons of knockout power. And so as Allstar sped closer and closer, the Brahma Bull's tame amusement quietly faded from his disposition, his soulless, unblinking eyes glowing a petrifying red, projecting an oppressive, domineering aura. Though ebullient in its execution, Allstar's attack bore no fruits, his foot slamming into the Fourth Horseman's jaw yet yielding no discernible result, three tons of force while lethal, was of no concern to one of the Brahma Bull's physical might, not even of sufficient power to garner a subtle jerk of the head from the Strigidae Precursor.

Soon the arrival of another drew his attention. A towering robotic titan immediately claiming allegiance to the Brahma Bull's cause, and expressing its arousal at the prospect of aggrandizing the carnage destined to consume Washington DC come the Harbinger of Death's imminent arrival. Allstar, while a commendable hero, fell so beneath the Brahma Bull's acknowledgement that he could neither see nor hear him. A lion does not sink its claws into the throat of a wandering blowfly. It simply swats the insect away with an aloof flick of the tail. And with the enthusiastic Eliminator's eagerness to contribute to the foreshadowed deaths, the Brahma Bull employed the robotic Goliath as his tail. "Kill him". He instructed, and so the synthetic titan followed, perhaps under its own accord as it unleashed an attack of unrelenting ruthlessness against the apparently outgunned Allstar.

Prioritizing his promised conquest of Washington DC over dismembering a lone hero, the Brahma Bull left his vibrant opponent to the mercy of the Eliminator while elsewhere, an associate in the Rogue Knightfall, Cassius sought to facilitate the coming invasion's progress through his expert implementation of trickery and deceit. Riding forward, the fog of black death growing thicker and wider as it rolled behind his army of nightmare creatures now short of two, the Fourth Horseman's approach grew closer to the city's borders, his arrival as certain as the arrival of his two least expendable cronies, Strigidae 100 and the Autocrat, both leading their respective forces into the city via other entry points. And as the Brahma Bull continued forward, his eyes transfixed on the emergent sight of his target city, homicidal hunger burned in the pit of his stomach, tonight the Moon's blood would rain upon Washington DC and paint the American capital red.

#4 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

If there was ever a moment to serve as the culmination to every assault the Brahma Bull has launched on American soil, every pillage of targeted cities, it was his imminent ingress in Washington DC. Fueled by an evolutionarily-fueled ideology of the most radical declarations, the Brahma Bull believed, that man-made laws were fabricated concepts used to hold back the few genetically superior individuals, that chaos and disorder went hand in hand with one true law decreed by nature itself, that in a world dictated by ruthlessness and ever-present danger, the strongest will uncover a means of survival, and the weaklings? They shall perish.

This was to be the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare's new world, his anarchist utopia governed only by one law, 'Survival of the Fittest'. And so he who was once صفر, a monstrous Goliath identified by forgotten Arcani legends as 'Strigidae Zero', the precursor to those who don the iconic title, marched forward, an unyielding trail of carnage to be left in his wake. His army of fanatical followers was segmented. The movement of one gargantuan unit was a tactically ill-equipped approach incompatible with the demands of guerrilla warfare's insistence in implementing smaller units of greater maneuverability. One portion, the armed paramilitary mutant radicals that had become his most iconic cronies, was led by his least expendable follower, the Autocrat, who sought to enter the American metropolis from one side.

The undead warriors raised by the Harbinger of Death however, were led by his most fanatical crony, Strigidae 100, their attention remained on locating a secondary entry into their target city. While the Brahma Bull, the vile Gothic City Nightmare rode the hulking, Pale Horse of biblical significance. It was large and powerfully built, yet its flesh was decayed, rotting like the body of a waning corpse. Its color was pallid, mirroring the sickly pallor of the dead. Mounting his supernatural beast, the Brahma Bull rode, a taciturn black mist, a rolling onyx fog followed behind him as the leviathan extremist led those rallied to his side into yet another night of carnage. The Autocrat commanded genetically gifted guerrilla soldiers, while Strigidae 100's word was law among the undead terrorists he led.

Accompanying the Brahma Bull however, were monsters, nightmare creatures of unrelenting savagery and dread, that even they exceeded his penchant for brutality. The air burned hot in their lungs as their large, herculean frames strode alongside their warrior-prophet, their urge to dissolve into an all-consuming moment of blood-lust tempered only by their fear of the Gothic City Nightmare's indignation in response to disobedience. And so they remained quiet, their breaths escaping them with bestial pants, as dagger-like claws lengthened in anticipation of the coming violence. And so from three different entry points, the Brahma Bull and his followers sought to burst from, controlling several exit points and enclosing as much of the city as they could, the moon bleeding red, waiting, knowing that where the Brahma Bull walks, death follows.

#5 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

--This is an open RPG--

Black, smokeless Jinn-like flames breathed by the Brahma Bull are to consume the thriving metropolis. Fire destined to burn down the selected city, fire that the children of the weak and pitiful will be sacrificed in. He was the Beast, Mars the Roman God of War, the Fourth Horseman, the Harbinger of Death. Chaos and mayhem will be his instruments of destruction as he breaches walls, not in the name of peace and brotherhood. He will come to poison their water, enslave the weak, change their names, cage them, burn their homes, skin them alive so that nothing of the old world be left as he stands over the grave of another dead president and builds his new world upon the city ruins.

A destroyer, the Brahma Bull now seeks not simply to send a message with another ruthless showcase of his monstrous vehemence. His objective was not simply to destroy. It was finally to conquer. Washington DC was where the Mark of the Beast, of the Brahma Bull, would identify the first constituent of his empire.

Rules

  1. I'll repeat it again, this is an open RPG
  2. Standard RPG Rules apply
  3. This is an invasion. I'll have BB start out away from the city (Washington DC) so that whoever chooses to oppose him can attempt to prevent him and his forces from crossing its border and entering the city.
  4. Have fun :)
#6 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

--Where the Brahma Bull walks, death follows. And where death follows, his fanatical cronies, those who have submitted their free will and sense of individuality to the Harbinger of Death walk and preach the most radical of evolutionary ideologies--

Temple Origins

Before the domineering baron of brutality known as the Brahma Bull, before the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, there was only صفر, a monstrous Goliath with a penchant for conflict and ruthlessness fueled by a radical evolutionarily-founded ideology unlike any other before it. Not since the founding of the Arcani has the Brahma Bull identified himself as the mythical progenitor of the Strigidae. And it was in the uncharted landscapes of the Amazon Rainforest that Strigidae Zero was rediscovered, his unyielding path of destruction to set on a taciturn settlement in the still night.

There was no concept of mercy as his followers emerged. The violence that his former cronies once employed as tools of terror paled in comparison to the carnage the Cult of صفر unleashed upon the defenseless camp. They ripped out the throats of their victims with their teeth, and gorged on their steaming blood with hungry, bestial snarls. He laughed murderously as they plucked out the eyes of the terrified, wailing victims, their tortured cries lasting long into the night. No life remained in the settlement as the hulking revolutionary strode into the dark, he and his followers drenched in blood and lit by the lurid glow of the encompassing conflagration. Where he walked, death would follow.

His taste for blood and domination to be sated only once he has wiped the plague of the foul hominid, the genetic degenerates, and the weaklings of the mutant race from the face of the Earth. Until his ideological vision is realized, chaos would be wreaked upon the existence of both man and mutant. He would wipe away all in his path in a red mist, a rolling crimson fog that would erase everyone and everything in his path as he strode along in front of it, a menacing giant that would laugh heartily at the screams and cries of the doomed. And it would be from this mist that his kingdom would be erect.

A perfection reflection of the Militant Monster. His would be a frightening kingdom of slag and burning skies, and gelid air. A desecrated, decaying place washed in blood and smeared with excrement. His undead thralls, the raised corpses of victims and his followers alike would roam freely, counted as servants of the Brahma Bull. He will continue to be a force of strife and misery until his ideal world meets creation. His world would begin with the Temple of صفر. The Temple of Strigidae Zero.

The Cult

--Ready to intercept the ignorant wanderer and curious journeyman are the Brahma Bull's cronies. A collection of paramilitary mutant radicals undead and living, wielding the destructive tools of modern weaponry stride all about the dense greenery of the Amazon rainforest in perpetual observation of their surroundings.

Fanatical scholars and ideological slaves religiously worship and revere the self-proclaimed Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare, their unblinking eyes feverishly studying every weathered page detailing the militant Goliath's past as the ceaselessly elusive Strigidae Zero while the more nefarious and perverted of his followers reside deeper within the eternal pit that is the Brahma Bull's temple.

Their hearts pound in their chests as their sweat runs cold down their back. The light they see is too bright, too vivid. Smells they have never noticed before have suddenly grown overpowering, and the faintest of sounds are deafening. There is fear. Followed by disorientation and torturous pain as their bones lengthen and their bodies contort and finally the urge to kill in the all-consuming lust for blood.

They isolate themselves in the temple's darkest corners, the air burning their lungs, their claws are razors, their teeth? Daggers. Conscious thought fades as they become his now. His hounds. His commands burn within their minds as they wail their despair at the blood red moon when it festoons the dark sky.

They will kill any who oppose their prophet. They are beasts, nightmare creatures of such savagery and dread, that only they were fit to spread the unrelenting violence of the Brahma Bull's ideology--

Rules

  1. No godmodding
  2. Anyone can post here but the temple's location is meant to be very difficult to discover. If you don't sell the difficulty in locating the temple and just appear out of thin air, I'll ignore your post.
  3. You can come here to do whatever. Attack it etc. but if you want to cause major destruction, PM my La_Espada account.
  4. Sell the security here. Most of them are mutants while a portion of them are bestial in nature. Don't show up and start whooping everybody's ass just cause you can because your powers make you all that. If you do, your post might as well not even exist on this thread.
  5. Have fun ;)
#7 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@peak: (Assign Santi a task of guarding an item or whatever during the attack ;P)

Satisfied with the palpable yet partial success of his transitionally fluid attacks, Santiago swiftly shifted his focus into a momentary defensive approach, drawing himself into a tighter, less exposed stance in anticipation of a counter from the hooded savant. Appropriately re-positioned, the Madrid Viper sought to wind his spear in a large circular motion, directing the sharpened spearhead towards the blade of his adversary's short-sword with the objective of using the momentum of the spear's circular swing to knock the sword from his opponent's grip. Yet he did not complete the maneuver. Instead he performed a quick retreating back-step, avoiding confrontation altogether, his attention now focused elsewhere.

Forsaking his stance, the Spaniard's eyes gazed upon the encompassing sea, it's stillness was unnerving, the ambient silence from nature unsettling, the abruptness of the aromatic shift heralded something. The Brahma Bull, the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse's ingress was at hand. There was a red mist that slowly but surely crept into the atmosphere, a rolling fog of vermilion terror, as red as blood, consuming all in it's path, and then, it emerges. A ship it seemed, identical in it's physical dimensions to the Voyager, but in it's center stood a murderous Goliath with crimson orbs for eyes. To his right, to his left, and to his back, his obedient followers, those belonging to his cult in reverence of himself, Strigidae Zero, stood in quiescence.

Their hearts pound in their chests as their sweat runs cold down their back. The light they see is too bright, too vivid. Smells they have never noticed before have suddenly grown overpowering, and the faintest of sounds are deafening. There is fear. Followed by disorientation and torturous pain as their bones lengthen and their bodies contort and finally the urge to kill in the all-consuming lust for blood. They approach the edges of the ship, the air burning their lungs, their claws are razors, their teeth? Daggers. Conscious thought fades as they become his now. His hounds. His commands burn within their minds as they howl their despair at the now blood red moon. They will kill tonight. As was in the nature of werewolves. They had become beasts, nightmare creatures of such savagery and dread, that only they could spread the indignation of the Brahma Bull's black flames.

#8 Posted by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@peak: After we finish the Espada-Peak spar, do you mind if BB attacks this ship? I wanna set something up ;)

#9 Posted by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

@amphetamines: @dark_vengeance_:

The Jade Goliath was furious, his sky-shattering roar further deteriorating the Brahma Bull's disrupted sense of hearing, yet the Militant Monster, even standing before two adversaries, refused to fluster, and instead he relished. Predatory, vermilion eyes pulsated with palpable earnestness. Not one soul in the world would prevent, would stop him from realizing his vision, from bringing all societal norms, conventions and structures to their knees, and bowing them before his ideology of mutant supremacy. Amphetamines, Dark Vengeance, these were no opponents, they were victims. Sheep. And today the Lord was not their shepherd. The only deity guiding them to the slaughterhouse was Death. And in the form of Strigidae Zero, Death had come.

So it began, a bout to be remembered. With Amphetamines devoid of control and operating as a weapon of destruction, it mattered little to the Brahma Bull whether or not he would face defeat or surmount this handicap, for with the malachite monster beyond self-restraint, death would be spread, and more, more souls of the perished will be entrapped inside his wooden gourd, the souls of those who would serve as the slaves of his nation. He had not come to conquer, not for Philadelphia, not for Pennsylvania, not for the United States. The Brahma Bull was a collector of souls, this war served nothing more as an instrument, a tool, a means to an end, The souls of Philadelphia's fallen would be his to command, and once he frees Amaranth, gathers the Strigidae under him as he once did many years ago, and raises his army of the damned, then the world will know true conquest when he comes in the name of mutant brotherhood to dominate the globe.

Violently and with thunderous force, the soles of Amphetamines' feet collided against his masked features, the kinetic energy and monstrous power of the dropkick, blasting him across the battlefield. And as he rose, instinctively shaking his head in an attempt to alleviate the pain gripping his cranium, spheres of palpable darkness peppered his leviathan frame, heralding Dark Vengeance's emergent assault as the bat-themed vigilante commenced a barrage of graphic slashes, viciously tearing away at the flesh on the Gothic City Nightmare's back. With a torn ACL from Lady Liberty's earlier assault, as well as his disrupted balance, his movement was severely impaired, and thus, he could not appropriately punish his opponents from committing the mistake of engaging him within range where he slaughters and dismantles, there were no spinning elbows threatening to lacerate his adversary beyond facial recognition, no bullying clinch grappling, his injured ACL awarded no permission.

And so, the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare made use of his most potent assault, hellfire. Black, supernatural flames of unrelenting heat radiated from his injured frame, expanding, growing, enveloping all that was around him, burning up the surrounding oxygen as temperatures rose, several thousands of degrees Celsius intent on enveloping both his opponents and reducing them to ash. Though this was a losing battle, and the Brahma Bull knew this, yet still he grinned. For no matter how many times the opposition believe themselves to be victorious, no matter how many times he disappears, he would always return, and could they deter him for all eternity? Or would they eventually crumble under the pressure of an unrelenting, undying monster?

#10 Edited by Brahma_Bull (253 posts) - - Show Bio

Posted. I'll get to the other ones a bit later.