Nightmare UMVC3 MovesetNightmare UMVC3 Moveset4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 Moveset:
Species: Evil Spirit/Sword
Game Series: Soul Series
First Appearance: Soul Edge (1995)
Health: 1,050,000 HP Points
Voice Actor: Patrick Ryan
Power Ranking (Out of 7)
Energy Projection: 5
Fighting Ability: 7
Assist Alpha: Soul Edge Guillotine (Direct, Tilt Down)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Beta: Soul Edge Spear (Direct, Front)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Gamma: Soul Wave (Direct, Instant)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
There was a time when a man named Siegfried Schtauffen took control of the Soul Edge, becoming powerless under the power of the blade. He eventually was able to retrieve his mentality and used the power of the holy blade Soul Calibur in order to save his body. He was separated from his Nightmare form and became the new wielder of Soul Calibur, while Inferno made a pact with Zasalmel, who made him a new body of his own. Thus Nightmare was born
Didn't mean to scare you, oops(Requested by Dekler :3)Didn't mean to scare you, oops4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She opened her eyes, and saw that the Enderman had backed away slightly, and was now holding out a hand to help her up. The blond stared. What... Why on earth? In utter confusion, she grabbed it's hand and let out a yelp as it hoisted her to her feet with ease and held out the diamond block she'd abandoned when she'd run away. But why? Fleet tilted her head and took the block, looking into the Enderman's eyes. It stared back and seemed to quiver a little, but it could still move. Why? Just... Why?
The answer was because it liked those big bright blue eyes, and the shiny hair. The Enderman wondered whether or not the hair was soft. Fleet didn't understand why it was staring at her hair... Did it want to pet her or someth- Her question was answered as it raised it's hand to her head and ran it through her short hair. It sent a small shock through her, jolting her body. It was indeed soft, and the Enderman could detect a
The Nightshades: Chapter ThreeThe Nightshades: Chapter Three3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Games > Elder Scroll Series > Pre Skyrim
Pairings: Cicero / Future Dragonborn - Listener
Location: Bravil 188 4E (well before events at Helgen in 4E 201)
Story Status: Complete!
(All Chapters 1 - 6 posted)
Summary: Tasked with delivering an important message to the Listener Alisanne Dupre in Bravil, a young and cocky Cicero let's curiosity get the best of him. The Listener's stammering and seemingly meek apprentice Beatriz, he soon learns is but a year his junior. She is also an "innocent" and not apart of the Dark Brotherhood. At least not yet according to Alisanne and even though Cicero is ordered, during his short stay to help protect yet keep his distance from her apprentice, he cannot help but bend the rules. To not just find out why Beatriz holds the Night Mother's interest but his as well.
Warning: I choked up a little during writing this chapter. So you may need a tissue too.
His hand upon her cheek t
GlassJosie was digging holes out behind the kitchen when Matt found her. She held up something small and wriggly in greeting. “Look, I found an earthworm!”Glass2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Matt crouched down beside the hole and leaned forward, balancing himself with one hand. “Nah, I don't think that's an earthworm, Josie. It looks like some kind of larval beetle.”
“No, it should be -” she broke off and her face fell. “Glass says it's a rhinoceros beetle larva.” She dropped the creature and sighed loudly.
“And you're just going to believe it?”
“Well, it's Glass.” She shrugged.
“And what does Glass have to say about this?” Matt frowned and moved his fingers in a flickering pattern that was too complicated for Josie to follow.
“That can't be right.” Josie giggled. “Glass says you're a lesser spotted palewing butterfly. Have you filed a bug report?”
Matt looked at her seriously. “Josie, you can see right now that
Ellie, chap. 1.Ellie, revisited.Ellie, chap. 1.2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
This is the story: a girl came and went with a train whistle, the galaxy broke, and somewhere between a decaying church and white walls, I fell in love.
That is a mess. I know it's a mess, and that's really only the story, but that's not the truth. The truth of what happened is one big ball of near nothingness and half forgotten could-be-truths. I don't want to remember. I have to remember.
This is not a love story. This is a story about a girl with black hair and cracked fingernails and these are words I have taken from her skin, words that haunt me and words that thrill me. But more than anything, these are words for her, the unbreakable shattered girl.
* * * *
It is May 25th, 5:56 a.m.; I watched sunrise with a pounding heart. The light spilled over the train ahead of me, the 6 a.m. Freight, and I felt that crack in the universe right between the sunlight and the dark, and part of m
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".Sweep2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
RenovationsThey will come again, and when they do, the others will hide.Renovations2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Mr. Brown will curl up in his hole in the eaves. The Wife in the crawlspace, and I'll be here, clutching my dear ones close. I'm wrapping my legs around them, and I can hear them fidget against the soft sac, their little tremors not unlike the desperate throes of flies, but warm, beautiful. It won't be long now. Now is the tender time. Soon I'll wear them on my back, and we can leave this place. But not yet. Not yet. Now is the time when a swift strike would kill them, and me with them. I will not leave.
I can't leave. I've hidden as well as I can. A small shadow between the braces under the mantel, where their lights don't penetrate. At least not yet.
Too much light. Too many sounds. They come with their sounds, with their fangs at the ends of their legs, shooting explosions into the walls, toppling everything. They are giants. They grumble at each other, tear up the floors, rip down the lights. Destroy everything that has
Your Fate will Destroy Us Ch 4Merida couldn't keep her mind off Jack, and the guilt that raided her mind. As she went about the day, dressed in her tight pale pink dress her mother forced her in, and listening to her lectures on royalty and their family heritage, Merida thought of Jack. He had opened up to her, and she dismissed him mercilessly, watched as his face twisted in hurt and sadness. But she had to be honest. It was the truth. Wasn't it?Your Fate will Destroy Us Ch 42 years ago in Romance More Like This
Frowning, she scoffed and shook her head. She couldn't think about him right now. She had more pressing matters to attend to such as struggling to breathe in the tight dress. The day had come to an end finally, the dinner had been severed and eaten, and Merida was waiting for her mother to come help her get undressed. She stared at herself in the mirror, glaring at the figure that stared back, her thick, curly red hair pulled into a braid, wearing a pale pink dress that squeezed her so tight she felt her organs in her throat. But not only that, in the reflection of the mi
Volpi.You will find that the story you tellVolpi.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
Survive the Zombies In the wake of nearly every disaster, fatalities occur long after the event has taken its initial toll. Whether it is a volcano, hurricane, flood, plague or zombie attack, the general pandemonium following a crisis often causes more problems for the survivors than the original disaster. The most threatening aspect of surviving the impending apocalypse is hordes of mindless drones, either in the form of zombies, angry mobs, or the Federal Emergency Management Agency.Survive the Zombies5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Paranoia and suspicion of others are the best ways to avoid being swept up in this deadly pandemonium. As long as quality of life is not part of the issue, staying shut away in an overly sterilized air lock with a lifetime supply of canned food will probably keep you breathing the longest. Of course, if retaining humanity is factored into the equation, your options are far less clear. As social creatures, humans have evolved to react as a group, similar to pods of fish and herds of
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,Solace2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
The Fall of EpithilinonIThe Fall of Epithilinon2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let no man speak of wars whence
No answer graced our call,
Let man remember gods thence
Gods, watchful of our fall;
Speak in silenced sighs, men,
Dead men hither sleep,
No flag here flails, amen, amen!
Who can ever beweep
Our brethren in the deep.
Frightened colours breached the sky,
The church bells played a dirge;
The bustling hills and vales so nigh
In crimson rage did merge,
Archers with crescents held high
Keen arrows fell like sin,
The portcullis in sorrow, shy
Interred our fathers in
The last grave of our kin.
Wailed the night in thunder blare;
The mangonels did come,
Lonely trumpets singed the air
When Earth ravished our home;
The eastern tower, wasting wear
For a trebuchet did bow,
Fallen stone and ballista bare
Broke its stony vow,
As the beadle mopped his brow.
Mildly armoured, men at arms
Stormed the brazen fray,
Howled the castle’s cold alarms:
Ladder men up the brae!
Blazed in ire the fields and farms:
The winter’s yield was spent;
never mindI guess it’s kind of funny, if you think about it. You always see in the movies – in the TV shows – people running and screaming and praying and stuff. That’s what Hollywood always thought it would be like. Some sort of ‘death cloud’ or something – or like an asteroid or something like that – that just happened: that just totally hit everybody by surprise.never mind3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
People have known about it for months. It’s not like in the movies. The word ‘inevitability’ comes to mind: and hey, guess what? Nobody cares to run from the inevitable. It’s pretty stupid – isn’t it, if you think about it – how people, in the movies, try to run from inevitable death. Everybody has decided what they were gonna do today weeks ago, maybe even months ago. Say goodbye to family, spend time with girlfriend, et cetera et cetera. As with the Kubler-Ross effect – or whatever it's called – p
Before DaybreakCouldn't sleep – 4 AM may beBefore Daybreak2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Too early for coffee, but
The corner diner's open
At all hours, so I head
That way. Dickens, Green Mansions,
Shakespeare, bleak Russians – shadows
Can watch them for a while…
The night air's warm—a slow block
Of rain-sloshed concrete later
And I've made it. – Get dark roast
Pick a table not too close
To the counter, then sit back.
Watch life eddy around you...
Whoever sat here last must
Have dropped the tract—Jesus Saves.
We're story-weaving creatures.
This tale? It's nine-tenths thunder—
Granite certainty. Can't see
Much past my face. But who knows?
That might just change as sweet beans
Work their magic. Consciousness
Slowly stirs—I look around
At early birds who've lit here…
Thin man (business suit, blue tie),
Seems harried. Near one entrance
A trash-bag clad moustached guy
Growls at home-fries and the wet.
This is the dream we're living—
Lost in hurry, souls flutter
Mo (1,315w) The first time they met, Mo smiled. In her head, the girl knew that smile was one that the world would call “ugly”; however, she was still a child so her heart was bigger. Her heart smiled back.Mo (1,315w)2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a wintry Friday in February. Beth was almost thirteen—possibly the worst almost in a girl’s process of growing up, the almost of never catching a break from her own mirror and wishing her body would just make up its mind already. She poked at her soggy corn flakes and plucked at the itchy new strap of her bra. Wished her breasts were either big enough to actually make some shape, or small enough that she wouldn’t have to bother. Her parents lounged their way into a late morning with black coffee and yesterday’s crossword puzzles. This was a typical family snow day: nothing out of the ordinary was supposed to happen in t
The Halloween TraditionA leaf crunched under the toe of a boot.The Halloween Tradition2 years ago in Humor More Like This
The leaf had been the color of melted caramel on an apple, and the boot was black. The boot glowed in the early evening light, due to the considerable amount of polish the person inside of it had rubbed into its leather. The person inside the boot swept a couple stray curls out of her piercing blue eyes. She wore layers of skirts and tunics, with slits in the right places to allow her to run. In her hand was a long and very realistic looking fake spear, and on her belt was another alarmingly realistic looking fake weapon, a sword this time. The person inside the boot marched up the front stairs of the brick house yards from the caramel apple leaf. The person’s fist swished through the many layers it was wrapped in and smashed against the wooden door of the house. This it did three or four times until a voice rang out of an upstairs window.
“Merida! I’m almost done, can you wait for a moment?”
“Nae tay lang, please,
The Key That Changed The WorldThe Key That Changed The World2 years ago in Historical More Like This
Deeply regret to advise you Titanic sank this morning, the fifteenth, after a collision with an iceberg resulting in serious loss of life. Further particulars later.
At 2:20 AM Atlantic Standard Time on the morning of April 15, 1912, the largest and most luxurious man-made object that had ever been moved, the Royal Mail Steamer (RMS) Titanic, disappeared beneath the calm waters of the North Atlantic about 370 miles or 600 kilometers south-southeast of the coast of Newfoundland, leaving behind her the majority of 2,208 living, breathing human beings— people with families, dreams, hopes, ambitions, and plans— struggling to stay afloat in the frigid ocean water. Among them were the world's richest and most famous and influential individ
What I Lost“I lost a finger,” Dolph proclaimed in a manner of startling, distant normality to his father, who had just ghosted by him into the kitchen to find something. His father paused like a clogged clock and spun suddenly on a hinge to see and confirm, and Dolph held up his hand to reveal his organic matter’s metallic replacement. “It’s just the pinky one.”What I Lost2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
His father sluggishly pulled up a chair and printed sentences and fragments streamed from the printing compartment on his patchwork-junk face which Dolph had labored so fiercely to build and jumpstart over three years ago. Dolph reached for the receipt paper as it started to curl over and still it came in waves of questions and random echoing thoughts from his father’s scattered processor. The processor was a work in progress still, and one which Dolph was hesitant to change, because unlike a brain it sometimes sputtered with the a
Missing PersonsI live in a world of fear.Missing Persons2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I am not the only one who is afraid; no, every person here fears the night, if not for themselves then for someone they love. Mothers fear for their children, husbands for their wives, children for their sisters and brothers. No one fears for their friends; no one has friends anymore. No one dares.
It wasn’t always this way. I remember days before the fear, before the world was so paralyzed with its own terror that it forgot how to live. I remember walking through a park after sunset just for the pleasure of it. I remember being late for an appointment without anyone beginning to plan my Memorial. I remember life before people began to disappear.
It started slowly, coming on so gradually that it’s hard to say when it became normal for people to vanish on their way to the grocery store, or while walking the dog. Suddenly it was completely ordinary to see houses fall derelict, their owners mysteriously vanished somewhere beyond our reach.
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,Life is but a Dream3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
small talk1. dress appropriatelysmall talk2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we adorn ourselves with
"velvet" and "silk" (polyester).
try to catch the eyes of onlookers
as we stand, stranded at our
street corner islands,
pulling up our skirts—
unsure if we are
bringing evil in, or
letting it out.
2. make it natural
forget that it isn’t.
put on a show and let those lies
slip from your lips in bated breath
and your lungs heaving in the chest.
3. be prepared
I don’t leave the house
without my pocket knife,
it comes in handy
when you want to be set free
from this sort of lifestyle.