Reaper Prometheus

Dealing with the Old Woman

artimys:

reaper-prometheus:

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. 

A momentary dream. As much of a dream as it could be: Nowhere. Alone. Except not alone. A pair of eyes. Eyes always on his back. Turn back. No one. Silent, except the crackle of fire; screams in the distance. The sudden sensation. A foreign one; long forgotten: Dread. Fear.

For the most part, Prometheus tossed such things over his shoulder; like the unwanted bones after a meal. They hit the floor and were swept away by time. There was a method and an orderly way to deal with these rare things. But the broom couldn’t keep up with those eating. The little cluster of troublesome things had begun to build up in his head. 

How many times now? How many has it been?

To have suffered so many heavy hits; to have returned so greatly damaged after so many battles, it was a wonder the old lady had been able to put him back into one piece. He wished he hadn’t. Dealing with the old woman was almost more work than walking around wounded. Almost. The pain was nearly equal, in his opinion. 

In the end, it was just another shot to his pride. A terribly sick and wounded pride. Especially in dealing with that cricket. That was the worst. At least he knew he left the other reploid to die. That sat well in his chest. There was that female reploid as well, but…the damage he retained in those fights was far too much. Losing too much, gaining too little.

Prometheus shifted position on the roof; sitting up from his more relaxed spot. Enough waiting around and getting repaired. His hand shifted to his stomach; there’s been a gaping wound there not that long ago. That feeling hadn’t left him just yet. He wasn’t forgetting anytime soon.

I’m not going to lose. I don’t lose.

He jumped up and stretches his arms up high into the sky. A few swings of his scythe at the air and then he was ready to go. Time to find the old woman. They had unfinished business; long overdue.

The said old woman is sitting at a table in the main room inside the house, humming while drinking her tea out of a thermos. Ah… such a nice day, hm? She smiles softly, enjoying the aroma of a green tea mixed with sugar. As far she is concerned, the weather is warming up a little. But it is still damn cold. 

One of the things that happen to her lately was the constant repairing of a certain someone and a repair on that certain someone’s victim. It annoyed her to some degree. But then that said certain someone had told her that he is her boss. Hah. Time to time she would call him that either being serious or for a joke. Most of the time it was on the latter. That kid needs to learn how to respect and all. She chuckles at that thought.

But then…

He isn’t so bad after all. Especially when he tries to help her whenever she needed it. Not bad for the one called the Reaper who wants to kill everyone. Artimys takes another sip from her tea filled thermos.

// ;; Shorter post than you. //

It was simple really. A hop, skip and a jump down the roof to the street level; around the back of the house of course. Less attention. For just a moment, he considers downing one of the walls; blasting a window, but in the end, he selects the door to enter from. He tears it open and slams it shut. 

“Old woman!” he barks loudly. Carried away without thinking, he heads for the kitchen. For a very long moment, he simply stares at her; glaring just slightly.

Now. How much does she owe me? 

More than once he can recall telling the old hag to fight him. None of that sparring crap like the first few times. No, a real fight. No quitting. No mercy. Just someone dead at the end of someone’s else. She wasn’t useless in a fight; a little different from other humans. It was interesting to him. To see a human go toe to toe with him and not simply jump into his blade was something of a rarity. 

He had no intention of preserving that however. The old hag grew mouthier by the day. A tool should be a tool and not talk back. 

Still, she was the only tool around he could get to do those repairs…

Maybe I’ll just maim her terribly today. Put her in her place.

After was was probably a very long stare-down, Prometheus grins. “Outside,” is his direct order. 

((Even shorter. Brain broke. XD))

Showdown With Prometheus (@AskPrometheus)

red-mega-man-giro:

reaper-prometheus:

red-mega-man-giro:

reaper-prometheus:

red-mega-man-giro:

reaper-prometheus:

red-mega-man-giro:

The skulls eventually fizzled out of existence, but now Giro had those pillars to contend with again, and these seemed faster than last time.  And Prometheus’ goading wasn’t helping.

Dancer on the battlefield… thought Giro, his mind wandering slightly.  I guess I was hanging around Aeo too long…wait…

Snatches of his spar with Aeolus came back to him.  The swirling pillars of fire were similar to the tornado attack the Wind Megaman used, just there were two and it was dangerous to even touch them.  Acting fast, Giro swung the Z-Saber with all his might and slammed it into the ground, cracking the earth and dislodging large chunks of it.  He kicked the chunks of rock into the spiraling infernos, then leapt into the air and kicked them toward Prometheus.

The two pillars converged on him, and for a moment, all Giro could feel was unbearable heat.  He almost screamed, but bit back on his voice; he couldn’t show weakness.  Not now.

A quick slash of the saber and the now monstrous flame dissipated.  Giro took a moment to assess his new wounds.  Burns covered a good deal of his body, having gotten through his armor and bodysuit to the artificial “skin” below, and some of his hair had been singed, but he was still alive, still able to stand.  The visor was warped from the intense flames, distorting his vision to the point that, although he knew Prometheus was straight ahead, it seemed that he was off to the side, at an angle.

Wait…that’s not my visor… thought Giro.  He realized his head had lolled over to the side, but as he tried to move it, his neck let out a thousand shrieking complaints.  He pressed his hand to the side of his neck, and when he removed it, he saw blood.  Wha…?  What hit me?!

Prometheus watched his flames close in on the red megaman. He’s not moving out of the way? What an idiot. A firey death for the one who came back. Seemed fitting somehow. He started to let his guard down when something just barely caught his eye. What is that?

He was clocked in the was face the with a huge chunk of rock. It was enough to send him toppling over backwards. Dizzily, he picked himself up. 

That guy? Where? His vision spun for a few moments as he used his scythe to stand up straight. Was he roasted? He damn well better have been roasted; Prometheus felt like a sitting duck. 

Focus. Focus.

Giro would have another moment; that rock to the head seemed to have disoriented him greatly.

((Sorry it takes me awhile sometimes. ;w; I tend to try not to answer longer posts while I’m drawing. ;w; I don’t forget you, don’t worry!))

The rock hit Prometheus with impressive force, moreso than the one that hit Aeolus that day.  Giro smirked mentally.  Stunned him, he assessed, noting that Prometheus couldn’t stand up straight and his vision seemed to be wavering a little.  Perfect chance to catch him off guard.

Giro charged forward, then strafed over to the right, ignoring the complaints his burned body gave him.  He had to end this now; another attack and he might not be getting back up.  Please, body, just hang on a little longer… he pleaded mentally.

Just steps away from Prometheus, however, his vision blacked for a moment.  A surge of pain shot up from his neck where his wound was.  Giro guessed what it was, just from the sudden burning sensation that surged up to his head.  When he set up the boulders, a fragment had broken off and lodged in the side of his neck, next to his shoulder.  It wasn’t a large piece, and it didn’t seem life-threatening, but he didn’t dare pull it out now; it seemed to be the only thing that stopped the bleeding.

Willing his body to keep moving, he swung the Z-Saber up on a diagonal toward Prometheus.

((OOC: Oh, OK.  I didn’t know that.  Sorry.))

Just barely getting his senses back, Prometheus mostly heard Giro coming at him. 

Damn. Not roasted.

Something seemed to be slowing the reploid down though. He hadn’t hit him that hard yet, had he? Just the fire…perhaps that had some kind of deep effect on him. That would be for the better really. He made up his mind to continue pummeling Giro with heat; get a good fire going. Keep it going.

His eyes still seeing the world in a fog, he managed to make out the basic form of the saber soon to be swung his way. The direction based on the way it was pointed…

Not prepared to dodge just yet, he held out the staff of his scythe to catch the blade at his side before it could drive into him. No more being stabbed. That wound in his shoulder was still pounding. It would make it a little difficult for him to hold Giro’s blade back. 

((Oh please don’t apologize. XD Its my fault…I wind up drawing and I get kinda caught up in it sometimes…Its my fault for be a space cadet. XD))

Giro grunted as his shoulder jerked over from Prometheus’ parry.  It hurt, but he couldn’t let that slow him down.  That rock would just have to sit there until the fight was over and he could remove it…or Prometheus killed him, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

One of Prometheus’ arms wasn’t holding up right.  Giro noted that it was the one he wounded with the stab through the shoulder.  Perfect!

Giro used the two locked weapons as a brace and sprung upward.  He pivoted in midair, aiming to kick Prometheus’ shoulder with enough force to probably disable it for a time.

((I’m kind of a space cadet myself, so I suppose I can relate.))

Blade and staff locked and for a moment the pressure caused more blood to ooze out of his open shoulder wound. It was becoming fairly obvious to both him and his opponent that he had a gaping weak spot. Of course he would take advantage of that. Prometheus knew that. He knew the whole time, but failed to protect himself. 

As Giro’s kick connected with his shoulder, he switched grasp of his scythe into one hand. It was expected. He stumbled back and his hand would have let the scythe fall. He still had one good arm. 

His shoulder felt like it was nearly being torn out. But he knew it wasn’t that bad. He would have to lay off using it for awhile though. Not good. To be down an arm in a fight like this…

Still, he had a level of single handed scythe-play. There was still plenty of room. Once he caught himself out of his stumble he swung his scythe with his good arm; a quick upward swing toward Giro.

((Space cadets unite? XD))

There was a rather satisfying feel to feeling Prometheus’ arm shift down sharply from the force of Giro’s kick.  When his arm dropped limp, Giro knew he’d gotten a pretty good hit.  Giro jumped back a bit to put some room between himself and Prometheus, but when he landed, he felt something was wrong.

Something in his knee shifted, causing it to nearly buckle.  Giro guessed the force of the attack jarred something.  Not now.  Not now!  He couldn’t let himself give Prometheus any more openings than he already did.

Still concerned about the condition of his knee, Giro didn’t even notice the scythe until it was almost too late.  It was too fast to block, so he had to try dodging, but his knee refused to move.  He leaned back, trying to avoid the scythe’s arc, but he was too slow.  The tip of the blade caught his abdomen, and the force of the swing caused Prometheus to open a gash from Giro’s stomach to his sternum, deeper at the entry point.

Giro doubled over as artificial blood oozed from the gash.  He started coughing up some of said blood, realizing that he was now in serious trouble.

((OOC: Space cadets unite.  *high five*))

Prometheus knew that feeling. As soon as his scythe’s blade even flirted with the other reploid’s skin; he knew he had a good hit in. He drew the full crescent of his blade and once it reached the highest up point in his arc over his head; he pushed back a few steps. They were misguided and a little clumsy, but he managed.

One handedly, he spun his scythe blade downward in his hand, only to re-grip it defensively. He wasn’t quite sure if his enemy was functional enough to come after him. It was blurry, but he wasn’t very sure. His eyes could make out the blade in his hand fairly well, but the rest was hard to say.

He heard coughing. He must’ve hit something important. Ha.

Maniacal laughter poured out of his mouth. “What was that again? Tell me again, Megaman; weren’t you going to prove something?” He stumbled back a few more steps, holding his head and scythe with his one good arm. His eyes couldn’t seem to get back into focus, his head felt like someone was drilling out of it. 

((Hurray~ *fives*))