Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round Two: The Kestalvian Rainforest]
07-30-2011, 11:50 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by veerserif.
There were... colours, a shout, the low kthunk-crunch of metal impacting on metal and the horribly familiar sense of his body flipping inside out, just for a moment, as he crumpled to the jungle floor.
And now there were ants, a thin stream of determined black dots, traveling past. It was oddly mesmeric.
Gabe pushed himself up slowly from the floor. It was dark here; the canopy blocked out the sunlight, leaving dappled patches of light on the various shrubs around him. Massive trees soared above him, scarred and moss-covered. All around him was the cacophany of the forest - chittering birds, clicking insects, shouts and howls and croaks and "JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!" he yelled. The jungle responded by getting louder.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus. Food, food. He thought better afterwards. A cursory search revealed a bit of leftover pancake, as well as a small penknife, a book of soggy matches, one crumpled up tissue and a pencil stub. Gabe squinted up at the treetops in time for a few misty droplets of rain to fall on his face.
Revving up his saw-hand, he tried to clear a path through the dense foliage. The foliage fought back, with thorny plants snagging his clothing and branches catching him in the face. He struggled on as the droplets got bigger and the first actual drops of rain fell like a warning. The rain pelted him with a vengeance, until eventually the whole forest was engulfed by sheets of torrential rain. The trees didn't do anything to shelter Gabe from the rain. If anything, they made it worse, as leaves channeled the rainwater into streams pouring down, down, down. The ground underfoot quickly gave way to mud, clumping onto his shoes and somehow ending up in his hair. Everything was drowned out by the roar of the rain.
Mud-caked, scratched and thoroughly soaked, Gabe nevertheless searched for some kind of cover. Scrabbling his way up a small hill, he put one foot in front of the other, and then the floor collapsed. Gabe landed with a squelch.
He looked up, and wished he hadn't.
He rose, unsteadily, flinging both arms out for balance as he tried to reassure himself that the world was still this way up. The saw-hand sputtered weakly. "Just my -pff- luck," he said, spitting out bits of leaf. He got up, wavered, tripped over a branch, fell, got up again and waved his free hand. "I will never go out without an --" and he promptly fell again. There was a chatter and some movement above him. It sounded mocking, sort of, but right now he felt like everything was conspiring against him. Gabe groaned, peeled off his sodden jacket and tossed it away from him. "Well you try trekking through a fucking rainstorm." He stumbled off, grateful that here, at least, it wasn't quite as damp.
Elimine opened her mouth, intending to apologize. Before she could do so, a man crashed through the foliage and into the clearing. He looked at her, looked at the other woman, then looked at Etiyr. A light seemed to go off behind his eyes.
One thought barreled its way past the others, pushing and elbowing to the front of the crowd, where it proceeded to make rude faces and laugh at the others.
"Excuse me, miss, but I think you have my typewriter."
There were... colours, a shout, the low kthunk-crunch of metal impacting on metal and the horribly familiar sense of his body flipping inside out, just for a moment, as he crumpled to the jungle floor.
And now there were ants, a thin stream of determined black dots, traveling past. It was oddly mesmeric.
Gabe pushed himself up slowly from the floor. It was dark here; the canopy blocked out the sunlight, leaving dappled patches of light on the various shrubs around him. Massive trees soared above him, scarred and moss-covered. All around him was the cacophany of the forest - chittering birds, clicking insects, shouts and howls and croaks and "JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!" he yelled. The jungle responded by getting louder.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus. Food, food. He thought better afterwards. A cursory search revealed a bit of leftover pancake, as well as a small penknife, a book of soggy matches, one crumpled up tissue and a pencil stub. Gabe squinted up at the treetops in time for a few misty droplets of rain to fall on his face.
Revving up his saw-hand, he tried to clear a path through the dense foliage. The foliage fought back, with thorny plants snagging his clothing and branches catching him in the face. He struggled on as the droplets got bigger and the first actual drops of rain fell like a warning. The rain pelted him with a vengeance, until eventually the whole forest was engulfed by sheets of torrential rain. The trees didn't do anything to shelter Gabe from the rain. If anything, they made it worse, as leaves channeled the rainwater into streams pouring down, down, down. The ground underfoot quickly gave way to mud, clumping onto his shoes and somehow ending up in his hair. Everything was drowned out by the roar of the rain.
Mud-caked, scratched and thoroughly soaked, Gabe nevertheless searched for some kind of cover. Scrabbling his way up a small hill, he put one foot in front of the other, and then the floor collapsed. Gabe landed with a squelch.
He looked up, and wished he hadn't.
He rose, unsteadily, flinging both arms out for balance as he tried to reassure himself that the world was still this way up. The saw-hand sputtered weakly. "Just my -pff- luck," he said, spitting out bits of leaf. He got up, wavered, tripped over a branch, fell, got up again and waved his free hand. "I will never go out without an --" and he promptly fell again. There was a chatter and some movement above him. It sounded mocking, sort of, but right now he felt like everything was conspiring against him. Gabe groaned, peeled off his sodden jacket and tossed it away from him. "Well you try trekking through a fucking rainstorm." He stumbled off, grateful that here, at least, it wasn't quite as damp.
Elimine opened her mouth, intending to apologize. Before she could do so, a man crashed through the foliage and into the clearing. He looked at her, looked at the other woman, then looked at Etiyr. A light seemed to go off behind his eyes.
One thought barreled its way past the others, pushing and elbowing to the front of the crowd, where it proceeded to make rude faces and laugh at the others.
"Excuse me, miss, but I think you have my typewriter."