Post by Ezzy on Aug 6, 2015 16:44:26 GMT -5
Season two, Prolog (The fox in a suit)
How long had it been since he had traveled the endless wastelands? The years always seemed to build up without his full awareness leaving him amidst confusion and wonder lust as he pushed through the storm of sand. Ezreal chose to walk across the desert of his homeland in adult form. However he chose to alter himself further then he normally would, He stood seven feet tall with a slender build that slowly moved against the wind. His normal Kimono was replaced with a suit of black silk that flapped in the wind. The his right was his Zanpaktou in a full six foot length for the first time in years. His eyes both glowed a bight gold as the black cloth was kept as a muffler to filter some of the sand out of the air. His platinum hair was fully grown down to his waist where nine six foot tails rustled like his cloths. This day was the first of seven he would endure for this trip to find her once again. The thought he would see her once again filled his hollowed soul with the slightest of joy and endless amounts of wrath. She had left him alone all those years ago in this infernal place to die and now he sought revenge.
Fate always gave him a chance to warp up and try to simmer down before his true pray. His ears twitched at the faintest sounds of approaching threats. He could only hear their shouting, six of them but that was not the only threats approaching him. Others had picked up his leaking Reiatsu, not like it would bother him as he held the handle of his Zanpaktou and inhaled slowly. Eye slowly peeled open as the storm scattered from a flare of his own Reiatsu. Ezreal was in no mood to fight and hide his location as he pushed forward leading the foes into his view. The dunes slowly moved from his power willing them to give the foes the supposed advantage of high grounds against the single pray at the middle of it all. Below the sand however Ezreal was hard at work constructing sand crystal spikes for his arriving guest. "Battles can be decided by the ground alone, the true fight however is won by the person who set up first." Ezreal's words had been hollow and almost ghost like as his focus was placed on his power and the traps as the hollows began poking up from the opposite side of the sand dunes he had set for them.
The group enclosed around Ezreal, most would call this the end for the one in the middle but a large grin exposing Ezreal's fangs said he thought otherwise. His left foot rose before slamming down and hitting the crystal trigger plate that began the reaction. The first hollow shouted out as the ground caved in under it and the body was left impaled by the heated sand spikes. One by one the other hollows in the ring suffered similar fates, some impaled, some crushed from both sides, and some even cut clean in two. The bodies massed up as more hollows seemed to come out of the wood work. Ezreal chuckled as his right hand drew his Zanpaktou and the once white blade was covered in a black liquid as faces shot out from the blade at hollows and began to eat away the masses. Ezreal was not going to stay distant as he ran forward, his left hand slamming down as the large dunes shot outward disrupting and confusing the hollows footing. This was how it always was, The clear difference he always etched with planning rather then strength, The years he poured into study of tactics and planning came to bloom as he rushed forward sword and chain to etch his name across the white desert in the blood of his kind.
Paragraph count: 3
GP gain: 8.693
GP total: 8
