Elementubbies [Mission/ Closed]

Varro could understand the Elementubbies on a rudimentary level. Power, notoriety, and the mass murder—these were things capable of being both profitable and exceedingly fun. However, one needed to be rational with their judgments. Not a matter of morality, but timing and discretion. Otherwise, bigger fish in the pond tended to meander next to prey such as these, and swallow them whole just as they were completing their nefarious rise. For the assassin duo, it would prove to be an alluring and profitable venture.

He wondered what their blood would taste like. Elemental entities; he wagered he never tasted any before, or it was his memory failing him again.

Leaning against the cool rail with the sinewy part of his back, he kept his arms folded under his bare chest. Foregoing a shirt as he always did, his refined musculature was put on display for all to see. Being a vampire, he had a preference towards cooler climates, as though he were a variety of reptile. But weather conditions affected him less, though his manner of dress, only inclusive to a pair of green pants, boots, and a pendant sporting a simple fang, suited the current atmosphere. There were no notable armaments on his own person.

Though he possessed a much shorter mane of dark hair, the saline wind managed to billow it against his cheeks regardless. He was not doing this out of the kindness of his heart, but spurred on by his voracious appetite for destruction, blood, and money. Varro doubted it would lead him closer to recalling information about the individuals who wronged him in the past, but it was a welcomed detour to exercise his vile compulsions.

”I agree. The faster we get there, the more time that can be spent flaying them slow,” the man replied, venting his thoughts and attempting to gain insight on his partner’s point of view in return. There were killers who did it for different reasons than himself, but he was always curious if he spotted likeminded individuals.

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 1 | WC: 339/339

Craning his head in the direction of the woman, he proved his attentiveness at the most crucial times. Having prodded her with his statement beforehand, he was looking for reactions to gauge her receptiveness to the dark. Judging from the grin that paved its way along her fair visage, he must have been on the right track that the two were cut from a similar cloth. Little did he know, a lack of mortality may have been another commonality—but before he could ascertain such a thing, an interruption severed the atmosphere.

Attention drawn to the sudden whirlpool wreathed around their vessel, he gripped the metal railing with both hands to secure himself on the spot, much like his partner on the job. For the assassin, it was rare for someone to ambush him instead of the other way around, and it warped his intentions for the hostile parties to mutant extents. What bottomless well of cruelty he intended for them somehow expanded, the irritation surfacing in his eyes while his attention darted in the direction of the jaundice culprit.

”Motherfuckers…” Not just one, but two of them. Clicking his tongue, the Elementubbies had the advantage—for now. Maintaining balance in those conditions was a struggle, and he only had so much time to use the crumbling ship as a medium for the tactic he would attempt. Slicing his wrist on the rail, he tapped into his reservoir of Magic and acted as fast as he could. Pairing his regenerative capabilities with his Blood Magic, he poured a deluge of his blood down the side of the broken vessel.

Manipulating it and stretching it towards land, he clotted the blood to form a crude, makeshift platform for the duo to run on towards their destination—but with the raging waters, it would be a test of balance, and he only had a limited amount of time before it would dissolve against the crashing waves.

”We can use this, but only for so long,” Varro said, before vaulting over the side of the railing to land on the makeshift road, and attempt to make his way towards land on their shaky road.

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 2 | WC: 361/700

Another surprising display unraveled before the man after he landed on the dense platform of blood, pertaining to the woman taking the role of his partner for the insidious job. Landing on the solid crimson in an extravagant show of acrobatics, he raised his head in acknowledgment of the feat. However, he refrained from dallying. She advised bracing himself, and that was what he did.

One he witnessed and felt the heat of flames conjured from her hands, he melded the blood with his feet. For him, the substance would become like an adhesive to keep him in place while the woman used an infernal array to carve a path through the raging body of water. It was partially his job to maintain balance along the waves as the duo surfed through the water user’s adversity, before crashing against the shore hard enough to send them through the air.

Unsticking himself from the makeshift surf board, he dislodged and performed a front-flip through the air, landing with one hand paving its way through the sand and a knee bent. Pushing himself up from his momentary descent, he scanned the environment around him. Furrowing his brow at the additional numbers, he maintained his composure even against the odds. Despite the demon’s intention to turn them both into custard, he believed that the ones who were going to resemble a gory condiment at the end of the day were the four around them.

North, South, East, West—all of the directions were blockaded by one of the Elementubbies. He was impressed by his partner’s own composure against the odds, and he split his attention between watching her six and heeding the transfiguration burbling under her garb. The promise of the odds being evened on the horizon, he decided to prepare of his own while the woman worked to bolster their chances. Though, his mind became curious with what she had in store—was it some manner of spell slinging, or was a transformation being underwent?

Placing his lacerated wrist against the ground, the sands began to shift while he funneled what appeared to be his own blood underneath their saline crust. Tilting his head to the side, he added onto the woman’s own words, taunting the creatures.

”You’re reliant on your numbers, aren’t you? But I wonder, how will you know which of you will be shredded first?” Varro said dryly, his voice devoid of naught but an arctic chill. ”Maybe it’s you, Purple? Or maybe it’s the piss stain on the right?”

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 3 | WC: 421/1121

Pouring blood and spreading it under the sand, creating traps burbling beneath the surface, was not an effort that required the full extent of his attention. With the hostile parties occupied with the ghastly transformation the woman was undergoing, he was provided with more time to prepare for the inevitable. Saturating the field with his magic, he had more than enough time to condition it for his malicious exploits. However, he kept watching the alarming configuration with increasing interest.

From the mysterious inscriptions emerged eldritch black masses, each forming the shape of a delirious canine. Even he could imagine the agony such a change would induce on the owner, but the advantages it gained in compensation was more than enough to change their ill-fated numbers disadvantage. Towering over them, he never would have thought such power dwelt within her after thinking her magic was exclusive to fire. Rare as the display was, the man adorned a slender smirk while drinking in the sight and its implications. None of the events unfolding boded well for the Elementubbies.

After being thoroughly impressed by the show of might, he decided to spring into action himself and indulge the violence that followed. Indeed, these creatures were going to meet their fate—no doubt synonymous with their imminent destruction.

The man still needed to address the personal tactics he proposed, being more limited in his approach. Moving blood underneath the sands near the yellow one, it seemed as though he was about to launch an attack. Unfortunately, nothing happened. For the gesture was a feint, meant to exploit their horrified minds he guessed was muddled with horror from the woman’s transformation.

Instead, tendrils comprised of blood lashed out towards the green one. Lashing towards it, success would result in a grim display. With sickening force, he would bind its limbs with multiple tethers of adhesive red. Twisting until the sounds of snapped plywood tore the atmosphere asunder, he would not be satisfied unless he saw bones jutting out from connective tissue and marrow spilling out of splintered bones in thick rivulets. A follow up with other tendrils made an effort for its back, attempt to unzipper its upper layers of flesh and peel it away like an unwanted coat.

”You’re all going to be the same colour by the end of this. Now, bleed for us.”

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 4 | WC: 391/1512

There were people Varro didn’t like, and then there were people he did like. This woman ranked among those he did like, for she boasted all the qualities he enjoyed seeing in his fellow killers. Beautiful as the woman was already, it made her even more attractive.

Running his tongue over his lips while he felt a wave of heat from the inferno that consumed the creature he treated like an overripe orange, he watched as the flames charred the exposed sinew, wafting the thick stench of gamy, seared meat through the air. Inhaling though he did not need to breathe, he filled his nostrils with the aroma of death and ruin.

Even Varro needed to brace himself for the roar of thunder that emerged from the gaping, ravenous maw of the hellish hound who sought to turn another ill-fated demon into roast. After being cooked until its yellow fur was blackened with trauma, it was grabbed, pried until its mouth drew agape and an arm ferried into its stomach through its gullet.

Varro felt a wave of euphoria wash through his own person in that moment, laughter erupting from the once stoic man as he watched the bloodshed unfold before him. In his usually discreet occupation, it was rare for the assassin to get a chance to let loose. What semblance of sanity he managed to uphold with his pretense before was abandoned, as he found great pleasure and hilarity while he watched with eager eyes as she dislodged its jaw, rummaged around its innards, and retrieved its spinal column by way of its mouth. At this point, his mood was bleeding into outright arousal at the display.

The red creature attempted to get the surprise on him, but he was aware of its intention. Be it through enhanced physical senses or his extended sixth one by virtue of being a magic practitioner, he felt the generation of heat from a relocated red demon’s position. Though it managed to launch a raging torrent of flame, Varro redirected it. By using the tendrils to grab him from behind and pull him towards the ground, the beam fired towards the sky rather than at him.

Now, it was Varro’s turn to close the distance. Using his supernatural prowess as a vampire, he made his way towards Big Red in a blur of motion. While he bound the creature, he found the top of its head with his hand. The man’s intentions were mysterious at first, until he started to apply pressure to the top of its cranium while blood tentacles wrapped around its limbs and started turning them around until he heard the satisfying pops of dislocated joints and the tear of ligaments.

Moving the flow of his blood faster to pool even more of his brutish strength into his arm, blood began to seep from the eyes of the red demon as its brain began hemorrhaging from the pressure. Varro made quick incisions on either side of its neck, lubricating his windpipe with blood. Pouring a deluge of his might into his next motion, he drove the red one’s head into its torso, forming a bulge in its abdominal region as though it were pregnant with its own skull.

A wide grin on his face as he looked at the coarse stump the place where a neck once sat, he dug his nails into the fat, muscle, and skin barricading the head from sight. A handful of ribs in each hand, he tore towards each side until he exposed the full interior of the demon’s body; inclusive to a twisted layup of bloated organs. Within their midst was the being’s head, decorated with intestinal lining and flaps of skin from the exploded stomach.

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 5 | WC: 624/2136

The woman was not alone in her consumption of their enemies’ blood. Running his tongue along his arm, the vampire collected the bounty he desired and felt his levels of energy rising once more. Saccharine rust flooded his senses, a taste that, if denied of it, he felt he could not continue existing. Using his manipulation over the scarlet secretions, he controlled it towards him and seemed to absorb it through the pores on his skin. What euphoria he derived from the moment amplified severalfold, and he still wasn’t sated.

One left—now that numbers advantage was severely in their favor. Times could change in an instant, and the purple, hollering demon was not exception to the rule. Steering his attention towards the enraged, final member of the vivid task force, he listened to its outcries. Wiping a speck of blood off his own face, he flicked the remains of his friends towards him in the most nonchalant, dismissive, and apathetic manner imaginable.

Met with the manifestation of the purple one’s power in the form of torrential winds, he brought an arm closer to his face to brace himself for the sand his physiology was peppered with. A nod of appreciation followed when one of the hounds served as an aegis between himself and the external forces. From what he could discern, this was desperation; it was the creature’s trump card, and now he somewhat evened the numbers through forming elementals. Like his partner, Varro remained unfazed.

Listening to her words, she watched the being for its reaction. The acquisition of her blade boded poorly for the survivor, and he was curious to see what feats she would employ with it. Specifically, how this one would be butchered in the most tantalizing ways. Preparing, he drew his blood to the surface of his skin. Impossible amounts of thick, red liquid coalesced around him while his skin appeared to burst in different spots.

It formed a ghoulish armor around his frame, finalized with six additional limbs comprised completely of blood at his back, and a strange gridded mask enveloping his face—aside from his mane of black hair. His musculature was still on display, a skintight layer of crimson cemented over his chest and abdomen. Hunching over, he placed one hand against the sand as he lanced his gaze through all of their opposition.

”It’s good that the insect is this spirited,” Varro said, the additional blood limbs on his back clenching their fists until their brawn bulged with supernatural might. As he spoke, he began to walk in the direction of the adversaries. ”When picking off the wings of a fly, one of the best parts is watching it struggle.”

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Kiyomi Tenma | Post 6 | WC: 450/2586