- 3,321
- 1,833
~ The Tale ~
(Skip to the bottom if you wish to see the actual match)
A massive, sprawling desert. Hot, filled with conflict and chaos, a place that was always filled with people, yet eternally dwindling as gangs, killers and all sorts of perverts and criminals struggled and fought to live another day or to acquire the most idiotic of trophies. Blasted ruins scorched in the everpresent sun as dried blood and rust mingled with the sands.
No one knows how it had appeared.
Rumours that a secret project, funded by the government was what caused it. The region was called Olathe, and it was now quarantined; not that it was necessary, seldom anyone ever managed to reach its borders, as whatever made it become what it was also made geography finnicky; it was very hard to orient yourself within. The sky wasn't the same, and it was common to make large circles back to where you started out, despite doing your best to stay on a straight line.
A blue-and-red figure streaked across the orange skies of Olathe. A man clad in the colors of the flag, a patriotic individual for all to see; to him, he was godlike. Nothing below him could harm him and he knew all that happened. His ears captured even the individual grains of sand rolling in the dunes if he directed his attention to it, and even the far-off, mysterious singing of a trumpet echoed in his ears. He thought about flying to it, but for the hell of it - the song was nice enough and it made for a good, heroic atmosphere to his journey. It made it all the more amusing when he fried scaredy men that fired all sorts of projectiles at him as he flew through the skies. At times, even the great Homelander liked to indulge in theatrics. A vision, however, caught his attention.
His descent was quick but elegant, and for a few, brief moments he hovered gently above the ground before touching the ground before a sun-blasted hut. The ground was littered with ruined corpses, blood smeared across the ground, the signs of a heavy struggle. Some of them had ruined, happy masks, and carried strange blue pills on their hands. But that wasn't the object of his interest. It was the torn pamphlet stuck to the wall, stained with drying blood. Curious, the man ripped it from the wall and examined it. The picture of a woman, rewards being offered for information about her. Homelander couldn't hide a bemused smile at that.
One particularity of this zone was the lack of women. Apparently, whatever had caused Olathe to form, also killed all the women on it. People raved like wolves about any rumours of women around.
Maybe he'd get into the fun. Searching for the hell of it, and then crushing their hopes in front of them.
The sound of approaching footsteps made Homelander instantly turn his head to face the newcomer. A small, balding man, with long and thick black hair and beard. A scar covered his face, and his expression was of a perpetual frown. Powerful and rigid muscles stuck out of his smelly, raggedy poncho. His blood pressure denounced a very abnormal state; Homelander could feel how irregular his body was acting. The only external hint of the imbalance were occasional, small spasms and shivers, that could be for so many other reasons if one didn't look closely at him.
Interesting.
Their man took notice of Homelander, and approached him. Hmelander stood still, pamphlet still in hands.
"Hey." The man called out, in a gruff, rough voice. His tone was measured, akin to a shy person forcing themselves to speak, but also carrying just a hint of savagery. "Did you see her?"
"Her? The woman of this piece of paper?" Homelander asked amusedly. At that, the man's blood pressure become significantly agitated. Just how much did a woman move the hearts of men in this place? It was truly a sorry thing.
"Yes. I saw her coming through this way. I need to... Rescue her. Did you see her?"
Hmmm...
"I might've. I heard some bugs scattering about when I was flying this way. Maybe I should've paid more attention, after all!" Homelander barked with laughter. Already the man brushed past him and went about, accelerating his step. Homelander smilled acridly at that. "I'll come with you. I want to see the little devil myself!"
The balding man stopped. Brad Armstrong, tightened his fists into a iron grip, and he breathed deeply, red flashes streaking his vision.
KILL PROTECT
Buddy?
"No. You won't." Brad forced himself to say, as calmly as he could, despite his veins pulsating with quickened blood. That didn't escape Homelander's notice, whose smile flashed cruelly.
"Quite the egotistical fellow, aren't you? You want her all for yourself?"
"She is my daughter. Stop, or I will stop you myself."
THAT's why he is so invested in this. Homelander arched a brow in surprise, before his devilish smile once again surfaced.
"I'd like to see you try. After I'm through with you, I'll crush her, and all your hopes, myself!" Homelander barked a cruel giggle, his eyes flashing red as he hovered above ground. Brad lowered his posture at that, and once more adopted the Armstrong Style stance, cries of people and beasts echoing in his mind...
kill kill kill
SKIN
BUDDYBUDDYBUDDYBUDDYBUDDY
PROTECT
... lisa
~ The Match ~
Brad Armstrong - LISA.
V.S.
Homelander (TV Series) - The Boys.
RULES:
1. Brad's Supersonic+ end is considered.
2. Brad is on his Failure key.
3. No previous knowledge, nor prep time.
(Skip to the bottom if you wish to see the actual match)
A massive, sprawling desert. Hot, filled with conflict and chaos, a place that was always filled with people, yet eternally dwindling as gangs, killers and all sorts of perverts and criminals struggled and fought to live another day or to acquire the most idiotic of trophies. Blasted ruins scorched in the everpresent sun as dried blood and rust mingled with the sands.
No one knows how it had appeared.
Rumours that a secret project, funded by the government was what caused it. The region was called Olathe, and it was now quarantined; not that it was necessary, seldom anyone ever managed to reach its borders, as whatever made it become what it was also made geography finnicky; it was very hard to orient yourself within. The sky wasn't the same, and it was common to make large circles back to where you started out, despite doing your best to stay on a straight line.
A blue-and-red figure streaked across the orange skies of Olathe. A man clad in the colors of the flag, a patriotic individual for all to see; to him, he was godlike. Nothing below him could harm him and he knew all that happened. His ears captured even the individual grains of sand rolling in the dunes if he directed his attention to it, and even the far-off, mysterious singing of a trumpet echoed in his ears. He thought about flying to it, but for the hell of it - the song was nice enough and it made for a good, heroic atmosphere to his journey. It made it all the more amusing when he fried scaredy men that fired all sorts of projectiles at him as he flew through the skies. At times, even the great Homelander liked to indulge in theatrics. A vision, however, caught his attention.
His descent was quick but elegant, and for a few, brief moments he hovered gently above the ground before touching the ground before a sun-blasted hut. The ground was littered with ruined corpses, blood smeared across the ground, the signs of a heavy struggle. Some of them had ruined, happy masks, and carried strange blue pills on their hands. But that wasn't the object of his interest. It was the torn pamphlet stuck to the wall, stained with drying blood. Curious, the man ripped it from the wall and examined it. The picture of a woman, rewards being offered for information about her. Homelander couldn't hide a bemused smile at that.
One particularity of this zone was the lack of women. Apparently, whatever had caused Olathe to form, also killed all the women on it. People raved like wolves about any rumours of women around.
Maybe he'd get into the fun. Searching for the hell of it, and then crushing their hopes in front of them.
The sound of approaching footsteps made Homelander instantly turn his head to face the newcomer. A small, balding man, with long and thick black hair and beard. A scar covered his face, and his expression was of a perpetual frown. Powerful and rigid muscles stuck out of his smelly, raggedy poncho. His blood pressure denounced a very abnormal state; Homelander could feel how irregular his body was acting. The only external hint of the imbalance were occasional, small spasms and shivers, that could be for so many other reasons if one didn't look closely at him.
Interesting.
Their man took notice of Homelander, and approached him. Hmelander stood still, pamphlet still in hands.
"Hey." The man called out, in a gruff, rough voice. His tone was measured, akin to a shy person forcing themselves to speak, but also carrying just a hint of savagery. "Did you see her?"
"Her? The woman of this piece of paper?" Homelander asked amusedly. At that, the man's blood pressure become significantly agitated. Just how much did a woman move the hearts of men in this place? It was truly a sorry thing.
"Yes. I saw her coming through this way. I need to... Rescue her. Did you see her?"
Hmmm...
"I might've. I heard some bugs scattering about when I was flying this way. Maybe I should've paid more attention, after all!" Homelander barked with laughter. Already the man brushed past him and went about, accelerating his step. Homelander smilled acridly at that. "I'll come with you. I want to see the little devil myself!"
The balding man stopped. Brad Armstrong, tightened his fists into a iron grip, and he breathed deeply, red flashes streaking his vision.
KILL PROTECT
Buddy?
"No. You won't." Brad forced himself to say, as calmly as he could, despite his veins pulsating with quickened blood. That didn't escape Homelander's notice, whose smile flashed cruelly.
"Quite the egotistical fellow, aren't you? You want her all for yourself?"
"She is my daughter. Stop, or I will stop you myself."
THAT's why he is so invested in this. Homelander arched a brow in surprise, before his devilish smile once again surfaced.
"I'd like to see you try. After I'm through with you, I'll crush her, and all your hopes, myself!" Homelander barked a cruel giggle, his eyes flashing red as he hovered above ground. Brad lowered his posture at that, and once more adopted the Armstrong Style stance, cries of people and beasts echoing in his mind...
kill kill kill
SKIN
BUDDYBUDDYBUDDYBUDDYBUDDY
PROTECT
... lisa
~ The Match ~
Brad Armstrong - LISA.
V.S.
Homelander (TV Series) - The Boys.
RULES:
1. Brad's Supersonic+ end is considered.
2. Brad is on his Failure key.
3. No previous knowledge, nor prep time.
