NPF Avatars: The Journey of a lifetime

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

"But... You know I get explosive diaorrhea whenever I consume Flamers!" Rhiya protested, while in the back ground a disembodied voice of Arhra muttered "Incidentally, if you have Dire Rats and such as being stronger than just rats, would a stronger Rhiya make her a Dire Rhiya? Get it?"

Pointedly ignoring that voice from the nether hells of the Chat of 8Bit, Rhiya glared in the general vicinity of Arhra, making a note to rain fiery death on hi-err - her later on. Preferrably in Dragon stomach acid. With Flamer chunks. From her rear.

Rhiya shrugged and formed half a shield with her right wing, effectively bouncing off flaming rocks.

"THAT'S CHEATING, YOU BITCH!" the flamer that threw said rocks yelled.

There was a noise that sounded very much like the silence before the storm. There was literally a small sucking noise as the universe - or Nuklear Power Forums, at least - seemed to take a deep breath and wait.

"Right... What did you call me?" Rhiya said nicely, blocking more incoming shots. Those nearby could see the RFS thermometer rising slowly but surely.

RFS: 40

"YOU'RE A GODDAMNED NOOB, Y'KNOW? NOT TO MENTION THE BIGGEST BITCH AROUND!"

RFS: 60

"Uh huh? But what's that to you?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! NOBODY WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU BITCH!"
More stones and one large charring stick.

RFS: 80

"Sooo... people would want to listen to you?"

"GO TO HELL, BITCH! YOU'RE NOT WANTED HERE BECAUSE YOU SMELL LIKE THE NETHER-REGIONS OF LAZYMAN'S UNDERARM!!"

RFS: 500

"I WHAT?!"

**The following scene has been cut out due to extensive, horrific violence and blood-shedding, extreme language, and occasional puns that would not be fit even for the deepest pits of pun hell.***

Several bloody and gory seconds later, Rhiya's blood-red rage diminished to a mere 50 RFS. She swayed a little, still covered from head to toe in carnage of at least 10 or more of the Flamers. Rhiya looked down.

"... I seem to be wearing an intestinal scarf, a flamer's skin as a cloak and another pair of eyeballs as earrings," Rhiya said as she passed out on her feet and collapsed.

[Truce]

The attack had finally begun, and the flamers started things off with throwing things at other people like they always did. Though they targeted some of the more vulnerable members of the group Krylo, acting the part of the bad ass, quickly stepped in to intercept the projectiles, while Mauve had taken it upon herself to find to cure the fallen Twiddy. Premonitions was there too, with his motion sensor bombs, and Fenris had the Uber Longknife, both fighting in their own ways. Darth had been the only one to take melee action so far, unless you counted Rhiya (because most of it was censored so nobody could really tell), though it was more seen than heard; he had disappeared into the crowd of enemies, but it was easy to hear the screams of his victims and the sickeningly loud crunch of bones.

And what of Pyros? Well...he was reading a book.

After taking note of everybody's individual plans (or, lack of plans, as the case sometimes may be), Ecurt drew Gleipnir from his side and, with a beat of his wings, he took to the air. Using the higher elevation to his advantage, he quickly spotted Darth, as well as a large group of flamers that were heading in his direction. Knowing that not even Darth would be able to handle a mob of that size without a little bit of trouble, he decided to do a little something about them. Not a lot, mind you, but easily enough to make them a less of a threat to his friend.

Suddenly, a spike of air slammed into one of the flamers in the group. Caught by surprised, it sent him flying into the other flamer next to him, who crashed into another flamer, who crashed into another flamer, and so on and so on. Within a matter of moments the entire pack was sprawled on the ground atop of one another, none entirely sure exactly what had transpired. Not that that had ever stopped them before.

Soon, they were up again, and burning with more anger than before. However, this time they were at each other's throats. They futilely began to blast each other with their flames, occasionally bringing in another flamer to the brawl with a missed attack. One flamer tried to get them to stop and work together, to focus the fight upon the NPF Regulars. He was the first one to die.

The battle amongst themselves continued on and on, and whether they had immunity to fire or not they began to tire out. Soon some were knocked out, extinguished by exhaustion.

Eventually, only one flamer that had outlasted all the rest in the pointless battle remained standing. That was, of course, until a gigantic plushie of the cat from Trigun dropped from the sky and smothered the poor, poor flamer to death.

With that group taken out, Ecurt returned to the ground level, beside Krylo, Mauve and Twiddy, to see how the other people were fairing in their battles.

[POS Industries]

And then there were sirens.

They began echoing in the distance, barely audible over the sounds of the battle at hand, but kept getting louder. Then the sound of a horn from a very large vehicle. Then an old man yelling, "Watch where you're going, you goddamned whippersnapper! You're driving like a bat out of Hades!" Then the roar of an engine. Then several thuds as a handful of flamers got run over by a bright red firetruck.

The truck skidded to a halt, swerving dangerously to the point of nearly rolling over, and out hopped POS, looking behind him at what he had just hit. Laying several meters behind the fire engine were the broken, dismembered, smoldering remains of the flamers that he had just turned into roadkill. Pedro scratched his head as he tried to figure out exactly what they were.

...and their bodies burn bright with the flames of destruction...

He looked at the dead flamers, then at the truck, then over his shoulder at the battle that was still raging on. "The Space Pope," he growled, "How could he have...."

POS cut off his thought as he put two and two together and walked over to the side of the truck, grabbing a hose and a very large wrench, then ran to the nearest conveniently placed fire hydrant, dragging the hose behind him which connected to the engine itself. Attaching the hose to the hydrant, he used the wrench to turn the valve on the top to full blast and ran back to the engine, climbing on top of the large vehicle.

A minute later, the flamer hordes were getting very nicely blasted with several hundred gallons of pressurized water from the sprayer on the top of the firetruck. As a thick cloud of steam erupted and filled the area with a fine mist, POS could only shake his head. A coincidence of this nature simply annoyed him, because it made him realize that there is such a thing as fate.

And that fate is very, very poorly written.

[Arhra]

Arhra had been chowing down on some sweet, sweet candy on the way to the Mashirosen, it being generally agreed in the NPF to be the best way to recover MP if time wasn't too much of an issue. Unfortunately, it also meant Arhra was in the middle of a sugar rush.

Thus upon seeing the flamers, those fiery flingers of poorly devised insults (and also rocks and things), her words didn't quite fit the gravity of the situation. In fact, she downright giggled before saying, "Oh noes! A bunch of enemies with a glaringly obvious weakness that I can easily take advantage of! Whatever am I to do?" Hopped up on candy, she wasn't in dire need of conserving mana for the most essential of things (like clothes) anymore. Arhra did the obvious thing to do.

She summoned the Leviathan.

The flamers threw insults and other more physically hurtful things at the giant flying snake-like creature when it appeared, but the Leviathan paid no heed to their barrage. You didn't get to legendary summon status by letting a bunch of forum trash beat you down. It wasn't like they were in range to really do any damage either. The massive sea serpent coiled in the air for a few seconds and then unleashed it's water element power. The Leviathan shimmered with a blue light and turned into masses of water. A tidal wave swept over the battlefield, a great foaming wall of water that threatened to sweep away practically everything in it's path.

A number of the flamers had time for a last confused "Stfu?" before it roared over them with almost malicious seeming force, casting up great clouds of steamy fog as it came into contact with their flames. Most of them were carried away towards the beach, possibly being pushed over a cliff in the process and perhaps even carried right out to sea.

Tidal waves were not the most precise of attacks however. Arhra watched the inundation of water briefly turn a plain into a lake with a slightly crazed smile on her face, not really noticing she'd gotten completely drenched by splashing water and the dense clouds of fog the flamer's flames had caused.

She giggled again muttering things half to herself like, "All washed up eh? Don't forget to wave. The tide waits for no man. Life's a beach and then you die." If those unfortunate flamers hit by the tidal wave hadn't been done in yet, surely the bad puns would finish them off. Clearly Arhra and large amounts of sugar were dangerous.

[POS Industries]

...but there are others who are without tolerance and will wash these fiends away in a great wave of justice...

POS could only sit there, jaw dropped, in stunned silence. Here before him he had witnessed a giant snakebeast being called into existance and washing away the vast majority of the flamer hordes in giant tsunami. Of course, the event itself wasn't what shocked him. It was that a few minutes earler, in downtown NPF, he had heard it predicted. He didn't know how the Space Pope did it, what special cognizance or bizarre chemical cocktail had gone into it, but the prophesy was being fulfilled. Pedro shook his head once more at the situation and decided to worry about later. A number of the flamers had survived Arhra's onslaught and needed to be dealt with.

And so, POS once again returned to hosing down the enemies before him, concerning himself only with the task at hand. Thinking about anything more than that sent a shiver down his spine. One thing was certain, however...

...once this was all over, he was taking the Space Pope to Vegas.

[Darth SS]

Darth flat out sprinted at them. One of them threw a stone at him, and he neatly stepped around it. Briefly, his hand brushed over his combat knife but he voted against it. He was going to enjoy this.

"BUM RUSHING NOOB!"

Darth smiled. One of them swung a club like a bludgeon but did it poorly. Darth jumped, landed on the bludgeon, and slammed his foot into the flamer's face. It crumpled like a tin-can and sprayed sticky stuff all over his rivals. That wasn't all though, and Darth actually used the absolutely shattered skull as a foot-hold, tossing himself into the air.

He paused in mid-air for a moment. Anyone who'd been in the last two adventures knew what was coming next. The 360 clear-out. Like a bullet, he came down and slapped the ground. It flowed like water, a wave coming out, and flamers being thrown aside all around. Darth landed in the centre of the carnage and tried to think of his next move.

Someone hit him with a rock in the head. One of the lucky few who'd avoided being tossed aside. Darth rounded.

"Haha! Take that you bloody newb! Gonna' cry? Gonna go cry to your mommy?"

He was hiding behind a pal. No matter. Darth actually punched right through that flamer's head, grabbed the offender's tongue, then pulled him clean through the first flamer's mouth before punching him so hard that the back of his skull broke, spraying gore all around. Unfortunately, the rest of the flamers were getting back around.

Darth spun and raised a hand. Telekinetically, he grabbed a flamer and turned him inside out before whipping out his combat knife and stabbing another in the stomach. He dragged the knife up, and let the innards fall out. A flamer punched him across the face, then stopped to gloat. Darth killed him. Another hit him in the back with...something. Darth didn't know, just that it hurt and he fell over. Then inspiration struck. He rounded, and ran up that flamer. Then he jumped into the air, and started to fly.

This had to be done just right however. He pulled a block of C4 from his backpack and threw it down at the mob. Unfortunately, there was no remote activator, and his hands were full.

"KRYLO!"

[mauve]

Mauve had propped her elbows on the top of the plushie's head, cradling her chin in her hands. A smile crossed her lips as the multiple explosions and slaughterings went on before her very eyes. This was what could be called prime entertainment, and Mauve was enjoying the show.

Her magic was recovering slowly but surely, and she had found a Snickers bar in her Pockets of Near Infinite Holding to help refill faster. She was now enjoying said candy while watching the drama unfold.

Krylo was keeping an eye on her and Twiddy, protecting them from the fiery horde while venting a little frustration. As always, his gunmanship was truly a sight to behold. Several times, Mauve was certain she or Twiddy was going to get hit by a flaming stone, but with barely an effort, Krylo shot the projectiles back at their owners.

Ecurt, meanwhile, had gone off to help Darth in his Ass-Kicking Rampage of Doom, the undead attacking from above and the Sith on the ground. The pair of them mowed down flamers like they were standing still.

Rhiya had gone into an absolutely beautiful display of flamer destruction, although Mauve had missed most of the show due to censorship. The winged woman was now unconscious on the floor, clad in the entrails of her prey.

POS and Arhra had taken the "opposing elements" route, the former with the aid of a firetruck and hydrant, and the latter with Leviathan. Massive clouds of steam rose into the air as water met fire, and the hiss of escaping steam echoed the dying screams of the unfortunate flamers.

It was--

"Hey! You suck!" The cry tore Mauve from her evaluation of the battle. She turned. Somehow, flamers had ended up behind them, too. Nice.

"Just ignore them and they'll go away, or they'll get shot by Krylo," she muttered to herself, leaning back over the plushie's head. She was just getting into Darth's karate awesomeness again when something hot and sharp impacted with her left shoulderblade. Mauve grabbed the plushie's ears to keep herself from falling off.

"Who threw that?!" she yelled angrily. More flamers emerged from behind them, holding rocks and other weapons of flamitude. Uh-oh. Darth needed Krylo's help right now, and everyone else seemed to have spread out across the battlefield.

"You suck!" the sound came again. "WTF is wrong with you?! Everyone else is fighting, so WTF is your @*(&( problem?! If you're too @*#$ weak to do anything, then you don't need to LIVE!" Mauve raised an eyebrow and looked at Twiddy.

"I don't suppose you'd have enough MP to go halvies with me on some kind of Flamer Doom spell, would you?" she asked.

[The Wizard Who Did It]

The Wizard had been lying on his back, enjoying the spectacle around him. There were 5,000 plus people on the forum, and only 60 regulars. Tops. The place needed to be cleaned, and this was a perfect excuse to do it. The Wizard sat up and looked back at Mauve.

"Mauve, I hardly have the MP to ice one of their fiery asses to hell. Maybe next time, but right now I have to recover. However, I have another weapon that can do the job for me.”

He put his hand to his mouth and whistled. Charon had been watching Krylo turn the flamers into goo, his tongue flopping out. He turned his head and looked at the Wizard for a second, his cute little form at attention. His face then broke into a dog-like grin and he jumped on the Wizard and started licking his face. The Wizard laughed, and grabbed onto his dog. He looked at him in the face and started talking excitedly, “Do you want to kill something? Do you want to mess up those flamers? Yes you do! Yes you do! Now, go get them.”

The dog then started to walk over to the flamers. He passed by Mauve, and sniffed her once. A yip came from his throat, and he seemed to glide toward the posters. “WTF! He is sending a fuckin weak bitch afte rus!”

One of the flamers laughed and threw a rock at Charon. Charon stopped for a few seconds, and they roared with laughter. He trembled, and all of a sudden it seemed like an explosion took place. Charon grew. And grew. And grew. And got bigger. And taller. His normally nice and cute face started to snarl and grow pointed and mean. Bulges started appearing around his neck, and what seemed to grow out was not one, not two, but three extra heads. He almost looked like Cerberus, except he had one too many heads and a white sleek coat. He howled like a wolf, then lunged at the flamers.

One of them tried to raise his sword, but Charon had already sunk his teeth into his neck. Another one came from behind, and another of the many heads jabbed out to take him out. The other two noticed a poster trying to spear the dog, and Charon gracefully flipped over the pole arm. He landed on all fours, and got back to work as soon as his pads touched the ground. His tail smacked another flamer, and the attack was quickly followed up by a vicious bite. Only the flamer with a pole arm was left, and the beast growled in his direction. He dropped his weapon, and ran off.

The Wizard whistled again, and Charon began to shrink. He pranced over to the Fallen Sorcerer and nuzzled his face. The Wizard smiled, when Charon all of a sudden ran toward Mauve and sniffed her. The Wizard rolled his eyes and laid back down to watch Krylo kick some ass.

[Krylo]

When Darth hollared his name, Krylo saw the C-4 falling, and quickly wished he had some explosive bullets with him. You see, C-4 is extremely stable, as far as explosives go, and shooting it, even with a high-powered rifle, isn't enough to make it go off. It takes a smaller explosion, generally in the form of a blast cap to set off C-4, but Krylo only had one explosive thing on him: Grenades.

Well, actually, he had several, but they were all the same thing, so, much like the people who buy three hundred cans of cat food and go to the 'ten items or less' check out, we're just going to call them all one thing.

Anyway, he slid one of his pistols away, freeing up a hand to grab out a grenade. The pin was ejected with practiced ease before he tossed it forward just a little way allowing him to punt it toward the C-4.

As soon as the grenade left his foot, however, he was already pulling his gun back out and pivoting, his right pistol aimed directly toward the head of one of the flamers behind the others, while the other followed the grenade through the air.

He glanced at Mauve. "You going to handle them?" he asked, just as he fired off a bullet at his own grenade.

The grenade, by that time, was right next to the C-4 and the bullet set it off, which, in turn, set off the C-4, creating a huge flash of destructive light, while the Mod's attention was turned fully toward the greyish-pink mage.

It was about then that Charon started ripping apart the flamers, and Krylo lifted his arm back up at the sight. "Nevermind, then," he said with a wry grin as he turned back toward the tower.

[PyrosNine]

Still floating, Pyros turned to the next page of his book.

MY LORD, WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?

"My god! It's so beautiful! Go death go!" Pyros cheered. Although he was getting kinda near the end of his book, and it seemed like it'd take a bit longer for them to defeat the flamers. Oh well. You never had reading time until you didn't want reading time, so he might as well grin and bear it.

Besides, he also had a copy of "Come Come Paradise" on him to further bide the time.