[M] Open for Discussion

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 01-04-2012, 08:08 PM

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ooc: No offense to you at all or anything, but could you try to give me posts over 300 words? It gets hard to reply to really small posts. :/

Hurricane was not able to place this anger, for the anger that he held for this being was so complex, so different than anything he ever felt before. This felt more like it was supposed to happen, while the others, they seemed like they were simply just an anger of another being alive, and being well, and this one, well this one was a deeply rooted, desire to destroy this man, to destroy everything he had, even if he did not have anything. First swing, broken flute. Those icy eyes had turned towards the flute if only for a second, because the sound it made was almost like the breaking of a bone, and the way his eyes had become, it was a weird almost fishbowl vision that had things looking slightly different. The icy eyes of the blackened wolfdog (for in all reality, Mars was a wolfdog, more dog than wolf actually) moved back to the beast whom was once his core side's Leader. To Hurricane, this male needed to be dead though, Hurricane knew no leaders, he knew not to protect anyone, he did things for himself, and to make himself feel better about his own life. The sadist fool only made the life that was not his a mess. Poor unlucky Mars. Except for, this whole thing right now, was all because of Mars. If he wasn't such a fucking crackpot mess of a mind anyways, he would not have this problem. Nobody else had this problem, not that he knew of at least. Mars hadn't met another like him. That's why he was always alone.

Hurricane looked at the male's face, the horrified look on it, and he smiled a horrible smile, one of insanity, of a killer, a madman. His fur was still standing on his shoulders, and some of the muck that had clumped in his fur had fallen out by the quick and movements of the male. He let out a mixture of a chuckle, and a snarl, an odd mixture that was much different from the many sounds that Bartholomew and Mars would make themselves. Possibly another trait of the piece of Hurricane that had existed in the male with multiple personalities. The other male had retaliated soon to the broken flute, and Hurricane was slightly unprepared for the sword that came from seemingly nowhere. His reaction time was slightly slow, and it left him with his opposite shoulder shallowly sliced. It hurt like hell though, and Hurricane realized that he needed to be more careful about how he was handling this male. He needed to kill him, but not to get himself killed. Hurricane needed to disarm the beast. That was what he needed to focus on.

Hurricane jumped back twice, putting a slight distance between the two so that he could come back around with another swing of his bat, but this time he had aimed his bat at the hand and the blade that was being held within that hand. If he didn't disarm him, then atleast he'd be able to do something to those fingers so he could not hold the sword. Hurricane could only hope his aim was not as off as the blind captain's cannonball that tried to sink the battle ship only yards away.

#557+

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