Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round One: The "Denny's"]
04-24-2011, 11:05 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
The Guard’s screams of pain were particularly distracting. Yeah, yeah, his hands were irreparably mangled. It wasn’t Etiyr’s problem.
Etiyr’s problem, right now, was determining who, or what, would be the best thing to manipulate. Gaurinn wasn’t particularly chummy toward the typewriter, and it knew that as soon as he had the opportunity, he would dump it off and be gone in a flash. Etiyr supposed that the guards weren’t really an option, either, especially since one had ran for his life, and the other was annoying, not to mention screaming and writhing in agony.
But that conglomeration of floating metal, AMP. He was a prime target. Strong, strange, and from the way he asked for an alliance, naive. Perfect.
Well, almost perfect. Etiyr could already feel the incredibly strong magnetic currents running through him, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. Manipulating AMP, to say the least, wouldn’t be the most comfortable ride. And by “ride,” it really did mean a ride. Those fields would throw the typewriter around like a rag doll.
But, for right now, it was its best bet, so Etiyr decided to take it.
“You can drop me off here,” Etiyr wrote, the words directed at Gaurinn.<span style="font-family: Courier New">“I will no longer require your assistance at the present.”
It then immediately directed its focus towards AMP, the centipede already disregarded in its mind. AMP seemed to be starting at the piece of metal that had destroyed the annoying guard’s hands, blood dripping from the piece of scrap. If body language could be attributed to such a thing, he appeared to be completely fascinated and surprised, his cameras directed at the piece of metal, scanning every inch, taking particular care when it focused on the red bodily fluid. To get his attention, Etiyr typed another line of “C’s,” the ring of the bell drawing AMP’s attention.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that guard, he was really mean to you. AMP is your name, right?”</span>
AMP read over the note with his cameras, processing the information. After a short while, he replied over the bleeding guard’s sobs, the same tinny voice coming through the speakers.
“Oh, hi! Yeah, I’m AMP. And about the guard, I guess it’s ok,” He replied, one of his cameras taking a glace at the wounded guard.
“Is… is he ok?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Etiyr lied. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“He’s perfectly fine. That’s just something humans do sometimes.”</span>
“Oh, ok…”
"Anyway, I heard you wanted to be friends. I am looking to accept that offer.”
“Oh, Really!?” AMP said excitedly. “Oh, that would be great!”
At this point, a burst of exited magnetic energy was released, flinging Etiyr up into the air and into AMP’s body, the typewriter now orbiting the conglomeration of metal. None of this was particularly comfortable or enjoyable for Etiyr.
This… this was going to be a challenge.
Etiyr hated challenges.
The Guard’s screams of pain were particularly distracting. Yeah, yeah, his hands were irreparably mangled. It wasn’t Etiyr’s problem.
Etiyr’s problem, right now, was determining who, or what, would be the best thing to manipulate. Gaurinn wasn’t particularly chummy toward the typewriter, and it knew that as soon as he had the opportunity, he would dump it off and be gone in a flash. Etiyr supposed that the guards weren’t really an option, either, especially since one had ran for his life, and the other was annoying, not to mention screaming and writhing in agony.
But that conglomeration of floating metal, AMP. He was a prime target. Strong, strange, and from the way he asked for an alliance, naive. Perfect.
Well, almost perfect. Etiyr could already feel the incredibly strong magnetic currents running through him, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. Manipulating AMP, to say the least, wouldn’t be the most comfortable ride. And by “ride,” it really did mean a ride. Those fields would throw the typewriter around like a rag doll.
But, for right now, it was its best bet, so Etiyr decided to take it.
“You can drop me off here,” Etiyr wrote, the words directed at Gaurinn.<span style="font-family: Courier New">“I will no longer require your assistance at the present.”
It then immediately directed its focus towards AMP, the centipede already disregarded in its mind. AMP seemed to be starting at the piece of metal that had destroyed the annoying guard’s hands, blood dripping from the piece of scrap. If body language could be attributed to such a thing, he appeared to be completely fascinated and surprised, his cameras directed at the piece of metal, scanning every inch, taking particular care when it focused on the red bodily fluid. To get his attention, Etiyr typed another line of “C’s,” the ring of the bell drawing AMP’s attention.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that guard, he was really mean to you. AMP is your name, right?”</span>
AMP read over the note with his cameras, processing the information. After a short while, he replied over the bleeding guard’s sobs, the same tinny voice coming through the speakers.
“Oh, hi! Yeah, I’m AMP. And about the guard, I guess it’s ok,” He replied, one of his cameras taking a glace at the wounded guard.
“Is… is he ok?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Etiyr lied. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“He’s perfectly fine. That’s just something humans do sometimes.”</span>
“Oh, ok…”
"Anyway, I heard you wanted to be friends. I am looking to accept that offer.”
“Oh, Really!?” AMP said excitedly. “Oh, that would be great!”
At this point, a burst of exited magnetic energy was released, flinging Etiyr up into the air and into AMP’s body, the typewriter now orbiting the conglomeration of metal. None of this was particularly comfortable or enjoyable for Etiyr.
This… this was going to be a challenge.
Etiyr hated challenges.