Shadowhawk

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] Seeing a fearsome bazooka missile hurtling straight for him, the Shadowhawk did what any sane, intelligent person would do. He ducked. The missile whizzed over his head, trailing smoke and fire. It continued down the hallway, burning a swath through the darkness, and exploded violently against the wall, punching razor-sharp chunks of steel shrapnel straight into the walls and furniture. Laughing triumphantly, the black-armored necromancer then flexed his arm muscles, set himself, pulled out a handheld mathematical calculation device to briefly ascertain the proper trajectory, and threw a roundhouse punch right-hand talon strike, aiming for ShadowVezon's spinal column.

OOC: Oop, sorry about that, Pulse. I've been pretty busy the last twenty-four hours; totally forget you were attacking me. IC: [ Shadowhawk ] Something happened to the Shadowhawk; having been perusing his latest copy of Graverobber's Weekly, he wasn't sure what. Some sort of attack, no doubt. It knocked him flat on his back in a puddle of saltwater, even as the lights suddenly... went out. For some reason. Egad. What chaos. I hate this place. Sighing, the black-armored necromancer folded up his magazine and stowed it safely away in his utility toolbelt, then sprang to his feet and unsheathed his talons. See in the dark he could not, but nonetheless, the night was his element. In a previous form, he had been a professional assassin; remnant memories of that time still came to him now and then in scattered dreams, and it was a known fact that spellcasters of black magick almost invariably detested light and delighted in its counterpart. It was simply part of their nature. Stalking stealthily down a dark corridor, the Shadowhawk moved up quietly behind ShadowVezon, preparing to sink his razor-keen protosteel talons straight into the Joker wannabe's spinal column.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - <N/A> "Ohhhh... this has got to be a nightmare." moaned the Shadowhawk dismally, slapping himself in the face to make sure he wasn't dreaming. It hurt. Sort of. "This is so terrible. I hate having no rules, no objective, no death... it gives me a headache. I guess I'm lawful evil alignment, then?" Still bemoaning his wretched fate, the necromancer whipped out the (essentially useless) Black Rod of Power and threw it like a really blunt, really heavy dagger straight at JiMing, intended to puncture the Bionifighter's spleen on impact.

2 fire > 1 water That's the cold equation, Voxumo. Or rather, the formula for steam.

That is how I have always understood it.. since i have been doing it Yeah, I'm 99.99% sure that's how the rules are... just double-checking wi' da GM, though.

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End The grey-clad privateer acknowledged the Colonel's words with an impassive grunt and a slight nod of his massive skull; pleased as he was that he wouldn't have to go after his rucksack, he was more than a trifle annoyed that he wasn't being included in the battle stations with the rest... but then, it made sense from a tactical leadership standpoint. He was an acknowledged pirate, a pardoned criminal, an unknown... a wild card all the way. Best to let him mingle with the crew a bit, prove his motives, before putting him in high-risk situations. His tawny eyes darted over the cat-girl again, cool and thoughtful. It was a serious injury, aye, but he'd seen worse. With quick, expert medical assistance, she'd do fine. Perfectly fine. Unless something went abruptly, terribly wrong, of course, and he'd seen that happen too.

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End Wulf Kharon reloaded the rotating magazine on his revolver with deft, sure movements of his massive hands, thumbing the shells into place with practiced ease. He said nothing whatever concerning his leader's decision to abandon the space station and pull out; said nothing whatever concerning the possibility of a Brood Commander's presence; said nothing whatever concerning the cat-girl who lay injured only a few feet away from him in the half-track's internal steel-scented dimness. Softly, very softly, he cleared his throat and said, to no one in particular, "When we hit the fourth floor, let me off. I need to go fetch my rucksack from my hotel room. I won't be long, I imagine... though a flak jacket and a helm might be nice. Are there any around here, in extra large size?"

'Bye. OOC: Edited profile to reflect the Black Rod of Power. Am I correct in assuming that each Bionifighter may bring one (1) Ultimate Weapon and one (1) Special Weapon into battle with them at a time? That is, for a total of one in each category?

What, eight damage at a single blow isn't good enough for you? Keep in mind that, just because this is a boss battle, ordinary Bionifighters still don't deal any more damage than usual. I think, eight damage is pretty good. Most likely not. Got a problem with it? I know... I'd have loved to exterminate you and JiMing, but unfortunately, he's got over twenty hit points remaining, if you count the Ignika, and so... better one than neither. And, in an IC sense, the Shadowhawk did say he was going to kill you. Also, I might as well mention, to whom it may concern, that the Shadowhawk parried Chro's most recent attack. Go back and check the posts, and the order in which they were posted, if you don't believe me. (edited as per ninja'd) As for the lightvines... what I have done, I have done. I do sadly fear that I am not sorry at all if anyone is angry at me for it. The Shadowhawk is a boss, and therefore stupendously overpowered, especially when enraged and bloodied and desperate. Also note that he was using his Shadow elemental abilities to assist in ripping them up.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 101/280 HP ] - Endgame The Shadowhawk set his jaw grimly behind his Kanohi Avsa and fought on, determined to slaughter as many of his foes as possible before Voltex showed up and brought the gory battle to an end. Having taken all due damage (-4 HP) from the continual volley of ranged attacks, he conjured up his final Ultimate Weapon, the Beautiful Butterfly Wings of Undeath, and threw them like a massive razor-edged paper airplane at Blade, decapitating the unfortunate Bionifighter and killing him instantly. If there was one thing the Shadowhawk could be relied on for, it was to keep his oaths of vengeance. Now, with no one in particular on his hit list, he threw a crackling bolt of Shadow energy at Daedalus, dealing one damage, and then whirled back into melee combat against Chro and JiMing, deftly parrying the former's strokes with his right-hand talons.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 105/280 HP ] - Endgame Snarling, the Shadowhawk whirled into a savage roundhouse slashing attack, talons crackling with Shadow energy. Ripping his way through the vegetation, he engaged JiMing and Chro in melee, taking significant damage from both Bionifighter's attacks (-10 HP), and countering with fast, lethal strikes of his own, dealing three damage to each mentioned combatant. (Oh, and the top of his skull healed immediately despite its horrible wound, because the Shadowhawk as a boss, is boss, and this is not an RPG. Realism is irrelevant.) Also he took some more damage from ranged attacks. Probably energy-bullets, again. (-3 HP)

IC: [ Pulse ZMB ] - [ --/5 HP ] Having been deftly stabbed in the brain by ShadowVezon, the zombie Pulse fell down and became dead again. What a pity. It really is a pain, being an animated corpse. Every hates you, for some strange reason, and in most cases, you're too puny to get away from them or even fight back. IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 118/280 HP ] - Dark Lord's Fury: 100% The Shadowhawk took a bunch of damage (-5 HP) from multiple attacks that I don't have the time to mention right now, was knocked flat on his back by a coilgunned Luroka (-5 HP), and jumped right back up with murder in his eyes. Knowing his time was limited, the necromancer pulled out the Rainblower of Undeath and fired it at Blade, Luroka, Daedalus, JiMing, and ShadowVezon, dealing two damage to each of them.

IC: [ Pulse ZMB ] - [ 2/5 HP ] The stalwart zombie took Chaos damage to the brain (-2 HP), got its chest shredded open by Daedalus's melee attack, and was hurled backwards by a violent explosion (-1 HP). Springing adroitly to its feet once more, Pulse's battered corpse trundled over and tackled JiMing, grabbing him in a crushing headlock which would take one IC post's worth of action to break. IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 128/280 HP ] - Dark Lord's Fury: 95% "Weakling, am I?" purred the Shadowhawk dangerously. "I'll show you how weak I am, Voxumo..." Pulling the Scythe of Destiny of Undeath from thin air, the necromancer spun it once and sank the entire razor-keen blade straight into Voxumo's skull, effectively removing his soul and killing him instantly. At least until next round. Turning away (again) from the fallen Bionifighter, the Shadowhawk concentrated on chopping his way free of yet another round of lightvines (-1 HP), which hampered his mobility and basically left him a sitting duck for a bunch of flying energy things, including a railgun sword, of all things (-15 HP). Lurching backwards at the impact, he angrily jerked Luroka's blade out of his chest and snapped it cleanly in half (although, of course, it would be completely repaired before next round) over his knee with overpowered Bioniboss strength. "Touché, Makuta Luroka. Well played. But enough of this; I grow weary of your shenanigans. Perhaps losing your precious sword will hamper your options?" Also during all this, his concentration had wavered, causing the shadow cage around Chro to dissolve, releasing the Bionifighter. OOC: I guess I'd better sign up again... you folks'll want revenge, I suppose. Member Name: [ Shadowhawk ] Weapon: [ Retractable, tri-bladed protosteel shredder talons, essentially identical in appearance, design, and functionality to those wielded by the Wolverine, built directly into the biomechanical gauntlet components of both his left and right wrist/hand structures. In BIONICLE terms, they most notably resemble the claws possessed by Matoran Vican, albeit somewhat longer and slimmer. ] Power: [ An accomplished necromancer, the Shadowhawk has the ability to resurrect and telepathically command the corpses of deceased Bionifighters for his own purposes. These undead warriors remain under the control of their respective players, if said players so desire, but are still classified as ‘eliminated’ for health and scoring purposes. They cannot access their original powers, cannot collect pick-ups, and cannot utilize any sort of equipment other than their basic weaponry; indeed, in true zombie fashion, about all they can do is mindlessly obey their master’s whims without thought or concern for their own survival. The Shadowhawk can have up to three (3) undead active at a time, but can only revive one per IC post. Reviving a Bionifighter requires the Shadowhawk to sacrifice at least 1 HP of his own life force. Undead Bionifighters possess an amount of HP equal to the amount originally sacrificed to grant them undeath; only hits to the vitals will cause actual loss of HP, although maiming and loss of limbs will come with obvious penalties to the undead's maneuverability and effectiveness. Critical hits to the brain deal double damage. When an undead is destroyed, the effect is permanent; they cannot be re-revived via the Shadowhawk's powers at any time thereafter. ] Appearance: [ Possesses roughly the same size and general structure of body as one of the basic movie-form Toa Metru, albeit with more nimble joints and a much sleeker, less ‘steampunk’ mechanical design. Physical coloration is predominantly black, fading to a sinister, toxic shade of intense green on his forearms, shoulders, and the ‘cheekbones’ of his powerless Great Kanohi Avsa. His armor is light, form-fitted, and maneuverable, built for stealth, with a bit of ‘demon/feathered’ superficial decorative patterns and motifs to accentuate both his Kanohi Avsa and his status as the Shadowhawk, a general ‘strategic evil’ theme of appearance that carries over into his black necromancer’s cape and hood. He wears a sturdy black utility belt around his waist, in which he keeps his pick-ups and other items. The Shadowhawk’s eyes and heartlight are a vivid, venomous green in color, and tend to glow brighter when he’s angered, bloodied, or is utilizing his powers. ] Ultimate Weapons: [ Black Rod of Power - Deals ten (10) damage, in the form of a blast of pure Shadow energy; like most Ultimate Weapons, may only be used once per round. ] Special Weapons: [ Cloak of Void - Allows the user to copy one Ultimate Weapon per round; the copy retains all attributes of the Ultimate Weapon that was copied. ]

OOC: Suicide is not allowed, my friend. IC post later.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 144/280 HP ] - Dark Lord's Fury: 92% "If you allow it?" cackled the Shadowhawk maniacally, his dark laughter echoing across the desolation in true necromancer fashion. "Ha ha, Voxumo... you flatter yourself. I could crush you underfoot like an insect, a maggot, and though there are many things about Void and his power, powers that now are mine for a brief passage of the hours, that I do not understand--" His voice dropped an octave as he felt the Scythe of Destiny activate (-10 HP), felt the cold wrenching pain in his very essence, but his words did not falter and the mad gleam in his emerald eyes glowed brightly. "--you, I am certain, understand even less. But now, begone. Luroka seeks my attention, I think; would you wish your ally disappointed?" The Shadowhawk's black-armored left fist lifted, clenched, and the earth trembled, dust rising in swirls around the two combatants and then, Pulse's corpse sprang noiselessly from the ground behind Voxumo and tackled the scythe-wielding Bionifighter, sinking its undead teeth into his neck and dealing one damage. Turning away, his every movement radiating arrogance, the necromancer neatly parried Luroka's magnetically-manipulated sword as if it had been actually in the hands of its master... but the parry was made in the bare nick of the instant, Luroka's blade only centimeters from drawing blood when it was knocked away. "I must congratulate you, Luroka. A most... creative method of swordplay. Manipulating the weapon with one's mind, I suppose, allows for a bit more finesse, more possibilities... this will be a welcome test of my skill. Possibly. Depending on how powerful your mind truly is. On guard!" (Also, sometime during all this, the boss took damage from lightning (-1 HP), but because he'd been hit so many times with it already, he didn't even notice.) OOC: Reminds me of a weapon called the 'Dancing Sword', from Dungeons & Dragons. Pretty cool. I've always liked blades that could fight on their own. Also, Pulse zombie has five HP, as did Zakaro zombie.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 155/280 HP ] - Dark Lord's Fury: 90% The Shadowhawk parried Luroka's melee attack with ruthless ease, then smacked the warrior backwards with a Shadow-charged talon stroke, dealing one damage. Wheeling in place, ragged black cape swirling about him, the necromancer stalked forwards once more, savagely ripping his way through lightvines. A fresh volley of ranged attacks didn't seem to faze him (-4 HP), and when ShadowVezon charged the Bioniboss with a Joy Buzzer, he met the same fate as Luroka; a deft riposte, and a brutal return stroke that dealt one damage. Luroka's magnetism manipulations took effect, abruptly pinning the Shadowhawk in place, and as Daedalus's concussion blast shook the earth, the black-hooded spellcaster glanced up, cold anger glinting in his eyes. "You're becoming more creative, I see... very well. Two can play at this game, eh?" With only seconds to spare, he snapped his armored fingers and conjured up a whirling shield of black Shadow energy, which did three things: partially lowered the damage (-3 HP) he took from the living fireball, abruptly halted said fireball's flight, and then collapsed inwards on itself, sealing Chro in a crackling bubble of searing darkness. OOC: I'll give you a hint, folks. As regards basic, non-'power' attacks, the Shadowhawk's strength lies in melee. Very much so. Just keep that in mind, right?

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 162/280 HP ] - Dark Lord's Fury: 85% By now, the Shadowhawk wasn't even really bothering to keep track of all the varied incoming attacks, both ranged and melee (-10 HP). Closing his mind to the chaos around him, he gathered his energies, concentrating... then threw back his head and roared his fury to the shadowed sky, talons flashing as he whirled into a brutal spin attack, shredding all vines and ice that bound him, knocking any nearby Bionifighters to the ground, and sinking his left-hand blades deep into Voxumo's chest, dealing three damage. "I warned you, wielder of the scythe... if this is your treacherous idea of 'keeping up appearances', I want no part of it. As of this moment, you fight me openly and die!" Green eyes blazing, he wrenched his talons free and shouted a black oath to the shrieking wind, calling forth crackling bolts of Shadow lightning that struck each living Bionifighter and dealt one damage to each.

OOC: Just sayin', Blade, you should be at 12 HP. You started with 15, lost 2 to the zombie, lost another 1 to the Shadowhawk. 15 - 3 = 12.

IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 172/280 HP ] - Endgame foh da Blade Caught in a deadly crossfire of Thornax fruits, energy-bullets, and electricity, the Shadowhawk growled in frustration as fiery explosions erupted all around him (-6 HP), not only dealing damage to the Bioniboss... but dealing damage to the binding lightvines and other vegetation as well. Slashing his way free of his now-weakened bonds, our friendly neighborhood necromancer rasped out a grim and ugly laugh of triumph, then stepped forward and hurled a jagged bolt of black Shadow lightning straight into the onrushing Blade's chest, dealing one damage. OOC: Darn, ninja'd again. Editing post to reflect more damage dealt...

OOC: This afternoon, real-life circumstances permitting. Or am I taking your question too literally? Are you trying to imply something, and it's not registering in my brain?

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End The privateer merely grunted in response, not even bothering to wonder how the Slug knew his name. Slugs were... gifted, that way. They picked up on things that a lot of people didn't, whether through natural alertness or psychic prying or a bit of both, he didn't know and didn't care. Slugs were good folk to have around, especially if they were the sort who enjoyed a friendly game of cards. Played for money, of course. Double-checking the action on his revolver, tawny eyes intent and alert, Wulf Kharon readied himself to blow a great smoking hole through whatever ugly triangular skull might recklessly choose to poke itself into his field of fire. Let them come; he'd drill the first one for sure.

IC: [ Zakaro ZMB ] - [ -- HP ] Hit in the vitals with various attacks, the zombie twitched and moaned and went back to being dead again. As it fell, the corpse's own weight pulling it down to earth, its armored hands, still locked around Blade's throat, ripped and lacerated the flesh as they were wrenched forcibly away, dealing the promised two damage. IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 178/280 HP ] - Master of shadows given pause The Shadowhawk was hit by a multitude of attacks, including a hurtling Kolhii Ball pick-up, and took extensive damage (-20 HP). The pain of combined explosions, fire, magnetism, and lightning was nothing, however, compared to the shock and fury that crackled through his veins when the cool clear light of the Karda Nui lightvines sprang from the dust and slashed at his darkness. Green eyes snapping wide open in alarm, he hissed softly under his breath, already feeling the weakening effects of the vegetation as its close proximity began sapping trace portions of his elemental force. "What-- is this?! Lightvines? Oh, you fool... you cunning, reckless, valiant thorn in the flesh. Such audacity must not, will not, go unpunished!" With a guttural snarl of rage, the necromancer clenched his black-armored fist and mimed a brutal left hook in JiMing's direction, summoning grasping tentacles of raw Shadow energy that burst from the air and coiled around the Chaos-wielding Bionifighter, dealing two damage as well as momentarily restricting his movement. OOC: E: Ninja'd by Blade. Will respond to his actions next post.

OOC: Oh, you can't give up now, Blade! What's the fun in that? You could at least stick a blade through Zakaro's brain before you go down, and prevent him from resurrecting again to harm your friends! This is Bionifight Ultimate, where you sign up to die... and after all, it's not like you didn't ask for it, O cunning wielder of the infamous Ice Rod. You're a significant threat, and significant threats will not be tolerated. Notice that I'm not really dealing any exorbitant amount of damage, compared to past bosses. Why, most of you haven't even been scratched yet, and it's already almost Wednesday! As for Voxumo... well, ha ha. 'When thieves fall out', as the saying is. We'll see what happens. In player-vs-player, he'd probably kick my rear, courtesy of his Blue Orb of Not Fire, but in player-vs-boss...

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End " it." grunted the privateer calmly. His revolver swung up, leveled, shuddered in his hand as he fired, once, twice, efficiently punching 9mm armor-piercing rounds through both nearby Mantis's vitals, finishing them both. Gunsmoke curled in the air, mingling with the hot tang of Ashley's blood and the muffled click-click of nearby insectoid movements in the adjoining corridors, clearly audible even through several inches of wall. " it all." Keeping his back to the relative center of the group, shielding his teammates with his massive body, Wulf dropped to one knee in a gunman's stance and steadied his sidearm, covering the now-lifeless corridor they'd just come through. "Someone, watch the other way. Someone else, tend to the cat-girl. I've got this." Maybe it wasn't his place to be giving orders, even informal ones, but he didn't think of that. He just saw what needed done, from his not-inexperienced viewpoint, and let his comrades know what to do as best he could.

IC: [ Zakaro ZMB ] - [ 3/5 HP ] Zakaro's reanimated corpse was slowing down rapidly, forced to break its way doggedly through tangle after tangle of plants that coiled relentlessly around its legs and abdomen, but its target was only a few feet away now, well within striking range. Even with its neck slashed nearly in half by a whirling energy shield (-1 HP), the zombie still had a decent amount of power left... enough to deal some serious damage. Uttering a gurgling snarl of hunger and rage, the flaming monstrosity pounced, tackling Blade without mercy and locking its powerful hands in a death-grip around his throat. It would take an entire IC post's worth of action to get it off, and Blade's neck would take two damage in the process. Of course, Blade and his allies could just leave the zombie alone... but then Blade would begin to suffocate, and burn, and that would probably end up being a whole lot worse, in the end. IC: [ Shadowhawk ] - [ 198/280 HP ] - Grim reaper Now, ice is only ice and plants are only plants. Either one can be chopped, shredded, shattered, and otherwise eliminated in a variety of ways, especially by a superbly overpowered Bioniboss... but even a Bioniboss can be winded, and the Shadowhawk, sharp and quick as his talons were, was nearing that point at last. By the powers beneath... fools they may be, but... I... I think I'll need an aspirin when this is over. A second one-two punch of magnetism blasts from Luroka, coupled with a Chaos bolt and a few well-direct electrical jolts, was the last straw (-5 HP). The necromancer lurched to a halt, gasping heavily, not even trying to get rid of the heavy spike-studded vines that broke from the earth and began binding him anew. When the time came, he could rip them apart and keep on going, but now... he needed to breathe... breathe... As Voxumo stepped up and swung his riflestaff at the Shadowhawk, using the attack as cover to mutter something, the Shadowhawk muttered something back, his mouth hidden by his mask and his voice barely audible even to Voxumo. "Very well, then. As you wish, so shall it be. Be warned, however; in return for the inconvenience of 'keeping up appearances', your name shall remain on the dice list. And the dice trump all. I do not trust you, O wielder of the scythe... but if I can afford to gamble, so can you... and you have little to lose." OOC: Now, the rest of you guys didn't hear that. IC, I mean. But I'm just putting it out there, to keep everything legit and aboveboard.