Python finds the source of the voice and runs at it, his metallic skin beginning to get some problems from the rust.
"Gods are my speciality, know this before you die."
[spoiler]Shot in the dark[/spoiler]
English
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[b]he finds nothing.[/b] [i]"there is one thing that I find the most adorable among mortals."[/i] [b]a very large curved blade stabs him through the chest, and then retracts. The holy light in his body seems to wither and die out, the rust overwhelming him. His legs are about to give.[/b] [i]"the concept of hope."[/i] [spoiler]let this play out, something badass is about to happen.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Ok...... Don't kill off mah character, brah![/spoiler] Python turns, he sees the blade that is slowly succumbing to corrosion from his anit-matter "heart". His face remains the same, a psychopathic smile on his face as his legs give out and his knees hit the ground. Python isn't dead, but close. "Hell, here I come....."
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[spoiler]don't worry. You'll see.[/spoiler] [b]with a slash of his scythe, he cuts a rusted arm clean off. The feeling of sickness comes back extremely strong. He can feel himself dying.[/b] [i]"do you feel it, Mortal? Death's hand at your throat? [b]My[/b] hand? I can make your pain go away, let you keep your worthless life. All you have to do is one simple thing."[/i] [b]he points his scythe at his head.[/b] [i]"Kneel before me. Your lord Noiratrom. Prince of Death."[/i]
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Python flips the birdy at the prince of death. He smiles, almost positive he is about to die.
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[spoiler]okay, not really what I meant.[/spoiler] [b]he chuckles.[/b] [i]"I don't remember giving you a choice."[/i] [b]the blade, glowing ominously, cuts a leg completely clean, making him fall on his knee. The rust dissolves his finger.[/b]
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Python drops to his knee, supporting his wieght with his left knee and right arm. "A choice? We always have a choice. I am defiant, always have been always will be." Python looks at the scythe and smiles. [spoiler]What did you mean?[/spoiler]
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[b]the scythe keeps glowing green, a fume emanating from the blade. Although everything on his armor seems decayed, the blade is master crafted.[/b] [i]"the results are always the same. You all die in the end."[/i] [b]he traces the blade on his face, leaving a deep scar. The fumes enter his face and cause a sharp pain. After some time, the pain dimms, but stays permanently. The wide scar burns a sinister shade of green.[/b] [i]"A gift, Mortal. A reminder of me."[/i] [b]a cloud of smoke spins around them rapidly, engulfing the scene in fumes.[/b] [i]"I shall see you soon..."[/i] [b]his voice trails off in a sinister laughter as he dissapears. You are knocked out of consciousness. When you wake up, the rust is gone, your members are back, but you can feel a pain in your face. After checking, the scar is still there, dimmingly glowing in an ominous shade of green. No matter what you try, the scar comes back.[/b]
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Python wakes, startled by the scar on his face, feeling pain for the first time in a very long time. He looks around, scanning his surroundings. His arms and legs are back, working well, the rust is gone, his chest repaired. "I was almost out......" He gets up, checking his guns and looking aroumd for the prince of death. "See me soon? I am your biggest supplier! I give you souls and lives by the millions a day!" He raises his arms, looking around.
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[b]no response. Only the slow gusting of the wind.[/b]
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Python shakes his head. "Why can't gods or whatever be like Ares? In your face when fighting and straight forward....." He goes back to patrolling the city.