Post by Blight on Apr 13, 2016 11:25:52 GMT -5
Normally, he enjoyed a good show like this. Some jackass storms in and starts flattening the place. Digimon scream, whine, cry, shit their pants...whatever those fucks did when their day was interrupted. And then the 'heroes' swooped in. Kids - digidestined, they called them - with their partners in tow, ready to fight evil, to spare the world of darkness and banish it forever!...Whatever. Buncha tree-hugging pukes. In truth, Hazardmon didn't have time for heroism. He was too busy rearranging the furniture in his house, which totally wasn't situated in a back alley or made out of cardboard scraps from the dumpster next door. When he wasn't bogged down by his arduous interior decorating schedule, he was tugged left and right to complete all sorts of other important things, like, say, making sure he still had 3 toes on each foot, or counting how long he could go with his mask off (35.2 seconds, that was the record, by the way). Unfortunately, the 'show', as it were, roused him from his slumber. Already, his cardboard utopia had been trampled. That being the case, he made it his goal to shut down Jurassic Park, and sue these shits for the damage they caused. You could do that in the Digital World, couldn't you?
Making his way on to the battlefield, Blight (yeah, he figured he'd make people call him that, even if it was totally meant unironically) trotted past a myriad of Champion Digimon and their annoying ass humans. Why was it that Champion Digimon were so retardedly big? Like, what spurned someone to go from like, say 3 feet tall (and that was generous for most Rookies), to a 50ft behemoth? And then by Ultimate or Mega, shrink back down again to about 20ft? Granted, 20ft was still large, but not as large (or as clumsy) as these things. Of course, upon further inspection, it seemed as though Triceramon had invited a truly diverse pool of opponents to his Death Party. He recognized a Lekismon, DarkKnightmon and Aegiomon immediately, but it was all over when his eyes fell upon a Sistermon. Ow ow! Pretty lady needed rescuing! The Triceramon's attack was imminent, and it was probably going to kill her.
Blight, in all of his manly glory, shuffled over to the other Rookie, looking to make an impression. Smoke immediately started pouring out of his gas mask as he broke into a sprint. Then, using as much speed as he could muster, he made the dire attempt to push Sistermon Noir out of harm's way. In a feeble attempt, he used his Hazard Bullet to dampen the power of the Ultimate's attack, but it would barely be enough to stop either of them from exploding into data particles. "Outta the way, Toots!" he shouted, praying for his life. Y'know, hopefully any of the other fellas around them got out too. Maybe Howard. Maybe. Or perhaps all those BlackAgumon would explode instead. That would be great. He cocked his arm like a gun a second time and fired again, this time hoping to get that giant asshole right in the face.
'Wishful thinking...I just wanted to redecorate!'
Famous last thoughts.
Blight stifled a breath. His ears were ringing. Was he dead? Did they make it? Judging by wretched smell of his own burnt flesh, he assumed as much was true.
Making his way on to the battlefield, Blight (yeah, he figured he'd make people call him that, even if it was totally meant unironically) trotted past a myriad of Champion Digimon and their annoying ass humans. Why was it that Champion Digimon were so retardedly big? Like, what spurned someone to go from like, say 3 feet tall (and that was generous for most Rookies), to a 50ft behemoth? And then by Ultimate or Mega, shrink back down again to about 20ft? Granted, 20ft was still large, but not as large (or as clumsy) as these things. Of course, upon further inspection, it seemed as though Triceramon had invited a truly diverse pool of opponents to his Death Party. He recognized a Lekismon, DarkKnightmon and Aegiomon immediately, but it was all over when his eyes fell upon a Sistermon. Ow ow! Pretty lady needed rescuing! The Triceramon's attack was imminent, and it was probably going to kill her.
Blight, in all of his manly glory, shuffled over to the other Rookie, looking to make an impression. Smoke immediately started pouring out of his gas mask as he broke into a sprint. Then, using as much speed as he could muster, he made the dire attempt to push Sistermon Noir out of harm's way. In a feeble attempt, he used his Hazard Bullet to dampen the power of the Ultimate's attack, but it would barely be enough to stop either of them from exploding into data particles. "Outta the way, Toots!" he shouted, praying for his life. Y'know, hopefully any of the other fellas around them got out too. Maybe Howard. Maybe. Or perhaps all those BlackAgumon would explode instead. That would be great. He cocked his arm like a gun a second time and fired again, this time hoping to get that giant asshole right in the face.
'Wishful thinking...I just wanted to redecorate!'
Famous last thoughts.
Blight stifled a breath. His ears were ringing. Was he dead? Did they make it? Judging by wretched smell of his own burnt flesh, he assumed as much was true.
