originally posted in:The New Dojo
The paralyzed Mangy heard a curse before his attacker from before stumbled onto the ground beside him. Since movement was nigh impossible, he would only be able to see the stranger in the mist out of the corner of his eye.
A hunter green dress shirt was worn by the man, complete with a typical suit jacket and matching pants. For a moment he turned his head to look at the Mangy, revealing the bulbous this seen in his silhouette earlier was no more than a turban. By the mask worn by the man seemed more alarming - a calcium-white face of bone, fashioned to look like the skull of some avian. It was mottled with moss and other various flora that grew upon its surface and broke from its marrow.
And then the arrow from the archer embedded itself in the back of the Mangy's thigh.
Whatever screams the Mangy would've released would be impossible for the others to hear. The mist made sure of that.
With some struggling, the stranger in the corner of the Mangy's eye managed to get one knee. He placed his right hand in the soil, where vines that pulsated dark red like veins began to creep upwards and form around his fingers and forearm like an organic gauntlet.
He pulled his hand from the dirt and immediately put his covered fingers around the Mangy's scaly flesh that had been parted by the arrow. Blood began to agglutinate and clot around the wound, where sparks of electricity were drawn through painful spasms.
He was forcing the electricity from the Mangy's body.
Bioluminescent light traced itself up his veins, turning the man's limp leg into a fully-functioning one in a few moments.
With the same hand, he reached into the soil once more and grabbed a fistful, smearing it around the Mangy's wound. It began to harden and stretch like a second skin, and unbeknownst to the Mangy, rendered whatever foreign bacteria that was attached to the arrow dormant as to not risk infection.
There was one thing clear enough: he was healing the Mangy. But after kicking him? Little made sense.
Eventually, the man got up and continued making his way towards the Mangy's comrades. He disappeared in the mist...
Only to reappear again, this time his silhouette approaching from [i]behind[/i] the squad of fish men.
English
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While the fish was paralyzed, the soldiers could only assume he was dead. The one with the dagger than picked up a fistful of dirt, able to see the figure through the fish's back to back formation. He quickly chucked the mud, holding it would blind the man as the ran to the left. They were usually fast, especially in the wet mud, which may render a normal person's ability to move. They were no longer in a corner, so they chose flight over fight. The shield was at the front with his weapon drawn incase they ran into the man, and his dagger comrade was constantly. Spewing mud from the ground to deter the monster from getting close. Did the humans revolve more than they did? Impossible.
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The clump of mud impacted the silhouette, causing it to... collapse? As if it was made of mud itself, the humanoid simply fell apart. A few seconds later, all sorts of small domestic wildlife idly moved past the fish men's feet. Beetles, worms, butterflies and even some snakes. There was something strange about them, however. They were all caked in flora. The carapaces of the beetles were covered in writhing fungi, the wings of the butterflies blossomed with foreign petals, and the simple garden snakes' scales were clotted with moss and small clovers. If the fish men looked close enough, they would've seen each piece of flora pulsate like a beating organ. The smell of flowers was intoxicating now. Suddenly, every flora-infested organism stopped moving. The plants that covered them began to grow rapidly, petrifying them in cocoons of chlorophyll green. Their corpses began to sink into the ground. The soil beneath their feet responded quickly. A small field of mushrooms with swollen bodies grew all around the remaining fish men.
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The fish did not stay to find out what the mushrooms would do, and simply stepped around them as they ran as fast as they could. They ran blindly, flinging mud in whichever way to hit the man should he approach. It seemed that the creatures valued their life over their curiosity.
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They found their way out of the fog, rejoining their army and greeted by the natural cold of the night and scent of the open air. No longer did flowers and chemicals bombard their senses and hug their skin. Their comrade, however... The Mangy finally got a look at the man in the bone-bird mask. He looked as he was seen before, a crisp hunter green dress shirt with a turban to match. He opened a hand towards the Mangy and spoke to him directly from beneath the fake face. "I'm terribly sorry about this. You weren't supposed to feel a thing, after all. No matter - I'll take care of the pain." He opened his hand. The Mangy began to feel very drowsy as the scent finally overcame him, entering his body and flushing all consciousness away like a wave of sleep. [spoiler]End here because I wanna do business with Quarter[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Sounds good [/spoiler]