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dramadramaduck2012-02-11 12:36 pm
31; The Descending Battle, Round 3; What Is Wrong With All Of You;
Kefka and a young woman are pouring over a map in a small, ornate room decorated with red tapestries. The woman is nodding as Kefka speaks.
“If you go to Jidoor, most of them are too rich to think of your dietary needs in a way other than a quirk; if you want, I can find a matchmaker and that’ll take care of supporting yourself. You said you enjoyed being a trophy wife, so I’m sure you’ll be able to find one here like you did with Ozaki. And there’s enough butchers around that you can get blood from there, which negates the danger of having to get it on your own. It’s not like this world cares about vampires, we’ve got a dozen more deadly types of undead running arou -”
Kefka is interrupted by Dead Master showing up and abruptly slicing off the woman’s head off. She stares into space, surprised, for a moment before crumbling into dust.
“What is wrong with you?” Kefka snaps, as appalled as if someone had spilled gravy on his shirt. “She wasn’t a threat to anything but Ozaki’s pride, geez. I can’t believe you like him that much, ugh! His hemming and hawing has gotten half the village killed; we could have fixed things in an hour if he wasn’t such a coward. What’s the appeal?”
Dead Master says nothing. Does nothing. Simply stares at him. Kefka’s face flushes a red darker than his face paint, his face creasing up in rage.
“Stop that! Answer me!” Kefka snaps. She does not reply. He’s shaking now, his thin shoulders quaking, and his stance gets more hostile the longer she stares, bunching up into a combat-ready stance. Until -
“You you you you you you you traitor traitor traitor – get out get out GET OUT!” Kefka shrieks, and punctuates the last two words with a fireball flung at Dead Master.
She reacts instantly, bringing down her scythe to slice the fireball in two. Flames wash uselessly around her as she twirls, slicing the next fireball in half. Kefka is throwing fireballs, ice spears, and chunks of rock at her, stepping back each time to give each attack more space to speed up, put space between the long range piece of tissue paper and the close range master of death, his back twisting more warped with each step, his eyes turning the color of fresh blood, and –
Doc Scratch appears in a swirl of emerald. With a snarl of GET OUT, Kefka tosses a fireball at him as well, stepping back
into
He unbalances, falls back, disappears into a sea of emerald. The light firms up into Doc Scratch, who puts a finger to where his mouth should be.
Dead Master just stares, the last vestiges of flame dying on her scythe.
[ooc: Doc Scratch teleported Kefka right over a huge sun. WELP. Kefka's not dead since he can fly, but he will be mia for this post since he's lost like heck. DM killed the woman since she's a vampire.]
no subject
The difference is he can hate this opponent. For Kefka, they'll be attempts at ration rather than anything he believes. He doesn't care about how many lives were lost in the village, and pretending to is only an attempt to sway her to a way of thinking convenient to him. It's just a way to make him doubt himself.
It had to be done. Has to be done.]
Heh... Arguing against the rights of the undead on that kind of playing field. [He takes her hand, with an unusual firm, confident grip.] Seems like I have a thing for losing odds battles.
no subject
ridiculous in her eyes. no death or life is above the other. she still does not respond to him. the moment he touches her hand she worldhops them both to Yuri's afterlife.]
no subject