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Post by Matthew Williams on Jul 9, 2011 18:36:37 GMT -5
Matthew stopped in his tracks as he watched the black mass become no more than a black puddle on the floor. In went without saying that he was throughly impressed by his brothers acrobatics. Alfred had always been the athletic one and it was plain to see how miuch that would help him in future battles within the Dark Hour.
However, the Canadian knew one thing about these creatures and that was their inability to die easily. If it were something less frightening he might have considered it a fascinating trait. But, there was little time to actually do anymore gawking.
"A-Al, lets go!" he cried, grabbing the elders wrist and fleeing up the stairs to the roof.
Once they had safely reached the space, Matthew shut the door with force and ushered his brother behind him. Holding his gun to his own head in preparation for when the thing would come up once more.
"L-listen, you c-can't beat these things b-by just luring them a-and beating them across the head." he said, a bit more sternly yet still holding that soft-spoken deamenor that those who knew Matt were accustomed to.
That familiar sploshing sound of the shadows movement caught the ear of the Canadian. And it was that noise that made him hold the gun that much tighter. "T-trust me, Al." he whispered.
What am I going to do... [/blockquote]
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 16, 2011 5:06:10 GMT -5
Alfred was yanked—literally—from his moment of disbelief as his brother grabbed at his wrist and began dragging him off to God knows where for the umpteenth time that night. He had to laugh at the seemingly growing worse situation as he was being pulled away, of course, because that was how he always dealt with things when he didn’t know how else to. “D-Dude, that thing must have a high health bar! It was literally a pancake a second ago!
Before he knew it, Matt had rushed him up the stairs, out the door and onto the roof. He glanced about, trying not to linger on the particularly horrifyingly colored sky any longer than he had to, all the while hoping his twin knew what he was doing. It seemed to Alfred that it would be even less safe outside of the dorm, because the Shadows had to have come from somewhere outside, right?
It was at that moment that he noticed something that almost blended in with the ghastly shade everything else was. It looked to him like a tower; a jarred, impossible looking and distorted tower. He had to wonder what it looked like during the daytime. Before he could ponder it any more, Matt’s voice was suddenly jarring him from his thoughts.
“Bro, I had to do something!” Alfred exclaimed, turning back to him and continuing to defend his earlier argument, because he was finding a way to help whether the other liked it or not. “It’s not like I could’ve just sat there, kicked back, made some noodles and maybe downloaded some porn while I waited for you to finish taking on that freaky thing by yourself!”
As he once again made his point, he didn't notice the sound of several other threats approaching from the opposite direction.
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Post by Matthew Williams on Jul 20, 2011 23:36:47 GMT -5
"B-believe it or not, but these shadows are actually w-weaker t-than most." he managed, continuing to hold his gaze on the door directly in front of the pair.
Matthew was not lying about the supposed low-health that the Maya posessed. And that was what made the situation that much more worrisome for the Canadian. It was clear that these shadows were not weak to ice-based attacks, and Matt did not posess the physical prowess to make his physical attacks do significant damage.
Yet, he would continue in his efforts.
Throughout his life, Alfred had been the one to protect him from bullies. One time, even a dangerous neighborhood dog that had escaped from it's yard. It was a terrifying, yet comforting memory. It was a big black and brown dog (a rotweiler, had Matthew known the term when he was younger.) Somehow, it managed to push the twins into a corner and Alfred valiantly stood infront of him, shielding Matt as he sobbed and cried. The dog snarled and growled, but somehow, Alfred had managed to scare it off and lead both of them home safely.
There was no sleeping alone for weeks and it was at that moment when they were kids that Matthew knew Alfred would always be there to protect him.
That was then and this was now. It was Matthew's turn to protect his brother tonight. And it was then that a thought struck him, he fired off his gun and casted Bufudyne, aiming it at the door and freezing it shut.
"I-I think that will h-hold it back until t-this is over." he breathed heavily, starting to feel the effects of losing mana.
Maybe his inner statement had been a bit premature, the Dark Hour had to end soon. He wouldn't be able to hold them back forever on his own. "A-Alfred, I-I don't think that's very appropriate..." he commented to the other's interesting explanation, turning slightly red at part of it.
He stopped, hearing sploshing noises from the side of the building. "D-do you hear that?" he stiffened, dreading this No, not more. [/blockquote]
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 26, 2011 21:18:37 GMT -5
Alfred had to frown at that. He couldn’t even defeat one of the weaker ones with a sidestep maneuver? He was really wishing he’d had something to smack it with. The old metal baseball bat he’d packed and dragged along with him was probably out of the question at that moment in time, though.
“Well, alrighty then, so what can we—?” The blond was about to question, careful to be sure he was still making it known to the other that he wasn’t just going to sit back and watch while he took care of it. Before he could finish speaking, however, his brother was shooting himself in the head again.
Alfred wasn’t sure he was anywhere near used to this yet, because he still flinched, but regardless, the door before them was suddenly very conveniently iced over.
“Wow.” He murmured, impressed.
It was still so hard for him to see his twin with these powers. It wasn’t as if he considered Matt weak, or anything like that. Nothing could be farther from the truth. While he might’ve been much quieter than others, more reserved and maybe even a bit of a pushover at times, Matt was one of the strongest people he knew. It was just that it seemed downright strange. Fictional, even. It would’ve been a shock to him regardless of who had the powers, when he actually thought about it. Alfred had always imagined how amazing it would be if these kinds of things, things that happened in comic books, TV shows and video games could happen in real life. While he was a bit of a dreamer, he’d also had his reality check a long, long time ago. It never occurred to him that these kinds of things would actually happen, and even they did, never to him.
When his brother paused, he froze, eying him confusedly.
“Dude, more?” He practically shouted, disbelief clear in his facial expression. He whipped around, eying the direction in which the grossening and odd sploshing noises that Matt pointed out to him were coming from.
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Post by Matthew Williams on Jul 29, 2011 23:02:59 GMT -5
It happened so quickly that Matthew had nary any time to react. The ice seemed to be holding the shadow imprisoned within the dormitory and out of the way of the themselves. It was a welcome change of pace instead of running from the massive Maya.
Turning around to look behind his shoulder, he watched as three more appeared. The masks staring at them much as porcelein doll sitting on a rocking chair in the corner of a little girls room. Just staring, waiting for the correct moment to make it's move. Luck not so much on the side of the twins, these were not lifeless dolls. These were menacing creatures that could destroy them very easily.
"Blue..." Matthew managed to breathe out.
How could he have been so stupid? This was the worst idea. Shadows hardly, if ever, worked alone. The Canadian began to beat himself up mentally. These may have been somewhat smaller, but Matthew still knew that his attacks were not going to be of much use.
The blue coloring meant that they were strong against ice-based attacks. That, in turn, meant that his persona was pretty much not the best option in battle. How much longer was it until the Dark Hour was over, he wondered. Would it be possible for them to get away by the skin of their teeth?
Matthew wanted nothing more than to eat dinner, climb into bed and hope that this nightmare would soon end.
Snapping out of his thoughts were the sounds of the monsters heading for them. One of them smacked Alfred across the face, pushing him to the side and staring him down menacingly. Holding a knife as if ready to slice his throat. Another plowed into Matthew, effectively shoving him against the door that he had previously sealed.
Taken by surprise, the Canadian dropped his gun at the impact of the shadow. Having the wind knocked out of him from the force against the door, he lifted his head to be meeted with the blue face staring at him and a knife meer inches away from his face.
P-please, let it be over soon. Just let the Dark Hour end already! [/i] he pleaded, unable to move for fear of the being struck. There was nothing that Matthew could do without his gun.[/size][/blockquote]
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Aug 14, 2011 0:11:20 GMT -5
“Blue?” Alfred wondered aloud in response to his brother. “What does it mean if—”
The words died on the blond’s tongue when he noticed the monsters were charging towards them. He made a move to get out of the way, but it proved useless as one of them smacked him square across the face. The American had been smacked before. Not often, but it had happened once or twice in his lifetime. Never before, however, had a smack knocked him aside with such force.
After landing on his head, as always, Alfred started to pull himself up. His groan turned into a startled yelp when he noticed a knife was being held to his throat. Forcing himself to look away from his predator, he sought out Matt, finding him in a situation not unlike his. He also took startled notice of the fact that his not-really-a-gun had escaped his grasp.
This wasn’t good. He had to do something. But what was there to do?
Dumbfounded with both the situation and himself, he held his hands up to the Shadow before him, making it look as if his thumb was cut off with a sliding motion. When the monster seemed to be thoroughly confused, he took this opportunity to roll and likely just barely avoid a slit throat, or maybe worse. Not bothering to think that was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done—and that’s saying something with Alfred—now on his back, he leaped up onto his feet and stumbled to grab his brother’s not-really-a-gun.
Oddly enough, once he’d gotten it in his hold, he didn’t feel nervous holding what apparently wasn’t a gun. It felt almost.. right, a sensation he didn’t at all expect to experience. He’d expect that sort of feeling playing laser tag, maybe a shooting game, but never holding something that had something so similar to the appearance of a real gun. He hardly had time to ponder over this, however, because it’s rather difficult to think when a monster is right behind you ready to pounce at any given moment and another is holding a knife to your twin.
“Screw it.” Alfred murmured, putting the gun to his head. Taking a breath beforehand and squeezing his eyes shut, he pulled the trigger, a shattering noise resounding upon him doing so.
With a choked gasp, he opened his eyes again, seeing a familiar being floating before him. One of his own creations, in fact. A really old one. It would actually be more accurate to call it a scribble than a creation, but all the same. It was for an early assignment around what had to be first or second grade. The topic was making the world a better place, so he designed a hero, whom of which he dubbed Bubbleman. Few children in his class didn’t take to teasing him for it, but he loved Bubbleman regardless. He was just shocked to be seeing him now.
“B-Bubbleman?” He squeaked. “W-What’re you doing here? You should be busting Commies and protecting the ozone layer and—” All of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the hero suddenly held out its fist, it cape suspending in air as if some sort of updraft had just kicked in. As a result, the two blue masked creatures suddenly went to flames, and at that, they began to distortedly squeal. The American couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face as the two threats sunk down and became more like puddles than blobs. “.. Saving the world!”
He immediately looked to Matt, a look of both excitement and hesitance appearing on his features.
“Bro, do I do it again?” He inquired, much like a young child asking if he was ready to swim in the deep end of a pool, or something similar, jittering about where he stood.
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