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Prince, knowing that he only had a few seconds before the abomination came for him, dropped a small, cylinderic object from his belt before scaling the wall of the building quickly and easily, activating his cloaking device as he went. His mandibles flared as he observed the abomination from a hidden position on the rooftop, eager for battle.

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Prince, knowing that he only had a few seconds before the abomination came for him, dropped a small, cylinderic object from his belt before scaling the wall of the building quickly and easily, activating his cloaking device as he went. His mandibles flared as he observed the abomination from a hidden position on the rooftop, eager for battle.

Neyinde inspected the ground where he heard the clink of metal. He turned to weapon-finder vision mode and saw the cylinder, then looked up in Thermal mode to look for Prince, but not finding him. So he backed away from the cylinder.

 

OOC: Assuming the cylinder is made of metal, correct? If not, I'll edit.

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OOC: Indeed it is. :D

 

Prince tapped a few panels on his CPU, and the cylinder (in fact a Plasma Mine) exploded, sending shrapnel, as well as a powerful shockwave, in all directions. Though Neyinde had backed off, he likely still wouldn't be completely safe from the shockwave and shrapnel.

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OOC: Indeed it is. :D

 

Prince tapped a few panels on his CPU, and the cylinder (in fact a Plasma Mine) exploded, sending shrapnel, as well as a powerful shockwave, in all directions. Though Neyinde had backed off, he likely still wouldn't be completely safe from the shockwave and shrapnel.

The blast knocked Neyinde a bit back, and various bits of shrapnel buried themselves in his legs, arms, and armor, though they didn't do serious damage. He looked around once more, and growled lowly before running into the city.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Voldemort would be answered by dozens of pointed hooks shooting towards him from all directions, some connected to holes in buildings, other simply appearing out of nowhere. If they continued unimpeded, they would bury themselves in Voldemort's skin, hoisting him into the air and suspending him there.

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Voldemort would be answered by dozens of pointed hooks shooting towards him from all directions, some connected to holes in buildings, other simply appearing out of nowhere. If they continued unimpeded, they would bury themselves in Voldemort's skin, hoisting him into the air and suspending him there.

Voldemort simply smiled. Protego, he thought, and a shield of magical properties erected itself around him, protecting him from the hooks. "I don't wish to play this game..." Voldemort trailed off, his grin continuing to darken the day.

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A deep, booming laugh could be heard coming from somwhere within the cloud of mist, echoing around the courtyard. This was followed by a few seconds of silence, then speech:

 

"Tom... Marvolo... Riddle. You have no idea how long I have waited for this opportunity... Soon, your soul will be mine."

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A deep, booming laugh could be heard coming from somwhere within the cloud of mist, echoing around the courtyard. This was followed by a few seconds of silence, then speech:

 

"Tom... Marvolo... Riddle. You have no idea how long I have waited for this opportunity... Soon, your soul will be mine."

Voldemort remained unfazed, though his smile faded. This one knew his real name, eh? "My soul?" He laughed. "My soul has been irreparably separated. Not even God could put it back together. Permanent used to have meaning, you know." He sneered. "And by the way, Riddle is dead. There is only Lord Voldemort now." The Protego charm remained in place.

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