Counter the Attack Above You

[Archon]

With a great force of will, Archon uses Mary Sue Move #16 Ultra-Anti-Anime-Invincible-Shield with great effect, as the cosmos roar in rage at this blatant disregard of standard roleplay rules, an enormously great green energy envelops the Gold Saint in an ever-diminishing cage. The effort of such a spell causes the mighty Peasant Archon to grow red-faced, as exertion swallows his body; beads of sweat pour down his face as the crushing weight of the Roleplay Gods bore down aggressively. If Atlas struggled holding the world for all eternity, this was so much worse. The pain only seemed to grow greater still, yet the mighty peasant Archon's unyielding faith in his conquest against Anime fuelled his very being. The magnificent shield, a bubble of pure, unfiltered power swirled unending; before reducing to nothing more than a speck in the vast ocean of stars that was the galaxy. So the prophecy had come to pass, the Peasant Archon had felled another All-Powerful character from Dragonball Z, or was it Naruto? It was irrelevant, the fight was over, the mighty peasant would return to his expansive fields of green... To farm for the rest of his days...

 

[Collidias Rex]

Rex quirked an eyebrow, standing at a distance as ... the thing happened.


"Well ..." he crouched and scooped a stone from the ground, weighing it in his palm, "... that happened."


He twisted around on his heel, drew a leg up, and lunged forward with a swing of his arm - hurling the rock at the next poster.

 

[Archon]

But behold! Whilst the good peasant Archon was tending his fields, some vile bandit came upon him with brutal force! The dastardly vagrant's projectile nearly struck true, missing by mere inches if it wasn't for Archon's incredible reflexes, which allowed him with a graceful leap through the air, to avoid the skilful attack; having avoided immediate harm, the flying peasant Archon landed unceremoniously in his formerly-neat pile of harvested cabbages. Then, a piercing shatter echoed across the farmstead, it's shriek cut through Archon's skin like a hot blade. No! That villain! The rock had smashed his most prized flowerpot - named Jeff - how could anyone be so malicious, as to wish harm upon Jeff?! The thought was absolutely inconceivable... Only...


The realization hit the peasant like a sack of bricks, the truth revealed itself in horrid fashion; this was the work of... An anime character! In Jeff's name, Archon brandished his mighty pitchfork, taking a carefully formed battle-stance, analysing his new opponent with great care. Then he rushed, completely ruining his previous formation, the best offence was a good offence; wiser words had never been said, Archon intended to heed them. Sprinting like a cheetah, the Peasant glided across the greenery, intending to pierce his opponent with the... blunt end of his pitchfork!

 

[Collidias Rex]

"Hey!" Rex growled and advanced in turn toward his new enemy. "I resent the meta-knowledge I inexplicably have of that inner monologue!"


He reached over his shoulder and drew his blade, deliberately brandishing the weapon before his approaching opponent. A sword - and most DEFINITELY not a katana, wakizashi or any other such manner of silliness - a simple European longsword. He slid into a stance completely reasonable for his weapon at hand, the handle secured tightly in both palms as he watched his incoming foe.


With six meters of space, he dashed forward and swept his blade around in a short circle, the spine of his blade catching the pitchfork halfway down the haft and leveraging it aside - parrying the blunt weapon aside where it missed by inches. He carried on forward, throwing his momentum into his opponent with a vicious knee-kick aimed at his opponent's gut.

 

[Archon]

Archon grunted as the kick violently connected with his stomach, the air vacated his lungs as he dropped to the ground with a pained groan, his eyes flickered up and lightened at the sight - the European longsword - with heavy pants, the peasant rose to his feet once more, ignoring the seering pain still lingering in his gut. "So, thou doth dare to challenge me, Archon, the mighty Peasant?!" The voice boomed across the skies with magnanimous power, the weather seemed to change in an instant; black storm clouds enveloped the countryside, the wind whistled and shrieked, lightning violently snapped and whip across the land.


"I, Archon, challenge thee to an honourable duel between two good Gentlemen! No silliness!" With brash confidence, the sound of steel leaving it's scabbard filled the air, Archon's arms raised in a intuitive stance; the European Longsword glistening in the glowing light the moon cast upon the lands. With great care, did the Peasant circle his opponent, his eyes scowering for an opening, a weakness, any mannerism which could turn the tide of this fight; so it would begin. Deftly did Archon disclose the menial distance between the two, he thrust the blade out aggressively before pulling it back in; not a second later did it move to impale once more. "For Jeff!" Archon cried, as his blade soared to skewer his opponent brutally.

 

[archur]

Wazzdakka was very confused as to where his body double happened to be at the time, Tzeentch said something about "AHOO HOO HOO! I HAVE A PLAN FOR YOU!" and then banished himself. Normal weaver of ways stuff. He scratched his head, and saw his double being flung about like a ragdoll. His double was known as an inferior offshoot of Ork, known as an "Orc." Lucky for him, Wazzdakka landed by smashing the ground while a confused old man absolutely beat the shit out of his "Orc" double. He stood over it, and tapped its shoulder. Its eyes fluttered open. "Did ah do it boss" 


"NO YOU STINKY GIT! QUIT MUCKIN' ABOUT AN' GET BACK TO FIGHTAN'!" 


With that, the double disappeared again, ready to baffle and switch places with him some other time after he repaid his favor to the changer of fates.


Suddenly, he was distracted by a duel. A humie duel. "For Jeff!" caught on his ears. Discarding his prior weapons, he grabbed his true weapon, a Kill Saw, from a boy unfortunate enough to be impaled by it, and charged in.


Swiftly, he knocked aside the first blow, and caught the sword on the second thrust. Pushing with enough force to throw the user and the sword backwards, he unleashed the power of "DA KRAZY KILLA!" which he shouted as he made a headlong rush, he jumped, using the back of a few boyz, and whirled around in the air like a top. A spinny, death dealing top.

 

[Count Gensokyo]

    A hermit had been walking by the scene, thoughtfully observing the carnage. A hulking beast came spinning through the air as it missed its target and began barreling straight for her. Due to her exceptional hearing, Miko made a swift heel-turn and flicked her cape, teleporting a fair distance away as the beast hit the ground. As she touched back on the ground, she extended her hand as she brandished a drawn sword, opening a space from which light energy surged out like gunfire across the immediate area after a brief pause.

 

[Hawkmoon]

Aria noticed the ongoing battle and rolled her eyes. She removed the accordion from her back and prepared to cast Vicious Mockery on the Hermit.

 

[DrabberRogue]

The young man observed the conflict before him with great interest, a perpetual smile fixed upon his face. He'd been about to turn and leave when another person imposed herself upon the battle. As she prepared her spell, presumably intended to counter the hermit's bullet hell attack, the boy decided he would take action to ensure he wasn't hit by it. After all, the bullet hell he could evade, but that other attack...


So he reached out to two nearby islands, draining them of their mana to cast...

 

[archur]

A little tired after all this fighting, and after all, being a big dude means that he uses up a lot of energy, and it's been a while since he has since last a eatin' squig. He decided to call upon his warp'ead to take care of 'dis majik trikkery'. The warp'ead, a cowardly, unwilling ork, was pulled forwards forcibly by his brethren. "Oi. Da git ova dere's castin' a majik. Do yer fing ova dere or sumfin." The boy started to shake his head until Wazzdakka smacked him across the face. The boy drew from a four islands, and quite a few of the mystic mountains to quell the tainted 'majiks in da air'

 

[Esper Alucard]

Magic eh? Time for a different card game

I attack my opponent directly

 

[DrabberRogue]

The young man laughed as the orc's counter-flux cleaned the battle field of all the spells being cast. "Very impressive, very impressive indeed!" But it was in that moment when a massive 1600 ATK fiend came lunging at him from out of nowhere. 


He merely smiled to himself. "Fool...You've activated my trap card..."

 

[SomeFakeUsername911]

I accept death.

 

[JRPG]

I counter your acceptance with death by electing a president that's against euthanization. @SomeFakeUsername911

 

[DrabberRogue]

I counter by electing Frank Underwood as Vice President!

 

[Doomshroud]

"In harsh times of old, with black wings of cold, the Dragon of 'Pex came unfurled; his power unbound, in a thread he'd again found, with an inspiration to swallow the world!"

Apex sat at the cold summit of a generic fictional mountain. His steely gaze overlooked the silent valley 'neath where he stood; overlooked the bloodstained villages mute with months long inactivity.

His hand caressed the ornamented hilt of his silver sword. t'd been too long since his sword had drunk the blood of enemies. The blade almost felt heavy in his hands, so long had he gone without swinging it. Strain shot through his shoulders under the weight of his pauldrons. He knew he should've stretched, but there was simply no time to be concerned with such things!

With guttural intonation he scoffed at the threat of this 'Frank Underwood'. To think that such a man would pose even the slightest threat to Apex's admittedly diminished power was laughable! And soon, all would agree..

The ivory knight raised his sword above his head, jaw rigid. His resolve to demonstrate his returning power and to jolt life back into the valley below drew thunder from the clouds above. The skies swirled grey; a fork of lightning struck the mountain upon which he stood.

Drawing a deep breath, Apex unleashed a murderous cry as he hurled his sword at the next poster with unprecedented precision. Perhaps he hadn't needed to stretch after all!

 

[Hall Kervean]

I will Indiana Jones it.
Prepare to eat lead, poster scum.

 

[Doomshroud]

"Screw thee, knave!" Apex snarled as the bullet impacted against the chestpiece of his armor with a rattling clang. The impact sent his plated form to the ground, back first against the concrete. A series of guttural curses rolled off his tongue; none of them made it through the writer's censorship.

Scrambling to his feet, out of instinct the knight reached for the pristine silver dagger at his side. With a pang (as his thrown sword clattered and fell into a nearby river), it occurred to him that perhaps he should've hurled his dagger at the enemy, rather than a sword.

Fury bubbled to the forefront of his mind. His eyes were locked on the next poster. His pride had been hurt at the hands of a dishonorable weapon, and his opponent was going to break under the weight of his righteous fury.

He hurled his dagger aside, hands balled into plated fists. As adrenaline coursed through his veins, Apex tore across the battlefield towards his next opponent, blind to his environment, to logic, to ANY form of reason beyond inflicting hurt on those that would dare attack him dishonorably.

He sprung at the next poster like a lion, attempting to tackle them down with the combined power of his knightly strength and the weight of his armor. If successful, he would initiate a series of endless, fury-driven jabs at his downed opponent's forehead, all the while shouting, "Deus vult! Deus vult! DEUS VULT! DEUS VUUUUUULT!"