The Amalgam
Darth Phyre II
This is what she got for being polite. Now she was gonna flay him.
She'd been too slow however. Bastard was good at hiding his intent. But he was still meat.
He was meat that could aim though. A few of her acolytes were dead as he fired at her, forcing her to dodge his fire, though barely managing, even with her body's own naturally enhanced reflexes. Once more her hubris and vanity had cost her. Now she would have to chase her pray.
Rage at his arrogance was channeled to boiling loathing at [member="Dominic Craig"] as she ran after him, and her hand reached out, the hatred channeling up her wrist as she pointed ahead of him.
"The Unholy Spirit licks my foes flesh..." she hissed, eyes turning sulphur, as she drew her carbine, set it to full auto and fired at the back of his legs. It was a pretty accurate weapon, but did only as much damage as a pistol normally. She had a fairly good chance of hitting him...he was still visible, even as he bolted to the exit.
And even as the Brain Demon manifested from a pool of shadows in the path of the door. The naked, somewhat emaciated faceless Togrutan-looking...creature sprinted for him...it wasn't highly durable, (Not that he knew that.) and could be dispersed with a few shots.
But...it was fast...and it had really good reflexes...its claws were also quite sharp. She had seen people pour fire as it sprinted at them, only for it to dodge nearly every shot. Once it got its claws in them, it had swiped away their torso, then their face.
The magical construct, a smaller scale version of the one she had used to help spring [member="Kay Arenais"] out of prison, snarled and sprinted at him at unnatural speed, its clawed hands aimed at his stomach. The surviving witches used the Force Speed she herself lacked to try and flank him from both sides, to prevent him from trying to flee the vicious, purple skinned animalistic threat in front of him, or the vicious, vain, hubris filled threat whose bruised ego at being embarrassed by this guy not once, but twice, made the petty shapeshifter fire at him, determined to prevent him from reaching the exit, but this guy was fast. Deadly and fast. Way he moved reminded her of this one assassin on Korriban who had a nerve acceleration implant. He'd dodged her lightning. (She later learned with some interest he was the local champion of corridor fighting. Corridor fighters are never to be underestimated.)
He was good, though, no question. Badass with that trick-flippy stuff with the pistol and such.
But how badass was he really? she wondered. None of what was being thrown his way was insurmountable. She had seen less skilled individuals survive much worse, after all. One time she had chased a Neimodian politician through a minefield with a few squads of Mandalorians chasing both of them. Nothing they threw at that guy, nothing she threw at him, had worked. Some days the universe just doesn't want someone to die, for whatever reason.
Of course, when she caught him, if this worked, he was gonna wish he had taken the easy way out...
She'd been too slow however. Bastard was good at hiding his intent. But he was still meat.
He was meat that could aim though. A few of her acolytes were dead as he fired at her, forcing her to dodge his fire, though barely managing, even with her body's own naturally enhanced reflexes. Once more her hubris and vanity had cost her. Now she would have to chase her pray.
Rage at his arrogance was channeled to boiling loathing at [member="Dominic Craig"] as she ran after him, and her hand reached out, the hatred channeling up her wrist as she pointed ahead of him.
"The Unholy Spirit licks my foes flesh..." she hissed, eyes turning sulphur, as she drew her carbine, set it to full auto and fired at the back of his legs. It was a pretty accurate weapon, but did only as much damage as a pistol normally. She had a fairly good chance of hitting him...he was still visible, even as he bolted to the exit.
And even as the Brain Demon manifested from a pool of shadows in the path of the door. The naked, somewhat emaciated faceless Togrutan-looking...creature sprinted for him...it wasn't highly durable, (Not that he knew that.) and could be dispersed with a few shots.
But...it was fast...and it had really good reflexes...its claws were also quite sharp. She had seen people pour fire as it sprinted at them, only for it to dodge nearly every shot. Once it got its claws in them, it had swiped away their torso, then their face.
The magical construct, a smaller scale version of the one she had used to help spring [member="Kay Arenais"] out of prison, snarled and sprinted at him at unnatural speed, its clawed hands aimed at his stomach. The surviving witches used the Force Speed she herself lacked to try and flank him from both sides, to prevent him from trying to flee the vicious, purple skinned animalistic threat in front of him, or the vicious, vain, hubris filled threat whose bruised ego at being embarrassed by this guy not once, but twice, made the petty shapeshifter fire at him, determined to prevent him from reaching the exit, but this guy was fast. Deadly and fast. Way he moved reminded her of this one assassin on Korriban who had a nerve acceleration implant. He'd dodged her lightning. (She later learned with some interest he was the local champion of corridor fighting. Corridor fighters are never to be underestimated.)
He was good, though, no question. Badass with that trick-flippy stuff with the pistol and such.
But how badass was he really? she wondered. None of what was being thrown his way was insurmountable. She had seen less skilled individuals survive much worse, after all. One time she had chased a Neimodian politician through a minefield with a few squads of Mandalorians chasing both of them. Nothing they threw at that guy, nothing she threw at him, had worked. Some days the universe just doesn't want someone to die, for whatever reason.
Of course, when she caught him, if this worked, he was gonna wish he had taken the easy way out...
