The grandfather walked steady and slow. The rhythmic tapping of his feet made his daughter wary. The observation, the talks of spite had grown boorish and patients has officially left the chat in disarray. All concluding in a minute.
The mother disappeared in a flash of teleportation, appearing behind him as her leggings glowed the etchings of purple orbs. Her left leg moving in tandem to bash her granddad’s brain to ever loving heaven.
Her grandfather responded in kind as he bashed his head to her legs.
Susan, mother of Virginity Wizard Keith Pov
The purple glow on my legging had faded with the recoil. A contract it has fulfilled in trust and payment will be paid in due time.
Continuing my battle tempo, my helmet glowed grey signifying age and wisdom as everything I perceived of the world slowed to a crawl. Analysis is required for a sure win using my limited abilities. The world turned a snails pace for me, as I moment by moment see my hair turn white, my fingers scrunch up with wrinkles and my armor readjusting to my figure.
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If I had my druthers, I would have used this later in the battle but a broken left leg has made this battle uncertain. As they say, beggars can’t be choosers.
Sub-concept of rage, stupidity. One of the many facades and foundation of rage. Only an idiot would rage in cold and serene death, only they knew the bliss of being idiots and coming out alive.
An endearing concept in of itself, highlighting the curse of intelligence and its unending expectations.
Of course, his head won the fight between kick and head bud. That numb skull has a stubborn head. Literally and figuratively.
This was the third head of the Hartwell family, the third generational holder of the concept of rage. Three generations of steroid raging, alcoholic, drug addicted, all encompassing stupidity and everything traumatic.
All that tends towards this oozing black pile of manure, my father.
I thought his attempts of traumatizing would have ended with my hubby but now he wants my son and no mercy can be given.
3 more abilities to punish him accordingly.
3rd pov
The mother kicked with her right leg, using her increased perception. A spray of blood erupted as the head of the grandfather recoiled.