Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round Two: The Kestalvian Rainforest]
08-01-2011, 12:30 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
Etiyr stopped. What felt like a thick silence settled over the woods. If the typewriter had eyes, they would be staring in disbelief.
There was a whirr, and the paper ejected, fluttering into the dense foliage. The silence was broken as clacking began, this time rhythmic, organic.
“Um. Hey, Gabe.”
He raised his arm and waved his hand a bit as he answered; “Hey.”
Bethany and Elimine scrambled up off the ground, brushing themselves off, glancing from Gabe to Etiyr to Gabe again.
“Um, yours?” the sidekick said, raising an eyebrow. “You own Etiyr?”
She was met with a nervous smile from the human member of the pair, in that tired way parents smile at their children when they say something stupid in front of company.
“No no nonono,” Gabe replied, erratically moving his arms as he spoke. “He’s just a really good friend of mine. We’re friends. Buddies, you could say. Isn’t that right, Etiyr?”
Needless to say, at this point in time, Etiyr was practically in complete ecstasy. Suddenly, everything was going his way, and deep inside, he was living it up. You could almost say he was getting off on it, if it weren’t for the fact he was a typewriter.
“FUCK YES WE ARE,” Etiyr quickly typed. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“WE’RE LIKE BROTHERS, AM I RIGHT, GABE!?”</span>
“Hell yeah!” Gabe said, making a fist and thrusting it towards Etiyr, before remembering his friend didn’t have arms, and embarrassedly putting the bro-fist down.
“Um,” Bethany interjected, raising her hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, um, is that typewriter talking to you? The name’s Bethany, by the way.”
Everyone directed their attention towards the Xenobiologist for the first time. She wasn’t particularly pretty, nor was she particularly unattractive, either. She was just sort of there, average, somehow blending in with the foliage and just the world in general.
Etiyr sized her up. He couldn’t really tell if she was particularly manipulateable. She was a bit of a toss-up, you could say. An unexpected addition. Either way, the typewriter decided that he might as well give it a shot.
“Why, yes. Yes I am,” Etiyr wrote. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“And no, I’m not an AI or some clever trick. I’m alive, technically, I guess. That isn’t really a thing I’ve been concerned with.”</span>
She stared at the words for a long while, before turning to the group, giving a small, singular clap, and finally speaking.
“Well, um, would all of you like to head back to camp with me? It’s almost time for dinner, and I would just love to speak to your little friend here.”
Um. Well, then, Etiyr thought to himself. That was a little easier than I thought. Fuck yeah. But first…
“I’d like to speak to my dear friend here for a moment, for a bit. In private. Gabe, could you come over here and pick your ol’ typewriter up? We have some catching up to do.”
Etiyr stopped. What felt like a thick silence settled over the woods. If the typewriter had eyes, they would be staring in disbelief.
There was a whirr, and the paper ejected, fluttering into the dense foliage. The silence was broken as clacking began, this time rhythmic, organic.
“Um. Hey, Gabe.”
He raised his arm and waved his hand a bit as he answered; “Hey.”
Bethany and Elimine scrambled up off the ground, brushing themselves off, glancing from Gabe to Etiyr to Gabe again.
“Um, yours?” the sidekick said, raising an eyebrow. “You own Etiyr?”
She was met with a nervous smile from the human member of the pair, in that tired way parents smile at their children when they say something stupid in front of company.
“No no nonono,” Gabe replied, erratically moving his arms as he spoke. “He’s just a really good friend of mine. We’re friends. Buddies, you could say. Isn’t that right, Etiyr?”
Needless to say, at this point in time, Etiyr was practically in complete ecstasy. Suddenly, everything was going his way, and deep inside, he was living it up. You could almost say he was getting off on it, if it weren’t for the fact he was a typewriter.
“FUCK YES WE ARE,” Etiyr quickly typed. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“WE’RE LIKE BROTHERS, AM I RIGHT, GABE!?”</span>
“Hell yeah!” Gabe said, making a fist and thrusting it towards Etiyr, before remembering his friend didn’t have arms, and embarrassedly putting the bro-fist down.
“Um,” Bethany interjected, raising her hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, um, is that typewriter talking to you? The name’s Bethany, by the way.”
Everyone directed their attention towards the Xenobiologist for the first time. She wasn’t particularly pretty, nor was she particularly unattractive, either. She was just sort of there, average, somehow blending in with the foliage and just the world in general.
Etiyr sized her up. He couldn’t really tell if she was particularly manipulateable. She was a bit of a toss-up, you could say. An unexpected addition. Either way, the typewriter decided that he might as well give it a shot.
“Why, yes. Yes I am,” Etiyr wrote. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“And no, I’m not an AI or some clever trick. I’m alive, technically, I guess. That isn’t really a thing I’ve been concerned with.”</span>
She stared at the words for a long while, before turning to the group, giving a small, singular clap, and finally speaking.
“Well, um, would all of you like to head back to camp with me? It’s almost time for dinner, and I would just love to speak to your little friend here.”
Um. Well, then, Etiyr thought to himself. That was a little easier than I thought. Fuck yeah. But first…
“I’d like to speak to my dear friend here for a moment, for a bit. In private. Gabe, could you come over here and pick your ol’ typewriter up? We have some catching up to do.”