Where angels fear to tread [Nekro]

The Black Blade Misanthropy seemed to purr almost, as Michael took in a deep breath of the dark air of the realm. As the blade’s very nature seemed to suggest, it enjoyed the darkness that enrapt the realm, a blade of true darkness and evil this one was, and something that felt right within Michel's hand. The reverberating feeling that ran through Misanthropy would reach Michael and draw a subdued smile upon his lips, the dark ethereal within him beginning to rise up some. It desired to spill blood, and he would not deny it now.

His attention did not even turn to the strange centipede kicked in his direction, as one armored foot would rise and come down to squish it with seemingly little effort. Black squished innards would accompany a sickening sound as the thing would wriggle for a moment, before going still. ”Not my problem either, only Raziel is my concern.” He muttered letting his lips return to a neutral line, feeling how close he was to slaying the self styled god. He would be rid of the pest, and perhaps atleast save his family some trouble in the long run, or what remained of it.

A strange accent grasped the males attention as a female seemed to have appeared from nowhere, strange in appearance and with an accent to boot. Yet what she spoke was English, so he would allow his attention to fall upon that conversation. They spoke about his gun, as well as The Black Blade, as if she was planning to steal it. That thought alone caused the ethereal male to scoff silently to himself, letting the tip of his blade trace along the ground slowly, Gemini tip cutting the ground slowly. While the earth beneath his feet seemed to be hard, it was much like butter to the weapon that drew along it.

In the end however the girl ended up on her way somewhere, and while Michael had no need to follow her, he was going to do so anyway. ”Overcompensating with a gun?” Michael asked with a raised brow, following after the female only around ten steps behind.

Even ten paces behind, something about the dimension seemed to distort time, distance and space. Diana looked so close but walking towards her seemed to take awhile longer than Michael would've liked.

The tracks led to another smaller apartment, which unlike the labyrinth of corridors, was just one big empty space with something in the corner. Diana approached with sword drawn to take a closer look, noticing in this dimly lit place there were... piles and piles of discarded pizza boxes, instant cup noodles, candy bar wrappers and empty soda cans all over the place. A giant couch was parked in front of a 72” plasma screen tv, and there were a huge pile of pirated DVD’s. There was also a gaming PC rig running Call of Duty 13 and porno magazines. Diana quietly sneered in disgust.

She saw the perpetrator, and it was far from what she expected. Rather than finding some horrific monster, she found an emanciated, pale skinned, balding and pimply neckbeard stuffing his face with cheetos and mountain dew, wearing dirty undies and dirty socks.

“Gah! A... a girl?!” He reacted, after peering behind hearing the paper wrappers being stepped on, then dropping his extra large bag of cheese puffs.

“Who are you?” Diana asked, wishing she had found some sort of man eating monster instead.

“I’m... I’m...” He began to hyperventilate, but, he went for his hooked sword and a vader cloak and mask. He held in an awkward and poor stance, and spoke in Vader’s voice using the mask’s voice mechanism. “I am the Shadow! I am the terror of the night, the master of darkness... ”

Diana shushed him from talking. “You’re just... some guy, and you’re using a dangerous artefact to assemble a friggin nerd cave on the shadow plane.” She concluded.

“Yeah, well, you’re just a kid.” He clutched his hook sword, then tilted his head. “Wait, I’ve seen you on the news. You’re that runaway, Diana Mendoza... your mommy is looking for you, you know. They said she’s in the hospital right now. She’s dying because she’s looking for her precious little-”

Diana’s normally calm demeanor was completely shattered by his words. In a blind rage, she flung a dagger into the man’s neck. “... Shut up!” The man might’ve wielded a tool of considerable power, but it was clear he had no fighting skill to speak of. He looked down on the blade embedded in his chest. Blood began to pour out of his mouth, from under the mask, as he slumped down dying.

“You’re lying. She’s lying. She's enjoying herself now that I'm gone from her life! Nothing is real... nothing...” She said, coming over to pick up the Khopesh from the Shadow's dead grasp. Looking at it, it was some kind of sleek, onyx like material inlaid with silver. It was... very interesting indeed, as the distorted, shifty environment around her seemed to solidify, things becoming clearer than they were.

Despite the seeming short distance from Diana, it felt as if Michael were walking slower than he really was, which annoyed someone that could move beyond humans norms. Yet he would bite back the annoyance, and continue to follow after the female in hopes that he would find what he was looking for. What that thing was, he had little idea but it was likely to come in the form of some manner of weapon, one that would do something in helping him slay a supposed immortal.

Misanthropy fed on the images that swam through his mind, of the golden blood running like a river and the gasped final breaths as he savored his death. Oh, he could feel the titan within him reveling within that. He hungered for blood, and it seemed that now was the most justified of times for him to do so. Where he was led was a smaller apartment complex, yet it only served as a single room with a large amount of junk managing to clutter it up.

Michael took a whiff of the air and cringed, placing a hand over his nose as if to block the scent from reaching it. Within the mess was a male, ill dressed and for the most part within a state of poor health, pitiful really and something that disgusted Michael. Part of him considered killing the male where he stood, but in the end he would not, something so pathetic did not deserve to be killed by the mighty Misanthropy, a blade whose very name gave away its hatred for humanity. It was him that wielded the sword, and silver orbs would fall upon it.

It appeared like something that he would be looking for, but he would have to wait and see. Yet upon saying something, the male had no such chance to show them the power of the blade, as something was in his throat, leaving him choking on his own blood. It was humorous within its own sick, and twisted way. He would watch the male die, as the blade was dropped to the floor. Yet the female would go to retrieve the weapon, Michael taking notice and grimacing. ”Now that we have that out of the way.” Michael noted as the void armor would creep up his neck until it hugged his jawline.

”Now be a good girl and hand the sword over, before I have to take it from you.”

Diana was not entirely surprised at the treachery. She expected it at every turn. Discreetly she had three of slim throwing blades in her hand.

“Oh? Give this to you? I don’t think so. You can have his cape though...” Diana walked slowly over to remove the Vader mask and cape from the dead, nameless fool. “It looks like a collector’s item!” She accompanied it with a volley of dagger tosses, three of her sharp blades passing through the cape and aimed at Michael’s general direction. With her Murder Sword in one hand, she takes on this challenger, trying to soften him up with pure and simple ranged attacks, before bringing her skill and steel to bear against Michael. The Blood Sword keened with excitement, sensing a powerful foe in Michael, and it goaded Diana to battle.

Michael’s attention would follow the cape, and he kept his attention divided upon the woman that wielded the new blade, as well as any potential attack that she would formulate upon him. Despite her small build, the female was a powerful warrior, or at least a skilled one from what he could glean from how she threw that dagger with seemingly perfect accuracy. More of the daggers would tear through the cloak that was used as a cover, Michael’s body twitching and within an instant he was in motion, his blade gliding through the air and knocking the blades away with one movement. It was fluid and not a single motion was wasted, making sure that everything he did was perfect.

With a motion just as fluid, he would reach out to pluck one of the daggers from the air, and then toss it back at her with a twist of his body, the blade flying through the air propelled by both skill and raw power. Yet within that instant his body was a blur, moving towards the female with a speed that no human could be able to achieve, becoming a red blur as the blade came in to slash at her neck.

Diana smirked at Michael’s movements. Judging from how he was able to snatch the magically enhanced blades midair, there was little doubt he had skills, and as was in Diana’s interest, she was eager to test herself against him. His speed was also something to consider, but her armor compensated.
The material wrapped around her extremities, mystical jewels glowing on her joints and allowed her limbs to move as swiftly, at least for the time being. This was going to be a challenge.

Foregoing the throwing daggers, Diana wasted little time to come to gripes, bobbing and weaving with Michael’s attacks, while lashing out with the Blood Sword, the monstrous weapon howling with excitement to taste Michael’s strong blood.
Ignoring the fact that, all around them, the Plane began to slowly shudder...

Michael took notice of the armor forming upon the female, seeming to make this a more even fight, for how long it lasted. Now she would be covered in an armor, preparing to strike with the strange blade within her hand. While she was not physically superior like Michael, he could not deny that her movements were not that of an amateur. In fact, it seemed that she was moving with a grace that far exceeded how he was acting now, which meant that he would have to step it up too if he wanted to not get outdone.

The blade would lash out at him, coming only an inch from slashing into his cheek, as Michael twisted on the heel of his foot and aimed a slash at the females leg. This became much like a dance almost, Michael attempting to hit her, and through superior skill she would protect herself, yet she likely did not know the skill he possessed. Something told him that he would have to step up the game, otherwise she would actually do some damage.

And so was underway the dance macabre between Diana and Michael, any misstep likely to cost the performer a limb or a life. Diana did not wish to test his strength, and maintained her agile but brutal style, jumping into a spin to evade the leg blow, while simultaneously retaliating at an odd angle. There was no need for a quick killing blow for the Blood Sword, for it wanted a taste first of this powerful enemy.

A malign energy coated her blade, a vicious hunger that was palpable like cold on the skin but worse. The blade called to its would be victim’s blood like a vampire’s fangs coming closer and closer to a vein, and Diana pressed the attack.

There was also another element at work here. The walls of the apartment began to crumble, and cracks began to form in the ground, not very far from the combatants. If there was to be no quick resolution, the battlefield would soon change.

The blade dance was going into full, blade clashing with blade as Michael managed to narrowly avoid strikes that would have otherwise likely killed him. The same seemed to be going for the female, as narrow misses continued to rack up as the two would fight, kicks, slashes and a variety of other maneuvers found themselves being thrown out, but one could tell that Michael was slowly losing this scuffle. The female would spin into the air to perform an odd strike, one that sent the blade across his cheek and drawing a burn of pain across the males face as his eyes grew wide, managing to step away before it would tear through his cheek entirely.

The dark blood would begin to run down his cheek in rivulets, Michael huffing for a moment as one hand would slowly run over the damaged flesh, the metal parting to allow flesh to feel the warm fluid. His mind did not register the walls around him crumbling, only that he was bleeding and that Michael was pissed. ”Alright, I think its time I stop going easy on you girly.” he muttered rubbing the droplets of blood between index and thumb, smearing it before turning towards the wielder of the blood blade.

It was then that something began to change within the male, his strange silver eyes would shift until they became a glowing green and then shifted into an Ouroboros. Everything seemed to slow down further for Michael, her moves which were hard to read before becoming apparent as the blood continued to run down his cheek. This was perhaps the first time he drew upon the emerald eyes, and he would enjoy testing them out. It was then that he rushed the female, aiming a powerful kick slash at her stomach, not holding back his monstrous strength, though even if she dodged or not, he would followed up with a powerful kick.

This blood... I know the taste... a most rare and delectable flavour indeed, one I have not known in an age. ETHEREAL. I MUST HAVE IT!”

Diana could feel the Blood Sword tremble with the demon’s appetite, and was correct to assume Michael was a special case. His blood was extremely potent, and even with the little cut she made she felt his power. Diana knew she could gain great power if she could gut him and drain his blood. It probably wasn’t a stretch that he could feel the malevolent presence in the sword either, almost looking at him like a steak dinner.

But in the next moment, she knew also that it was a deed easier said than done. She had initially assumed they were already evenly matched, until he broke out the powers. “I hate it when people go Super Saiyan on me...!” She was prepared for the speed, but not the strength.

Rather than dodge this time, she recklessly charges to take Michael’s attack so she could plunge the hungering sword to carve a larger chunk of the Ethereal, a gambit that would likely result in horrific injury for both... whatever the result, the kicks blew her away, crushing bone and rending muscle, sending her a good twenty feet and smashing into the giant pile of DVD’s and the wide screen, causing her several more cuts. The Blade was more than happy to quickly mend its wielder, heedless of her pain and suffering.

It was then that the cracks began to truly affect their battlefield, a large chasm opening between them that extended into the darkness below, a darkness filled with a terrible thing. Giant bony, spiny pillars of pulsing flesh and muscle shot up through the apartment, then the tremors increased; something was moving beneath, headed for the portal.

It seemed the female was not prepared for the strength that Michael could throw behind his blows, strength that seemed to dwarf that of the wielder of the blood blade. The occuli would quickly scan over the sword that the female was wielding, and he could feel the hunger that was radiating from it, a hunger that seemed to be directed towards him. So it seemed that the female wanted a taste of his own blood, and if that were the case he would not make the meal easy for the blade. He would not become the meal of a blade, he had greater plans than simply being consumed. The blade would glide against the side of his armor, piercing it and drawing a gout of blood that spurted out from the cut, yet his foot seemed to connect with her.

With that strike, she would be sent flying into a pile of Dvd’s crushing them, and perhaps damaging her. The male growled lowly to himself as he felt the blood begin to pulse from within his wound, pouring over the blood red armor and dying it a shade darker. Likely the blade had taken more of his blood was only being urged to drink more of it, yet he could not allow himself to be drained. Michael did not know what would happen if he was drained of blood, yet he did not intend to find out. Yet within that instant, the very place would begin to fracture, ground between them rupturing as something would begin to reach through the created void.

Michael spat out a glob of blood onto the ground as more began to reach from the crevice, and the room would begin to crack more. With a grumble, he would summon forth the white blade imperium, a blade of strange brilliant metal with gold inlaid into it, and with bright flames that ran from it and began to wash over Michael. The wound upon his cheek would begin to close, as well as the wound that had been sliced open upon his side, even closing the cut within the armor that normally was protecting him, yet that blade seemed to be stronger than he expected. Perhaps his blood had managed to temporarily empower it, which made him shudder to think what all of his blood would do. Yet something else was pressing, the thing that was beginning to rise and move towards the portal. ”And now here’s this thing.” he muttered.

Without need for much provocation, Michael would dart towards one of the spires that had risen, and aim to slash out at it with both Imperium and Misanthropy.

The protrusion was cut open with little hassle... and for Michael’s trouble, it ‘branched’ out, several tentacles covered in fangs, spines and eyes lashing out at him. The entire shadow apartment was being rapidly absorbed into the fissure below, and the landscape itself was becoming animate, like the shallow roots of some alien tree... indeed, the landscape all around began to change, as trees of shadow shot up from fissures everywhere, the giant ‘tree’ being the apartment itself, now a massive, writhing mass of shadow flesh and tentacles galore.

Diana slowly stood up as her shattered bones and rent muscles repaired themselves at a pace as agonizing as they were damaged. She observed the colossal abomination that used to be the apartment; she slowly began to understand a terrible thing about it- the rifts torn open between this world and the earth was allowing the monster to grow, and she came to a conclusion that the monster was trying to reach for the other side. A few dozen monsters were probably manageable but this thing was going to be a problem.

There was also the issue of the monster starting to close the rifts as it was trying to cross over. Diana shouted over to Michael waht she knew. “Hey...! I enjoyed our little exchange, but... there’s a big chance that giant monster is going to earth, and closing the door behind us! How about a temporary truce?”

The tendrils that would move outwards to hit Michael would be followed, ethereal stepping back and out of the way of the otherwise deadly looking attacks, slashing at some of them and cutting them away, while managing to duck out of the way of some. Pressing the bottom of his foot against one of the, he would flip back and land on his feet, wielding both blades with a certain skill and letting out a low annoyed breath as he considered what he was dealing with now. It seemed that he had a major problem, but with the blade wielding female he would not have too much of a problem. He would move around, finding himself standing next to the female and brandishing his weapons as he glared at the thing that was beginning to rise from the darkness. ”Truce? I guess I could work with a truce, while we’re dealing with an interdimensional monster.”