The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 6: Tidal Cove]

Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.

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Oh. Nine players.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

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So, uh, sorry about the inactivity. Last two weeks of school and I'm smack-dab in the middle of finals, so... yeah. Apologies for making you have to write out my part of the story for me. [img]images/smilies/pc_insolent.gif[/img]

Anyways, I'll try to get a post up after school (which I must leave for in 10 minutes). I guess that Lucas is running away from Ourobourus around the hallways, and Thane's still in the gym?

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

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Wait, never mind.

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

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At my behest, Schazer took on a second character. (The name Keerutaja was her idea- it's Estonian for "trickster.") I provided a profile, which she lived up to grandly, making the ninth character a believable newbie. When the opportunity arose to gather the largest alliance in one place, we took it, and together, we prepared as brutal and unpleasant a scene as we could.

This is not the end of the round- gameplay will continue as normal- 8 players, 7 rounds. After all, Arnold's not dead.

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

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As soon as the Controller's visage disappeared from the screen, Algernon felt control return to his body. But, still shocked by the recent events, he let himself collapse, his eyes constantly following the blood trail up to the place in the wall he had disappeared in and back again. Jesus. He had been standing next to him...

Algernon felt like a child again amongst the others. Although they seemed equally as shocked, he had been the only one to fall over. And he couldn't help but feel as though he was the only one who couldn't swallow, who almost couldn't breathe. He had never seen anything like that. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stop seeing it. The smell of blood was making him sick. He had to get out of here. Slowly, Algernon found his footing, hoping that, on top of everything that had happened to him today, he wouldn't vomit.

The Countess took it upon herself to break the silence. "Is that it? Do we fight now?" Nobody answered for a while. Algernon couldn't imagine suddenly turning on these people. But after this, he couldn't stay in a group.

"I'm...going to leave," he said, attempting to walk to the door without wobbling. "See you--" Algernon paused, realizing how disquieting that phrase was in this situation. And then he simply left.

The hallway, thankfully free of blood, was a very welcome sight. He even enjoyed the sounds of the storm. Away from the classroom, Algernon tried to clear his head. He tried to think of the contestants, the Countess and her eeriness, the previously jovial werewolf, Holly and her habit of vandalizing books, but everything just circled back to Arnold and his noiseless scream, his twisted and mangled body being dragged into nowhere.

No, no. This has to stop. Think about your situation here. The next time you meet them again, you will have to fight or else possibly die in a sadistically painful manner. If you keep wandering around dwelling on this, you will be killed.

Algernon thought no further and simply entered the next room he saw. A ceramics room. There were many amateur projects in storage. The students had been making bowls recently. Algernon took out the paper towels in his bag and noted where more of them were in the room. He mentally apologized to the many students he seemed to be constantly stealing from.

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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I suspected the puppetry, but misjudged the puppeteer.

Well played, Schazer. Very well played.

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

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At my behest, Schazer took on a second character. (The name Keerutaja was her idea- it's Estonian for "trickster.") I provided a profile, which she lived up to grandly, making the ninth character a believable newbie. When the opportunity arose to gather the largest alliance in one place, we took it, and together, we prepared as brutal and unpleasant scene as we could.

This is not the end of the round- gameplay will continue as normal- 8 players, 7 rounds. After all, Arnold's not dead.

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You magnificent bastard. [img]images/smilies/weasel.gif[/img]

Holly stared at the trail of blood leading out of the classroom, having absolutely no idea what to say. She was simultaneously awed, squeamish and a bit jealous, but the main thing she felt was fear. Oh crap he's dead. Oh crap oh crap oh crap. She nearly ran. But then a last thought poked out at the back of her head.

No! No fear. He's dead now. Fine, I was going to kill him anyway. I must not panic. I just need a new stooge. She quickly scanned the room. Algernon had already fled in terror, she still didn't trust The Countess, and she hadn't even properly introduced herself to Acacia. That basically meant the werewolf was her only option. She needed to get away, though. Just the two of them. But first she needed to get rid of all this... emotion.

She promptly ran up to the Countess, stopping her hand just short of grabbing her head. "Sorry, madame, but I feel as if I need this more than you." She promptly extracted the mechanical woman's courage and transformed it into a blast of cold, which she then promptly divvied up between herself and Pluck. She grabbed onto Pluck's hand and started dragging him out the door, yelling at him to hurry up.

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Buh, not sure if this works well but it's the best way to express fearlessness that I could think of. I suppose I could have made something "tranquil" but I don't know.

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Haha, gotta admit, it was pretty fun. Apologies for my semi-awake ramblings; if they're too screwed up or just plain stupid I'll see what I can do in the morning afternoon.

The Countess' clockwork features betrayed neither fear nor delighted anticipation as the familiar grip of the Controller exerted itself. Afterward, she admired the gorey streak which was all that remained of the knight, content to dream of one day possessing an ounce of the Controller's talent for sadistic brutality. Well, that's what she was here for, wasn't she? Sensing nobody willing to break the bloodstained silence, the automaton queried, "Is that it? Do we fight now?" When the group's only reply was in the form of Algernon fleeing the room with a muted mumble, the Countess started after him until Holly rushed forward. Too startled to think of a reaction more appropriate than lashing out, the amalgam could only snap her jaws in affront as the elf tore the calm her right out of her, and dragged Pluck out before The Countess could comment on the development.

Acacia and The Countess were all alone in the classroom, which stunk of fear and burnt blood. With her usual calm front pilfered by that thieving scum elf, the clockwork creature was in no mood to pander to anyone, and Acacia's deafness was no exception. There was a persistent hum in her chest, of the Controller repeatedly telling her to compose herself, which in her present, unrefined, destructive mood translated to a hearty wish to rip the transceiver out and strangle Acacia with the cable. This deep internal conflict must've translated, as the human frowned a little. Acacia had probably been the least-affected of the humans by the Controller's display, but it had certainly left her on edge. For all she knew, this machine before her was waiting to strike.

"Is... something the matter?" The Countess glared at the woman, her melodious tones marred with a lot more graunching and ticking.

"That insufferable elf," snarled The Countess, throwing her hands up in incoherent fury, flexing into frustrated talons as she realised Acacia could not read her cold, non-existent lips. The Countess' perspective was returning to a normalcy less involved in quantifying by what would scream the loudest upon disembowelment, which let her march to the blackboard and drag an irritable finger down it. The fact it had no effect on anybody didn't help The Countess' temper much, but she savoured it anyway as she carved out a message, gauging the silent Acacia for comprehension at the end of each line before proceeding.

THE ELF
MANIPULATES
PEDDLES RAGE
STEALS MY CALM
DO NOT TRUST HER

The Countess turned, to gaze at Acacia with a lot more teeth than she'd been revealing earlier. Beside her, Mr. M385 lurched back to life with several disconsolate hiccoughs and a violent groan. Shooting the robot a glance, The Countess shuffled out of the classroom, to go searching for Algernon.

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Thane was finally wrapping his mind around what was going on here. He had been picked to fight in this battle because he was powerful and it was becoming apparent that the rest of them had probably been picked for the same reason. He would need an ally. There was no way he was going to bring down the Ouroborous on his own, at least not without careful planning. Ideally he needed an ally whom offered something he could not do, but one who he felt he would be able to easily kill when it came down to it. His mind raced across the various other contestants, coming to rest on one who he thought could be helpful; Acacia Skammer. She had a 'boomer', which was apparently some kind of sonic weapon. It shouldn't be too hard to ally with her. Thane was the only telepath in this competition. Someone with whom she could easily communicate... He figured that it wouldn't be too hard a sell to befriend her.
Thane started mentally probing the school. He hadn't known these people long enough to recognise the differences in their minds, only having recognised Lucas' so easily because of it's obvious brokenness. However he did notice that most of the competitors seemed to be congregating in a room on the second floor. It was a reasonable bet that Acacia would be there. Thane turned and left the gym, from the door he had originally entered, and backtracked to the stairs, which he climbed to the second floor. He made his way to the classroom, from which his competitors had began to dissipate, arriving just as The Countess was leaving.

Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.

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Acacia waited until the Countess left the classroom before even daring to move. Jolted into motion by the vacant state of the room, she skittered over to the door and stuck her head out into the hallway. Adrenaline was making its way through her. With explosions and fire, she was waking up.

Or at least Bad Acacia was.

A man had been presumably murdered right in front of her. Bad Acacia could never resist a call like that. She needed to get away, get out, before-

The elf, the elf. No one would care if the elf died. Manipulator, kidnapper, a bitch who veins flowed with purest poison. She could 'rescue' Pluck, incapacitate the emotion-twister and drag her off before anyone could stop her. It wouldn't be hard, no, not at a-

Nonononono. Bad Acacia was a nightmare, brought on by the miasmas of the Last Plague. She didn't exist. Acacia gripped the doorframe, but slid downwards nonetheless. Her heartbeat shuddered through her thin body, about to blow any second and take the world with it. But it was no problem. She just needed to focus. Simple.

Acacia crawled around, heaving her shaking frame far enough to be able stare at a window. There the rain hit it again and again, its mesmerising pattern calm enough to suck her attention in. The hypnotic sight held her steady for perhaps another few precious seconds, but it was inevitable that her mind would wander again. And to what a trigger!

The grisly trail of Sir Arnold glittered mockingly in the light when her traitorous head unavoidably turned to see it. Her heart lurched. Nonononono. Her eyes burned with tears: with desperation and a kind of hopeless fear that would fill one who turned to see a tidal wave upon them. Please, no, it's just a nightmare... She stared, the seconds creaking past, her eyes watering with dryness as well as fear now, until-
Acacia blinked.

The rain still painted the windows in an ever-shifting pattern born of water and gravity, and the walls in the strange light it lent. The darkness still permeated the room, still and calm. Everything was the same.

Skammer pulled herself up, her ascent unhurried. The robot teacher flickered into life, but she merely continued with what she was doing.

"INITIATING REBOOT."

Her head flicked towards to the robot. Its words could not have possibly been the reason, but she took three careful strides towards the robot nonetheless and paused less than a foot from him.

"VOCALLY INPUT ROOT COM -"

[color=#800080]The gun kicked like a bitch, but it's the sound of the shot that would be heard by everyone. Acacia smiled at the remains of the robot teacher in the following silence, but as with all that is golden it was inevitably lost.

Because the perpetrator, one Ms. Acacia Skammer, was laughing. The mechanical clamour jarring and screeched in ways it had clearly never been designed for, vaguely reminiscent of a pig with a chainsaw stuck in its innards. But it was oddly quiet. It could have been happening several rooms away, but if you had been unfortunate to be that close to the spectacle you would have known it be nowhere near as far away as your hears optimistically informed you. Eventually it came to its end as it had begun, the noise jerking and shrieking to the very last moment it dropped out of human hearing.

Suddenly, Acacia straightened herself and appeared as formal as if the last few minutes had really been a miasmatic nightmare. She swivelled towards the door and leapt through it gracefully, skidding on the worn school floor as she refused to pause to turn and begin her sprint through the school.

Sadly, she was interrupted by the appearance of a strangely disfigured individual.

Skammer paused in the very position she had landed in from her jump, awkward as it was, and cocked her head as she looked up and down the being.

"Thane, I believe?"

She didn't wait for his reply. She just smiled in a way that Good Acacia could never have managed.

"Wonderful. You know something? Back on my world we had these little creepers called plags. Nasty things. They were human once. That is, before the Last Plague got hold of them and twisted them until even their closest friends ran from them. They ended up a little bit like you, I guess."

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Thane had stood in the doorway of the classroom and watched Acacia as she blasted the hanging robot. He had been surprised, he had been anticipating someone more good and wholesome. Someone who he would have to fool into becoming his friend. As she barked out her unnerving laugh he mentally wiped the slate clean. To someone like this honesty was probably his friend... Well to a point anyway. She noticed him, and began chattering aimlessly about a creature from her world, Thane didn't really take the information in. He was not interested in her world. It was irrevelant. Then she pulled a gun on him and readied her sonic weapon. He acted quickly to block one of the bullets with his corrupted soulblade, it pinged off the blade and buried itself in the wall. The other he wasn't quite as lucky with, it thudded into his right shoulder. His thick plate armor slowed the bullet but did not stop it. And it was the shoulder of his blade arm as well. How unfortunate. He would have to get that seen to, but that was not a matter for now.

'wait' he thought to Acacia. The word arrived in her head, as though it was a voice. She paused for a moment, surprised, but quickly masked this surprise with a sneer of superiority.

"So the Plag can speak?" she said derisively. "What is it that it wishes to say?" she paused. "And make it quick Plag."

'Sure, you probably could kill me right here' thought Thane. 'I am not adequately prepared to fight off this kind of assault. But I can be a valuable asset in this battle.'

"I'm getting bored now." Acacia interrupted impatiently. She idly spun her gun on her hand, just waiting for an excuse to end this conversation and the life of the Plag who stood across from her.

Time for a demonstration. Thane focused on the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He mentally amplified that pain a thousandfold... and then sent that intense sensation to Acacia.

Acacia screamed with pain, her shoulder suddenly on fire, she clamped her other hand against it in the hope that this would somehow help. For that moment while Thane was inflicting this pain upon her, her entire existence revolved around the agony she felt in her shoulder.

Thane walked over to Acacia and took her gun straight out of her hand. He recognised the technology, though it had not existed the world he inhabited. He thumbed back the safety, pushed the barrell up against Acacia's forehead and removed the pain he had inflicted.

Acacia's shoulder pain was vanished in an instant, she suddenly became aware of the situation in which she found herself. Her own gun to her head. This was not going as it should be. "This is doing little to endear you to me, Plag." she hissed.

Thane replaced the safety and handed Acacia back the gun. 'That was not about your death, just demonstrating that I can be useful. You are going to want to survive this competition, like me. We can help each other out. There are some competitors out there that would be trouble to either of us alone but which could easily be taken down by us working as a team. It is our best move for now, what do you say?'

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Apologies if the characterisation is off, just let me know and I will change it.

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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Unserved. I don't know what to write right now.

Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.

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Close enough. It's fine.

[color=#800080]Acacia took a step back from the creature, turning her precious gun over in her hands. This was not what she wanted. But it could be a way to get that, instead.

She shuddered as her voice box recalibrated, and began to speak in the calm (if cold) tones of Good Acacia.

"So. We join forces, take the others out and unless something happens to jeopardise the alliance, we fight each other to the death in the final round? Cute. Real cute. But why the hell not?"

She took a leisurely step to the side, and began to pace in an arc around the abomination.

"No, screw that. I'll tell you why. Because I'm pumped now. I've got enough energy to tear this entire school down, but there's only one thing I want to do with it."

She snapped around to face Thane again. Her narrowed eyes met his stare.

"Get one of the contestants to..." she wheeled on the spot, a pointing finger outstretched. She paused when her gaze fell upon a room with a door labelled as the 'Peace Room'. A crooked smile took hold upon her face.

"That room. In ten minutes. Not the kid with the worm, and not the Orouborites either. Do that for me, and I'll be happy to join forces,"

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

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Holly shot down the hallway, Pluck following just behind her. "Did you see anywhere we could hide, or get materials, or something?" The werewolf muttered something in response. Well, wonderful. I guess we'll just have to pick something. Pluck suddenly noticed something and tugged at Holly's sleeve. "Hey, here's something!" The two of them headed into a small, unassuming door leading into a long hall, lit by a few flickering bulbs along the sides. Holly furrowed her brow. "Where are we, then? Precisely?" Pluck shrugged. "I don't know, but I didn't hear anyone in this direction, so we should be safe, right? Hey, think of something big and immobile." Holly nodded and Pluck quickly produced a fortress wall which smashed out through the walls. "Um. I suppose that works. I wonder what the administration will think..."

Holly shook her head. "Who cares about that now? We have to be prepared to fight the others. Help me find some stuff." She bent down to the floor and grabbed a couple of broken bulbs, one unbroken one, and several bits of plaster, shoving them into her pack. She then turned back to the werewolf. "So, I guess we're all alone for now, huh?"

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bluh bluh characterization i don't know cyber is this okay

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Thane was not pleased with this outcome. Acacia was not as practical as he had hoped for, but this was no longer his issue. He would not proceed with the alliance, partly because he was uncertain whether her sonic weapon would even be effective against The Ouroborous, and partly because of her unpredictable attitude that meant she could whimsically choose to turn on him before she had served her purpose. He recalled the introductions the Controller had made and considered a new candidate for an ally; Algernon. He had the ability to create anything, with the correct persuasion he could provide Thane with a veritable arsenal. But Thane was getting ahead of himself. At the moment he had an opportunity to set up an ambush for Acacia and he intended to take it.

He moved to exit the classroom and was suddenly reminded of the bullet in his shoulder, as pain shot down his blade arm. He couldn't ambush anyone with a bullet still lodged inside him. Or maybe he could... He walked across the hall to the peace room, and closed the door behind him. He carefully removed his chestpeice, pauldrons and gauntlets, exposing his mutated skin underneath. Thick blood oozed from the bullet wound. He pressed his hands against it, wincing at the extreme pain this caused. He worked quickly, kicking over desks, pressing his hands up against the glass window in the door and on the doorhandle. Thane did everything he could think of to make it look as though a fight had taken place. He opened the door, made sure that he was not leaving a trail of bloody footprints and ducked back into the classroom with the broken robot. The whole thing had taken him a couple of minutes, he probably had about five left before Acacia was expecting anyone. Now for the final touches.
'Help me.' he thought to every available mind, barring Acacia's. 'The deaf woman has gone insane. She's trapped me in the peace room and she's going to kill me. Please hurry.' And with that he slipped his plate armor back on and started looking for a nurse's office.

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

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Alright, so four small pots stuffed with paper towels. As Algernon carefully set them in his bag, he was suddenly aware how much stuff he was amassing, almost like a chipmunk. The bag wasn't too heavy right now, most of the weight coming from the pots, but if he had to keep running around with it, he was sure to get tired eventually. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to run or the pots could break. Or at least crack.

Algernon suddenly realized that, well, he had nothing to light the paper towels with. These pseudo-bombs wouldn't be able to work without some sort of heat source. Rather stupid of him to overlook that. And there probably wasn't any sort of lighter or at least flint in the whole school. Stupid stupid stupid...

Wait, sometimes kids just took lighters to school. Cigarettes. And sometimes they get caught and those lighters get confiscated, don't they? Except he had no idea what would happen to them afterwards. Would they just throw them away or keep them in a box? In any case, the best place to look would be the principal's office or something like that...

Algernon moved towards the door just as he heard the tchk tchk tchk of metal striking linoleum floor. He immediately rushed back into the room, but not before he accidentally ran into the desk and uttered a muffled half-curse. The Countess paused because, well, you would have to be deaf to be able to ignore that. She entered just as Algernon dove into the kiln room.

As he sat behind one of the kilns, he held the light tightly, hoping he wouldn't have to actually swing it at anybody. Though now that he thinks of it, the light probably wouldn't be much use against a mechanical spider thing. He would probably end up cutting himself. Horribly. Why did he pick it up anyways? He started to finger the gun in his vest pocket, but that really wouldn't help either. He didn't want to use up any memories right now.

He could hear the Countess scuttling around, apparently frustrated because he could also hear some crashing. She would come around to this room soon and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

And then he suddenly heard a voice, except it was in his head. He tried to keep his breathing steady, although there honestly wasn't a point because he was sure the Countess would come around anyways. The Countess apparently heard the voice too, because she paused in her stress relief or whatever it was she was doing. Or maybe he had actually gasped a little and she had heard that.

Algernon started focusing on both the mechanical curiosity outside and this sudden plea for help. He could never ignore pleas for help. He was supposed to be in a battle to the death and he wasn't supposed to help those who were going to try to kill him later on because that's a stupid thing to do and he was trying to avoid teams because then how could he betray people he trusted himself? And it could be a trap besides and when did he get paranoid? It was only the first round and he was already all messed up and confused. It's pretty much official, now. He wouldn't survive and--

Apparently he was horrible at multi-tasking. Suddenly, the Countess was standing in front of him, looking as sour as a robot tarantula-woman hybrid could. (Very sour.) She was looking less creepy and getting a little terrifying. Algernon stood up, still putting the long lightbulb between them.

"Hello," he managed. "You're looking..."

"The elf," The Countess grumbled in explanation. Throwing around chairs had relieved some of her desire to destroy something, but she still dearly wished that she could find another hamster.

Algernon's expression darkened a little at the mention of Holly's emotion-manipulating shenanigans but decided not to say anything.

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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The Countess' cold, blank lenses glared at Algernon, still save for the perpetual tick and toil of the innumerable cogs that comprised the monster. She raised a hand to her face, and ran the slender fingers down the cascade of mechanisms with a rattling sigh. Thane's pleas for help (swiftly disregarded as per the Controller's orders - the subterfuge would be certain to cause more confusion amongst the contestants without the Countess' meddling) had certainly let her clear her head and restore the mask of peaceable civility, even if the repair job was a little hasty and let some terseness through. On the bright side, Algernon was almost too easy to frighten - the Countess merely had to stand there and barely raise a finger. Granted, this made the whole endeavour less than rewarding, but that simply made the Countess aspire to look after the boy, to spare him, simply to relish the added harmonic of betrayl in his terrified screams when she eventually ripped him apart.

Algernon only witnessed a little tick of slightly more exposed teeth from this train of thought. He shifted his fingers round the light, too worried about crushing it in his hands to hold it tighter. The Countess shuffled back a little, fingers raised to her chest in apparent contrition at having alarmed him.

"My apologies, dearest. I'm not here to hurt you." As much as Algernon wanted to believe that, he kept his hands firmly round the tube.

"But... you- he- said-"

"Oh, the Controller? He doesn't bother me," she said with a sinister grin. Trilling gently to herself, she continued, "I'm certain he'd love the sight of me being goaded into self-defence, more than any pain he could inflict upon me himself. And... I think you'll be safe from Sir Arnold's awful fate as well."

"Oh yeah?" Algernon managed to muster a fair bit of pluck for that, but the incredulity was most sincere. The Countess nodded.

"I just told you. Not being cursed with immortality like the knight, the Controller will have to be content with watching how all of you plan to go for each other's throats."

How... can she be so calm about this? "You- you say that like, like you don't-" the words were struggling to get out, the Controller's visceral warning against Algernon's current train of thinking crippling his ability to vocalise it.

The amalgam tittered, waving a dismissive claw. "Of course I don't want to fight! Hm, as I've already reiterated, truly barbaric. Regrettably, by the sound of the Old One, there are some amongst us who enjoy committing such atrocities." She sighed, before locking Algernon in place again with that cool stare, focus intensifying upon him as evidenced by the stacking, whirring lenses. The florescent light flashing off them, whirring round with the slow grace of orbiting moons, until they lined up, eclipsing with an imperceptible click. "So, you're not going to attack me?"

"I, uh..." Algernon fought a vicious argument with himself about who, out of the Controller and the Countess, he least wanted to anger. Panic cascaded into desperation, and he gripped his makeshift staff and charged at the amalgam with a tortured yell. The Countess parried easily, shuffling out of the way, leaving a long leg behind to send Algernon sprawling. The lighting tube shattered as it fell from his hands, a ratchety snicker somewhere behind him. The man, humiliated, couldn't help but think the Countess' mechanical chuckle bore a lot more sincerity than her harpsichord trill, but he was more interested in the sound of shuffling spider feet dulling as the Countess headed for the door. She was still laughing quietly.

"See, Algernon, dear? A little rage is doing you good. Hm, providing it's truly your own... I don't think it should shouldn't matter too much either way. Please, do take care." A snick of a door, and the Countess was gone. Still supplanted against the carpet, Algernon listened to the fading skitter-click as the monster departed.

Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.

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So my computer just went kapuut, and depending on how stubborn my brothers are I might not be able to post in this thing for about a week. Sorry.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

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Ugh, sorry for not posting for so long. It was finals week at my school, and even after they ended I suddenly got hit with writer's block. Anyways, enjoy the hypocrite Wrath at his finest.

Lucas booked it down the corridor, unusually aware of the Ouroborous chasing after him. His feet pounded down against the linoleum tiling of the hallway's floors, making a sickening pounding noise each time it connected. Considering the entire hallway was littered with linoleum tiling, metal lockers, and focused spaces to echo through, the sound of Lucas's sloppy running was amplified a hundredfold against the delicate ears of the Ouroborous's collective mass; as such, it felt repelled to continue chasing Lucas, and instead returned to the gym. Having been so slow, however, it had not made it there in time to find Thane once again.

Lucas, after a long while, stopped running. He hadn't realized that the Ouroborous had stopped chasing him, so he had kept on. He slowed down to a leisurely walk, which then again turned into a brisk jog, and then into a full-blown dash. He heard footsteps bearing down him from the hallway. It was originally a twisted hallucination of Lucas's mind, but eventually it faded and was replaced by the echoing of his own footsteps.

Having decided that this was rediculous enough, Envy soon decided to grab the reins of Lucas's body. Slowly, Lucas's features changed to that of Envy's. His hair grew extensively, his clothes simply seemed to shape like putty into hers. Deciding that, since this was a high school after all, the kids who had kept there must have been keeping some sweet loot in their lockers. Even if it was just drugs or something, she knew she'd be able to trade it for something else when she won this competition and got back into the real world. People would do some crazy shit for their next hit.

"Envy..." Wrath finally spoke up, having recovered from the fear. He'd experienced this kind of thing before; when you're the kind of person that ends up murdering people for fun, he'd learned to deal with fear and the like, but Thane... Thane was a different person, he had concluded, and he decided at that point it was a safe bet to avoid the Old One for a time. Having experienced what might not have even been it's full embrace, Wrath knew that his power was too overwhelming to take on at the moment, and letting any of the four demons try and manipulate Thane's mind might not have ended well. "Can I take back over for now? There's nothing in the lockers, I'm pretty damn well I can assure you. If you spot something, I'll get it for you, but will you do all of us a favor and try not to die? Wandering absentmindedly around the halls like this is only going to get you in trouble. And trust me, Envy," he snarled, "I'm the only one around here who's doing any killing for the next while." Reluctantly, she gave up control to Wrath. He could still feel the thoughts racing through his head, the pure terror... and he didn't even know about what. Nonetheless, he was still in fighting condition.

Trying to keep as quiet as he could, he wandered about the hallways for a couple minutes, hearing distant voices of others. Even though he despised being denied what he had been crowned to do, he decided to stay away from them. If they were so powerful to have been gathered up into this battle, then they were probably not the average, every-day citizens he was used to mindlessly slaughtering. He'd have to implement some strategy.

But suddenly, he felt another wave of emotion crawl over him. He recognized the voice of the Old One he had been fearing just then, but now it was less hateful and more horrified. "The deaf woman has gone insane. She's trapped me in the peace room and she's going to kill me. Please hurry."

Wrath grinned. He saw right through Thane's plan. He wanted the others to feel pity on him, and make the Acacia woman out to be the bad one. Hell, if anything, she was probably saving the day by trapping the bastard in there. Wrath knew, though, that the woman couldn't go so far as to kill him. Even if she was going to try to, Wrath wouldn't let her. Thane had been the source of all of that pain, that fear. No matter who tried to stop him, he was going to kill Thane. He eagerly made his way to the Peace Room.

He hoped it would already be bloody when he got there.

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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SpoilerShow

I should read things all the way through before making comments. This was just to note that people are hearing a disembodied voice and they are not necessarily aware that it was Thane.

I am very good at failing today. [img]images/smilies/headbonk.gif[/img]

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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whoosh!: Oh noooooo However, a week isn't too long in Grand Battle time, so I'll be ecstatic to see you again upon your return [img]images/smilies/slimer.gif[/img]

Ix: Oh whoooooops I think I can call shenanigans with the Controller advising the Countess, but does everyone else edit, or are you just gonna roll with it?

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Roll with it. I didn't say anything after The Countess knew because I figure she'd had advisement. Algernon didn't show any signs of knowing until The Countess mentioned it and Wrath had had prior experience with Thane so he could figure it out. So it does add up. I mainly clarified for the benefit of other characters.

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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It was something about the way the elf said 'alone.' Pluck felt a bit nervous at the inflection, and felt like he needed to get out of there, away from her, at least for a while.
"Well, uh, Holly, I think that I've, erm, got an idea!"
"And what's that?"
"Well... you see..." Pluck didn't have a plan ready, when all of a sudden a voice rung through his head to help him out.
'The deaf woman has gone insane. She's trapped me in the peace room and she's going to kill me. Please hurry.'
"Hey, did you hear that?"
"It sounds like one of the others asking for help."
"Yeah... yes! This is conducive to my plan! Because, uh, staying together is bad! Because The Controller doesn't want teamwork! He wants fighting! So you can go check that out and maybe cause some havoc or something to keep the entertainment high. That would mean that, uh, no more horrible messes of examples and there was something I wanted to check out and you should go do that okay?"
"I don't think I-"
"Good, let's move!" The werewolf ran off quickly, leaving Holly behind with only a vague idea of what she was supposed to be doing.
To be fair, there was something he wanted to take a look at. As far as he knew, nobody had gone into the basement of the school, and after a few minutes of looking for the stairs down (keeping out of sight of his competitors that he passed on the way, he finally managed to find a stairwell leading down. He was a little concerned about the pitch darkness that they led to, but if anything happened, he had his tried and true method of 'shoot at it until it stops.'
He took one step down, and immediately tripped.
"Fuck!" he cried as he hit the bottom, "I fell down all those stairs!"
He couldn't really blame anybody, though. He had been warned about stairs, prior to this battle starting.
Getting up, and rubbing his rear end in pain, he moved towards the only door he could make out in the darkness, but he wasn't quite prepared for what was through the door. He had, of course, been through plenty of strange things. The incident when he first discovered his power. His lycanthropy. Most visits to the movie theater and playing 'thought bingo.' Being pulled into a battle against a mass of bugs, a putty being, an elf, and various others. Yet, he still stood in silent awe at the view in front of him.
On the wall, 'IMMORTUS' could be read. Perhaps the name of the gigantic, slumbering tortoise.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

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"Fuck!" he cried as he hit the bottom, "I fell down all those stairs!"
He couldn't really blame anybody, though. He had been warned about stairs, prior to this battle starting.

GOD DAMNIT CYBER

Originally posted on MSPA by Godbot.

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Barren plaster and slick tiles and waxed wooden floors. And stagnant, empty stillness. Besides the droning of fluorescent lights overhead, the first floor of Focal High School was completely lifeless.

Ouroborous slowly, methodically wriggled down the hall away from the gym, rounding a corner that led to a stairwell. Scent trails were thin and dense, swerving and crossing over each other. Some of them were many days old. A few Ouroborites veered off to one side at the smell of an interesting trail before immediately doubling back and rejoining the mass of insects to devour a weakened comrade or burrow its way into the center to lay more eggs, or even to retreat from the cold floor. Much more pressing issues to deal with. There was so much information that there might as well have been none at all.

Already frustrated and impatient from the last few minutes of fruitless hunting, a few insects at the forefront of the swarm skittered ahead in search of fresh prey. Plumes of pheromone gas gathered the attention of the rest of Ouroborous, and it began to crawl forward. After all, there was nothing to-

As one, Ouroborous stopped in its tracks.

"Help me. The daef woman has gone iansne. She's tpeprad me in the paece room and she's gonig to klil me. Palese hurry."

Antennae twitched and flicked pensively as tens of thousands of minds dimly picked up the concept of a cry for help, embedded in a psychic message in thick, heavy language that it couldn't understand. Cry for help. Help meant wounds, wounded prey, wounded comrades, a battle that was being lost or a fight already won, a call to swarm and overwhelm, an invisible primal beacon, meant come closer, always, help meant come closer

come closer

Responding to the dull headaches from the psychic message, Ouroborous gathered together and picked up speed, unquestioningly making its collective way towards the uncertain. Fight or prey, it was better than nothing. It slowed down and thinned out when it reached the stairs, some of the Ouroborites skittering up the walls while others lurched their way up each step. A few lost their grips and fell onto their backs, and Ouroborites dropped off the walls and ceiling to quickly rip it apart before they could right themselves. A thick, pungent scent wafted down the stairs, and the Ouroborites looked up, their beady eyes glazed over. Scent of battle, scent of wounded comrades, scent of slaughtered prey, of fresh carcasses, scent of EVERYTHING, of ripping and tearing and shredding and flaying with claws and mandibles, the rush of battle, overwhelming, euphoria, carnage, everywhere at once

The crystal-clear scent of blood, thick and dripping and fresh.


Frail, useless little legs scrabbled and chafed at smooth black bands across Ourobororite underbellies, letting loose a chittering, howling collective screech that echoed against itself in the tight stairwell, a horrible screech that sounded like being twisted apart, like needles against your skull. Windows shattered in rapid succession, one after the other down the hall. Contestants in other rooms fell to their knees or on their sides, clutching their heads as if it would protect their minds from the the paralyzing shriek, resonating in their heads like crashing waves and helicopter blades and overlapping with itself as the high-pitched yell started back up. Ouroborous surged and fluttered and poured out of the stairwell, driven by overpowering bloodlust, all these people and the scent of EVERYTHING bearing down on it, searching for prey, anything to sate the hunger and stop the burning