How the NPF Saved Christmas Final: Merry Chrstimas to All, and to All a Good Fight!

[Toastburner B]

((OOC Wow…krylo’s post was so dramatic I almost hate to do this to him…

This is the final chapter/battle. Make it good. I will wrap things up (hopefully) on the evening of Christmas Eve. Until then…have fun.))

All six shots were right on target. Had krylo been awake to see them, he would have been proud…and very disappointed to see all six bounce off a invisible shell about a foot out from the elf.

With a contemptuous sigh, the elf gestured. The demon swordsmen fell back into formation around the elf.

“Fools,” the elf said, “you think I would leave myself unprotected?”

From over in a corner where no one had looked, came a voice.

“Stop this madness, Tinkle! Think of the children! I only have 15 minutes before it’s too late!” a jolly-looking old dude yelled from a cage. Standing beside him was an elderly woman.

If you can’t figure out who they are, then you really haven’t been paying attention.

“SILENCE!” the elf cried. “This is all your fault anyways! For centuries my kind has made the toys! 364 days a year! And who gets all the credit? YOU! You, who only work one day a year, and even then with magic! Well…I’ll show the world that it’s the elves who should get the credit! And I’ll show the elves here how pointless you are without them! Then I will become as famous as you, and take your place!”

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The ghost of Toastburner hovered in the doorway. “Great…all this over a labor dispute.”

The watch that Toastburner wore began to beep. “Good! My respawn time is up!” The ghost of TB turned to Pyros. “I suggest you get in there. He’s an elf, but remember he has enough power to summon and control all these demons.”

With that, Toastburner bolted towards his nearest respawn point…making a slight detour on the way.
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The elf levitated off the chair. “Very well, then. If you wish to save Santa, you will have to get through me…and my favorite minions.”

Two large tears in space-time appeared, and out stepped to balrogs, LOTR style, each aflame, one wielding the fiery sword, the other carrying the fiery whip. The demon swordsmen went into a combat stance once more.

“Of course,” the elf said, “I am not incapable of fighting myself.”

It glared at IC, as he was the closest. With a flick of his hand, a dark bolt of energy fired from his staff and ripped towards IC. ((OOC: You’re cue, IC))

The elf grinned. “Let it end here,” he said.

[Inbred Chocobo]

IC was fending off the swordsmen quite well for his condition. The gash wasn't letting him go jumping everywhere, but with the Wind Edge in hand, he could at least parry the blades. He kept this up even as Krylo made his entrance and passed out.

Sweat dripped down off of IC. His left side was now covered in his blood from his wounds, and his breathe was hard and terrible, and yet when the demons stopped, he knew something was up. The smoke cleared on its own, showing IC in his full battle weary self.

He looked towards the elf, listening to his words, and started back as the balrogs stepped through their portals. IC did what he could do for a defensive stance, but it showed that he was tired. Suddenly the balrog shot that dark bolt of energy, and IC went to throw the Wind Edge to tear it apart, but acouple to his injuries and the balrog's speed, he just wasn't fast enough.

The Wind Edge went off in a random direction as the surge of energy struck its target dead on. IC went sailing across the room, with wounds that seemed to eat at the flesh itself. As he soared, his head connected to the floor, and an audible crack was heard, then like a ragdog, he went end over end, leaving a trail of bloodas he slide to a stop at the end. No movement was seen, no breathe was made, IC had fallen, and he wasn't getting up.

[_mike]

When the Ice trolls had suddenly popped back up around Mike and the others, he abandoned his plan to follow the path of Raiden's destruction, and had run down the closest hallway. As luck would have it, Mike managed to run almost straight to Phil. In fact, he arrived just in time to kick Fenrir in the head. Now realizing that what he had just done was suicidally moronic, Mike yelled to Phil, “Ok, now what?”

“Leg. Heal!”

“Um, sure. ●Cure!"

[phil_]

Phil gave his knee a bend. He'd been waiting for an excuse to get that kink out of it.

Fenrir got up and shook his head. The look on his face was the same as Garm's had been in the stables. The zombie TB had also freed itself. Phil was fairly sure that he wasn't strong enough to survive this. However, he had yet another flash of insight. Since they'd kept him alive this long, he decided to go with it.

"Hey, Mike. You know what we have to do, right? Even though Krylo will hate us for it."

"Krylo already hates us. Let's just get this over with."

Phil raised a hand and dismissed both his summons. Before hopping into Manga Space, he yelled, "Trust in the Heart of the Cards!" Mike died a little inside, then hopped into Manga Space as well. As the white lines flew past them, Phil and Mike stood about two shoulder lengths apart, facing the same way. Their arms were raised to their chests, parallel to the ground and pointing away from the middle. The two started edging toward eachother in perfet symmetry on their toes, turning their arms in a circle over their heads and towards the center, saying "Fyu-u-u-u." Right before their fingertips met, they snapped their arms back to their original poses and simultaniously snapped their center-most knees across their other leg, and yelled "Shun!" They then stomped their raised legs down, touched their fingertips together, creating a circle shape, and yelled, "Ha!"

Back on the farm, Fenrir waited for Phil to come down from Manga Space. He'd seen Phil use that technique in the stables twice; only one person was coming down. He just couldn't figure out why Phil and Mike had attacked eachother. Must be some honor thing. Then Manga Space opened again, and one person came down. However, it wasn't either of the people who'd entered. A guy in an orange cape and blue robe, split down the sides up to the waist, with a black dobak underneath dusted himself off, looked at his hand, and said, "We look an awful lot like Mike. Ah well..." The man-boy's voice was actually two voices--Phil's and Mike's. Phil_Mike was back. His hair was curlier in the back than the front, and he had the beginnings of a beard on his cheeks and a fine goatee-looking thing. His arm-hair was almost disgusting in its splendidness, long and shiny. However, his arms were much larger than either of the two who'd entered Manga Space. In his right hand, he held a hatchet on a long, springy pole.

Phil_Mike looked down his nose at Fenrir and ZTB. Pointing with his left hand, he waved his index finger between them as he chanted "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo, I guess I'll kill," his finger snapped at ZTB, "you first." With an annoying smirk, Phil_Mike disappeared, then reappeared in front of ZTB. "Tae!" Phil_Mike kicked the cat under his chin, sending him skyward before they both disappeared again. "Kwon!" They appeared above ZTB and palm-striked him toward the floor again. Phil_Mike cast Blink on themself and appeared on the ground the same time ZTB hit it. "Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-DO!" Phil_Mike hit the prone cat eight times in the blink of an eye with the Um Yang Su technique.

The fusion then hopped back. "Now, you're really gonna get it!" Both voices seperated and said simultaniously, "۞Summon: Gate of Fire!" "●Flare!" A hole appeared in the air behind Phil_Mike, leading to the elemental plane of fire. The fusion then pointed with both hands, and a bolt of plasma jetted at the still prone ZTB, incinerating what was left of the zombie cat. Fenrir, being more intelligent than head-strong, ran off to help his master. Phil_Mike followed, confident that they'd find the demon's leader wherever Gliepnir was.

[The Wizard Who Did It]

... can't take text-box color into account. True, but they have to mean something. Plus, the way it's said does seem to point toward Fighter. Fighter's a complete retard, there is no way-- Hey, look who's awake. Shut up.

The Wizard just noticed that he was on the ground with blood all over the floor, and he felt somehow very dirty. Please tell me that all this demon shit is over. He looked up and saw that Toastburner and Pyros were walking away.That thing was a Rakshasa!?!? That explains a whole lot. ...What? Yeah, they take a whole to take down, as well as having the ability to create weapons and armor that they've seen out of thin air. They also have this really qicked blade that can kill immortals. Please... be quiet. Caughing up blood, the Wizard slowly tries to pick himself up, and drops to the ground. Glowing a feint white color, he casts cure on himself and rises slowly to his feet. Noticing that he is at the moment not very decent, he summons another cloak to wrap around himself and drops to his knee.

Slwoly raising himself, he decides that he might as well go back to see if Krylo won yet.

He moves with an unrealistic speed throught the hole he came through and down the destroyed hallway.
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By the time he made it to the room, Krylo was gone and the Shapeshifter's corpse was lying on the ground, with Hydra parts all over the walls. It's kind of amazing how this castle stood that explosion so well. A loud crumble could be heard, before the roof caved in. Now feeling a lot better than he did some 20 seconds ago, he dashed out of the room before it collapsed.

"I guess it's time I got to the throne room."

Turning around, he walked to the throne room.
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Wait... wait... we had to go through all this shit because some elf thought all this Christmas stuff was unfair... isn't that what unions are for?

He looks down and sees Krylo's body on the floor. Casting a low-level healing spell to see if it helps, Krylo does not stur.

We've... lost people... these guys actually took out members of the NPF...

Walking in the room at normal speed, the Wizard raised his sword as a a fireball shot from the Elf struck at him. Blocking it with steel and natural resistance, the Wizard felt no effect. With that, he raised his hand, and shot an ice spell at the Balrog as he dodged it's whip and grabbed on to the wall.

With a loud voice surely carried on by magic, the Wizard yelled, "All NPFs in the building still alive and conscious, report to the Throne Room. For otherwise, we are now royally fucked. I repeat..."

And he did indeed repeat his message some three times while dodging the Balrog's weaponry, who clearly thought he was a nuisance.

[PyrosNine]

Sub Pyros nodded. He disappeared in a puff of smoke and reentered Pyros's brain.

SP: Pyros! Awaken! You have a job to do!
P: Carebears...
SP: Put down the half eaten Carebear and wake up!
P:But I like this dream!
SP: Yes, but if you don't wake up, you'll miss the final battle!
P:No! Pyros no want wake up! Pyros attack carebears!
SP: You forget, my concious friend, that I am your subconcious, so whatever you dream is what I want you to dream about! (Snap!)
P: Hey wait...this is...this iss...
SP: Yes, this is the party before Ragnarok.
P:And i'm....
SP: Yep. And look who's coming?
P: ....
SP: He's looking really happy to see you!P:AASKAASKFAKSDFJASDF!

Pyros snapped awake in a flash, clawing at everything in sight. "ZOMG BAD BAD MEMS!"
Realizing he was awake, and lying under a jacket. First things first. He stretched his body, licked himself, scratched his ear, lapped some water, licked himself, stretched some more, ate what had apparently been a piece of a fruitcake golem (cuz Pyros loves fruitcake!) Hawked up a furball, then drank some water then licked himself further.

Then he finally got around to doing something important.


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the balrogs lashed their flame whips around, roaring at the group assembled in front of the dark elf. The lead one swung his whip at the group, who were quick to get the hell out of the way. The whip continued toward the prone figure of Krylo. Before it could hit however, it could be said that it hit a "firewall"

"ACCESS DENIED MUTHAFUNKER!" Pyros cackled as his own flameshield repelled the whip, causing it to bash against it's wielder. It was harmless to the balrog, but to Balrogs, it was an insult. They roared. They were still not aware of who they were fighting.

"BRING IT ON, OLD TIMERS!" The firekitty hissed. A firey pounce nocked one to the side and a kitty blast sent another flying at the Evil Elf, who deflected it with his shield. Pyros smiled at the elf.

The firekitty was back in the Game!

[mammothtank]

Still carrying Mauve, MT screeched to a halt. "Whew... I think we finally lost them..." Breathing heavily, he set Mauve down, and dropped to his knees. A moment later, he looked up. "Hey, do you hear that?" he asked the mage. "I think it's either fierce combat or a really bad rock band, and I know which one seems more likely."
Standing up, he noticed a large set of double doors nearby. "Hey, that's the throne room! We didn't miss the final battle! Woo-hoo!" Suddenly full of energy again, MT drew his sword and ran inside. A moment later, he ran back out, his face even more pale than usual. "Heheh... Balrog... that's great... I'm gonna die," he whimpered, trembling with fear. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. "No... I can do this. I can help my friends! I can make a difference! I'll do it!" Gripping the shining blade tightly, he charged back into the throne room. "BRING IT!" he shouted.

[Premmy]

OOC: Pyros, my intro post, Narrator is a disembodied voice that follows me around and I apologize for what I'm about to do
Premonitions was far too fast for some trolls to catch him. He looked back and saw
that he had already caught up with his friends as he took the advice of the loud voice he assumed was the Narrarator "I could be watching the Godzilla marathon right now" (really I could) He slid and crashed past the door and quikly picked himself and entered to see two large fiery monsters and several swordsmen, he opted for the demons and pulled out his "Twelve Aches of Christmas" set of weapons,
Twelve time bombs,
Eleven, Super Mushrooms,
Ten, Metal Boxes
Nine, Golden Stars
Eight,Super feathers
Seven, Moonstones
Six, Heros Charms
Five, Po-wer Bracelets!
Four, Bomb-Bombs
Three, Boomerangs
Two, Turtle shells
And a, Four sword to make it all worse
After all of this he had split into four of himslef each one giant, metal, temporarily invincible, gifted with flight and super strong flinging bombs
left and right. Two of him attacked the one with the sword, the other two the one with the wip. They clashed with great sounds of metal and fire as the "original" Premonitions and the one wearing red and black threw the wip wielding Balrog to the ground and attempted to crush him under their feet.

[Truce]

It hurt more than he had thought it would. He had never once expected Mr. Viewtiful to be that strong.

Yet...

Yet he couldn't just let things end this way. He still had things to do.

The others were still alive, after all. They were still fighting. He could hear all of them, he could still feel their fighting spirit, and he wasn't about to let himself die a pathetic death.

With the help of the two hell hounds, Ecurt got back up and reattached Gleipnir to the P-Cane. Gripping his weapon, he looked to his enemy, and charged. Using his whole body, he struck at his foe, only to be met with an invisible barrier. "Impossible..."

Tinkle simply glanced behind him, frowning at Ecurt. "So," he said, murder in his voice. "You think you can betray me? You think I could be killed by a traitor like you?

"Die." The tiny elf raised a hand to Ecurt, and shot a purple bolt of demonic energy at the draconian. In an instant, Ecurt was back on his back, the armor on his chest simply burnt away, and the damned elf was laughing at his pathetic state.

Garm and Cerberus growled at Twinky until Ecurt pushed himself back up with his weapon. Again, he struck at Twinky, and again the invisible shield blocked him, and again Twinky blew him away. Even when Garm and Cerberus joined in the attack...even when Fenrir appeared to help, all of them were simply sent crashing into back into the wall.

However...he could feel it. A place where the force field was weakening, where it could be shattered. All he needed was the right attack.

"Mr. Viewtiful," he said, getting up once more time. "It's time."

[phil_]

Phil_Mike entered the antechamber to the booming call of TWWDI. Stepping through a Pyros hole, they saw two golems, one missing three limbs and one cut in half. It looked like Darth and Raiden were preparing something, so Phil_Mike regretfully left them to their own devices and entered the throne room (dodging a barrage of candied fruit, as was required).

In the throne room, Phil_Mike found a near-dead squid with a burst ink sack; five demon swordsmen closing in on a prone IC; two balrogs fighting TWWDI, Pyros, and Premonitions; a caged Santa; an apparently dead Kry, and an elf on a throne. Phil_Mike's arm hair bristled with excitement. "Looks like ya'll're havin' a party. Too bad no one's dancing with those swordsmen. We'll take care of that." Phil_Mike vanished and appeared next to IC. Adressing the swordsmen, Phil_Mike gave a wag of his finger. "You guys would fight a furry while he's down? Bad form, bad form." He then drew his axe-on-a-stick and blocked a sword swing. He then shifted his weight and caught another sword, leaving him with two dead-locked demon warriors. Looking the first swordsman he'd parried in the face, Phil_Mike yelled, "Instant Death Times 10!" He then hocked a loogie in the demon's eyes, catching it off guard. With a twist, Phil_Mike tumbled under the swordsman, pointed a finger at it's crotch, and yelled "●Summon: Bowling Ball!" A red bowling ball appeared at the end of his left index finger. "One Inch Strike!" Phil_Mike punched the ball with his left hand, smashing it into the swordsman's pelvis. Even if the thing didn't have "dangley parts," it would have trouble walking after having its crotch-armor folded in. Phil_Mike finished his roll behind the demon, hopped up, and round house kicked the swordsman in the neck, sending it tumbling into its nearest compatriot. It wasn't two dead, but it was two down, for the moment.