IC: Daedalus, 6/20
This was the end (cue sad music).
Chro's dramatic display of fire began its attack, with a fireball hurtling down toward Daedalus. He dove to the side, avoiding the fireball--or so he thought. As he started to roll out of the dive, he felt a scalding tendril envelope his leg (-1 HP, 5/20). With a scream, Daedalus paused, his body aching, his mind whirling. Another fireball was heading in his direction. Gritting his teeth, Daedalus stood, ignoring the pain in his leg. He fired concentrated blast after concentrated blast at Chro. He knew he wouldn't get out of this alive but he hoped to do as much damage as possible to his--
Something burst on his back. Something hot (-3 HP, 2/20). Daedalus stopped firing blasts at Chro and stood still. He closed his eyes, lowered his arms, and stood perfectly still. The pitter-patter of rain took over all of his senses. Each drop was a musical note, haunting and terrifying, yet simultaneously comforting and inviting. The once-freezing drops were now merely cool, soothing his burning body. The distant cracks of thunder were ominous strikes on a drum, signifying the end. But Daedalus was not afraid. No, he was not afraid.
Another strike on the drum, a flash of fiery light, and Daedalus was enveloped (-2 HP, 0/20). He did not feel the flames, he did not feel the bullets as they struck his back. For a few more moments, he simply was. He was a halo of fire and light in a storm of rain and darkness, and for a moment, right there, when the last few notes were being played, when the drum beat one last time, Daedalus was at peace.
Edited by (Daedalus), Apr 28 2014 - 11:35 AM.
By the grace of Etro, arise great and mighty giant. Come forth, thee who shoulders the sky.
A name in blood, a pact of strength. Hecatoncheir shall rise, his bond eternal and unyielding.
Impure hands purge arms that fortify weakness.