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**btp** · 10-06-2009, 11:08 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

"I offer to add eons to your existence, and this is how you choose to repay me?" Samuel clutched the bloody arm, a foul stench began to emanate from the wound. "Do you think that I seek to betray you? Hardly. My dear Balancer, I find a body such as yours, one fueled by death, far more useful than any extension of life. I have no need of 'eternal life'. I can simply pluck life from another being as one plucks fruit from a tree." Samuel stared into the featureless eyes of the Sunset, and grinned.

GBCE · 10-07-2009, 02:15 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

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Sruixan · 10-07-2009, 12:38 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

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"I'm not 100% sure what to make of this," muttered Maxwell. "I mean... getting the orbs back, that would be difficult. Mind bogglingly difficult. I mean, it's not like one could go up to Gestalt and ask him to hand the orb over... which other one's miss- got it! It's Nu that's missing as well... the thirteenth letter; oh the irony... but still, hang on? Here's one for you..."

Once again, the notepad was brought out. A few scribbles later and Maxwell had his answer.

"Every symbol here is exactly what it should be to make the full alphabet. The full Greek alphabet. The full alphabet of an ancient civilisation from one planet in one universe - the one that I inhabited. Isn't that odd? But... 'ang on, the chances of these orbs being in the right language for me to comprehend? Nil. Practically, anyway. Unless... I guess if one can pluck someone from a universe where there's such a thing as matter that repells energy, it shouldn't be too difficult to find versions of our universes where everyone would have the same languages, the same sentence structure, the same ancient alphabets... odd, though."

A pause. Maxwell's hat, a trilby (though he'd never call it that if asked...), though often glued to his head, was finally taking the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, but it was not to be and he pushed it back up to reinforce control.

"Why go to the trouble of having these orbs if this is supposed to be a battle? Has the Observer, henceforth, not created this place we're in? Or does he not know this exists? Too many questions; the point is, what do we do? We don't know where the other orb is. If we tried to get everyone to co-operate to solve this... impossible, seriously; Gestalt is likely to attempt to kill anything that moves, Samuel... is weird, um... The Sunset... we still dunno what that energy thing was..."

A page was ripped out of the book - a first for Maxwell. Twenty-four symbols that The Faceless could assume to be those of the orbs, as well as some others which it couldn't quite realise.

"Do you wonder... do you think that these orbs... do you... you know, will this ever be finished? I mean, our appearance here, in this field - we've made things worse. I mean, we haven't moved much, really. The orbs that aren't here must have been nearby. Now we're strewn all other the place, on different planes, even. Chaos, Kaos, whatever one calls it, has come to poke order with a rapier, newspaper, giant robot thingy and a pile of boxes, amongst other things. How... erm..."

What word would go well here? Goodness only knows... but Maxwell realised he was tiring himself out again and soon would undo the affects of his respite. He shut up.

**Schazer** · 10-07-2009, 05:57 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Vyrm'n stretched out an arm again, so Maxwell could catch his thoughts.

I suppose... you must be right. Reccxer is human; I presume... yet he defies the laws of your own universe. The magician, Samuel, Galus... they are all your species also; yet their existance and circumstance is inconsistent with your comprehension of the universe. Vyrm'n paused, thinking harder than it'd ever really bothered to before. Five "humans"... and three very different constructs. What made the... Observer choose five of your kind, then three amongst all the others that must exist amongst all the universes. That would mean... uh... hmm...

Maxwell may have tired himself out again, but he had almost heard the crunch with which the Faceless' train of thought had ground to a halt. "Either there are far more universes with humans; or... the Observer has a certain favouritism."

Maxwell sensed Vyrm'n getting pensive. If it is... favouritism, as you say; would that mean...

"He's human? Somehow, I doubt it. Well, actually... perhaps. Maybe a long time ago... cripes, this is too much to have to think about... Anyway, doubtless he's far transcended that definition by now."

So... is he a god, then? The silence that followed that question fell like a great, thick, choking cloth over the two of them. Maxwell decided it was best not to think about it, for now.

"Well, what do you think of... this, then?"

It is a circle of resurrection brought by the promise of pain and sacrifice.

"Um, I meant the fact the symbols are from my universe, but not my time."

Oh. Vyrm'n stoppepd to think about it. Do you recall what the Observer told us in the void?

"Um, *turns to the page he'd written it down in his notebook* 'We've been entered in a fight to the death/ I must admit, this isn't the most original idea, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up/ Here's how it's going to go/ There's going to be a number of rounds/ Every round one of you will die, and I'll give you a new change in scenery. Sound good/ Any objections/ Too bad/ You get no choice'...
That's all on this page, was that what you wanted? Hold on... 'the most original...'
Oh, well that makes sense now." Maxwell put his notebook away.

How so?

Maxwell tried smiling a little at his own epiphany, but the truth was cold comfort. "A battle of this nature has been done before; and now the Observer is trying it for himself. See, 'I must admit'... He makes no excuses for unoriginalities; this is pure sport for him. Doubtless this world-" Maxwell waved an arm around "-is the creation of some, most probably human, mind. The Observer saw fit to pilfer it as the first act of our tragedy."

Maxwell suddenly experienced the strangest sensation of darkness slipping quietly and intangibly through his mind; before the feeling disappeared just as quickly and Vyrm'n gave off a feeling of satisfaction. "Was... that you?" Vyrm'n agreed.

I found the word you were thinking of... I believe is was "clusterfuck".

SleepingOrange · 10-07-2009, 08:26 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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GBCE · 10-07-2009, 08:26 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The Sunset quietly and unceremoniously aimed Nightmare at Samuel's torso.

"Pleasant dreams."

A single piercingly purple shot burst forward. There was a fascinatingly electrical hole where most of Samuel's body had been. The Karmist fell to the ground, gasping and choking, with no lungs to suck in air and no heart to sustain his rapidly wilting higher functions. The Sunset walked over the man and continued his mechanical motions, failing to notice the sudden rush of activity in certain sections of the Karmist's mind.....

**Schazer** · 10-07-2009, 08:32 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Robust Laser · 10-07-2009, 08:39 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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**btp** · 10-08-2009, 04:42 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

Will you continue to let that golem look down on you like that? Does he not know what you're capable of?

...Whats this?... Samuel?...Are you dead?

You are pitiful, Samuel. Luxury has made you weak. Allow me to remind you where your strength truly lies.
----
The Sunset lowered it's massive rifle. The Karmist's demolished form crumpled over in a smoldering pile of gore. From the bloody heap the dark smell of rot and decay arose and permeated through the garden. The balancer knew beings of Samuel's type exude such a stench after death, but it normally took days for the scent to become so overpowering. The Sunset turned to investigate the matter.

Before The Sunset, the mutilated corpse of Samuel Therion stood knees bent, back hunched over. Some dark ethereal force swirled about the gaping hole in the creature's chest. Blood poured out haphazardly, forming a pool of deep red at the base of the resurrected corpse. The lifeless eyes stared at the Balancer, and a lone hand rose in its direction.

Instinctively, The Sunset's machine gun launched a spray of bullets at the creature, the bits of shrapnel hissing when they punctured the beast's flesh. RATTA TATA RATTA TATA RATA TA...click...click...click The Balancer was not out of ammo. He had enough ammo stored up for week long firefights if needed. No something was wrong. The Sunset glanced down at his weapon. The gun appeared normal but failed to fire. Suddenly two pistons on the back of the suit pulled taught and The Sunset's head snapped upright. The massive arms locked to its side and the machine stood rigid, unable to move, forced to stare at the half-alive grinning corpse of the Karmist.

What disconcerted the Sunset more than his current immobility, more than the bloody visage before him, even more than the wretched stench engulfing him, was the increasing awareness that the secret value that only he knew of, the number that both counted the power left in his suit and his remaining days of existence, was decreasing. At first, only a few hours slipped past him but then days, weeks, months, all of this precious time began to drain from The Sunset. Not only this, but the repair function on his suit began to activate. Nothing on the Sunset, however, needed repairing. Then the Balancer noticed. The corpse of Samuel Therion was reforming.

Small pieces of flesh pulled themselves together. The crisp burns left from the electric blast faded away and the skin began to grow anew, creeping its way down the Karmist's body. Visible from the still gaping hole, the vaporized skeleton regrew upon itself, sinew and muscles winding their way around the bone like vines up a tree. The heart and lungs he had lost reappeared, first as small nubs of flesh, but they grew, expanding to reach their proper positions and size. The skin closed the once massive gap created by the Balancer's rifle, and Samuel stood upright once more, his arm outstretched towards The Sunset. An invisible dark force leached the life energy of the Sunset, forcing the machinery that runs off death to work for the man that wields death itself. The bullets lodged in Samuel's flesh worked their way out, landing on the ground with a harmless thud. The bruises and scrapes obtained from the schrotgolem's beating faded away as if they had never existed. Finally his suit, tattered and torn, began weaving itself back together. The loose threads intertwined perfectly, the wrinkles from traveling smoothed out, and buttons lost or opened reformed and buttoned once more.

Samuel Therion stood before The Sunset, fully healed, fully renewed. His white grin gleamed against his jet black suit.
"Well now, golem, " the word seethed with irreverence for the once mighty Balancer as if he was nothing more than disobedient slave, " I have made the choice much easier for you now. You now have one year left in your pitiful life. You could attempt to kill me once more and perish in that time or sooner. Or, and truly this is your only option, you can do as I say and aid me in obtaining the orbs."

Samuel continued, "They are in the center of the garden, where we left the man with that annoying cane and that...collection of rubbish. The orbs are not there physically, no their physical presence is in the other realm, but their spiritual presence lies in that area of the garden and that is what I need access to. Well then, what is your choice?", Samuel grinned, and then added "Oh and keep in mind that I am your only hope of regaining your life."

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GBCE · 10-08-2009, 04:56 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Alice.

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**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 05:05 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n's essence stood still, trying to figure out what on earth its senses were telling it. Maxwell, starting to become more acquainted with the Faceless' few externally similar moods; opened his mouth and was silenced by a black palm pointed authoritatively in his face. He let the shadow do its thing. Then with a fluid motion the hand extended out further until it rested upon Maxwell; the Faceless told him to wait here and it leapt over the wall and sailed across the sky to where the Sunset had shifted from.

As the last location of the Balancer's matter, the area still cried weakly of the Sunset's presence; weakly mewling for the matter which had been plucked from this existence. Listening intently to the last trailing remnants of the Balancer's song which still prevailed on this plane, Vyrm'n could tell something cataclysmic had occured to the Balancer.
The Faceless could not catch the specifics, all it knew was it was. Unable to glean further information, Vyrm'n leapt into the air again and sailed over to Cabaret and Galus.

The pilot was shooting frantically at the oncoming tendrils of the hell-plant; Cabaret was hanging upside down in a very undignified manner while trying to dislodge himself with a rake. Samuel was simply standing there, encased in vines but obviously allied with them somehow. Vyrm'n took in the scene; but found all the activity and vitality rather distracting. Raising its bulk like a wrecking ball to gain the maximum momentum, Vyrm'n rammed into the hell-plant's roots with all the force and fury of a full and malevolent concrete mixer hurtling out of control down a hill; ignoring the ineffectual tendrils which could make no impression on the Faceless' night-hide with their spines of cellulose.

The crushing was rather injurous to the plant; it recoiled and reverted to the defensive, dropping Cabaret with a thump and wrapping around Samuel's shell without showing any intent to attack.
Dusting himself off, Cabaret stepped forward with only a hint of wariness towards the Faceless. "I must thank you for your-" Cabaret was silenced by a black large inky hand engulfing his face; the Faceless whispered in his mind.

Do not encroach upon my good temper again lest I decide you are more irritating than others are dangerous. Now be silent while I examine this man. Its message conveyed, the black hand withdrew into Vyrm'n's bulk, and the Faceless listened.

Well... it had found one of the orbs, or what remained of it. Vyrm'n, fundamentally being a watcher of matter, was unromantically understanding of the nature of living things. Matter was the only perpetuity; life as a whole was simply one of the more grandiose states any given piece of existence may play a part in for some serendiptious, fleeting role in; a moment to let the atomic voice soar in complex, orchestral unison before the organisation collapsed and it reverted back to another disjointed four billion-odd years of cacophony for the Faceless' ears; give or take a millenia.
Any single given life, a microcosm of that again; and to Vyrm'n's subconscious perception, the slightly lesser for it.

No, matter kept singing in life or death or never-known-the-other; and was as unromantic of the notion of life and sentience as Vyrm'n was. Thus, Vyrm'n never saw death as a destruction; simply a change of tempo or pitch or timbre; disconcerting and jarring perhaps, on occasion; but never a cause for regret or moody introspection.

And yet, as it stood listening to the song chanted by the body of Samuel Therion, something in the Faceless acknowledged that the nature of this man was fundamentally wrong. Vyrm'n had no conscious comprehension of what allowed it to reach this conclusion, until it heard the undercurrent which harked from Samuel's existence on the other plane. It was still barely audible, but much easier to discern when a definite phsicality remained upon Vyrm'n's plane.

Vyrm'n, for a second, had heard Samuel's flesh cry out for something lost. To Vyrm'n's senses, it was a whimper synonyous with death; matter glancing up to see the new twitch of the conductor's baton and hurriedly changing the tempo again; or rather; to see the conductor had fallen from the plinth and take the invitation to trumpet on with blissful, cacophonic abandon.

Yet this time; a force inexplicable picked up the condcutor, dusted him off, and set the song of Samuel Therion's existence off again.

He controls the flow of life and death... Vyrm'n shut itself off from this plane; blocking out as much information as it could except for the chaos in the Karmist. Samuel... had been alive, then should've been dead... and now he was alive. Vyrm'n heard it clearly as a dirge of something approaching pain for the substance of Samuel. Matter was not meant to do this; after the crescendo and climax of death, came the mellow legato of decomposition, of ashes to ashes, dust to dust, earth to food, food to life, and then, maybe, eventually... life to an explosive aural exultation of sentience.
Yet all this had occured in the space of a few moments; and Vyrm'n heard the matter crying out in distress for it.

Vyrm'n checked itself, shifting its focus to examine the overall song of Samuel Therion. In comparison, the man's overall song was simple: Deathbringer. Liferender.
The garden was abound with the force of life; Vyrm'n knew that much from Maxwell's recon. With that in mind, it "slipped into Samuel's shoes", not literally; the spikes still swirled menacingly about him, but more the Faceless trying out the Karmist's song on for a little to see what it could glean.

The orbs, Vyrm'n realised. They are the same as him. Resurrection through sacrifice. Without delay, or explanation to a perplexed Galus and Cabaret, Vyrm'n leapt into the sky a third time and returned to Maxwell as swiftly as possible. The Faceless was so hasty it gouged a huge trench in the earth as it landed. Maxwell hurried over, wondering for a moment whether the Faceless had injured itself; but it stood effortlessly and did its best to explain what it had discovered; though its thoughts were reaching stream-of-consciousness speed and thus discarded chronological, or for that matter, logical order. After several run-throughs, however, Maxwell seemed to get it.

"So... Samuel's after the orbs?" *nod*
"And... he's already strong enough without whatever they contain?" *nod*
"And... he doesn't need to come here to activate them?" *nod*
Maxwell glanced around the circle, rubbing his chin and occasionally sliding his hand over his face to rub his eyes tiredly. "I suppose we have to destroy them, at least. Are you strong enough?"

Vyrm'n gingerly grabbed the nearest orb; Psi. Lifting it nervously, nothing seemed to happen. Maxwell stood expectantly; Vyrm'n shuffled it until it was positioned atop its pillar-like form.

Then without warning, Vyrm'n accelerated and crashed top-first into the psi-adorned wall. A gut-wrenching scream rips through the air, echoing across the dead garden.
Reforming in a fluid motion to shed the pieces of orb, a little black blob, about the size of a ping-pong ball, falls out of the biggest piece of orb. Vyrm'n engulfs it in a black fist, Maxwell still watching with trepidation.

A slightly more muffled groan emnates from the region of Vyrm'n's black fist. Maxwell touched the Faceless' hide again to find out what happened, and felt like his entire being was plummetting into an infinite void hidden beneath the solid surface of Vyrm'n exterior.

Vyrm'n noticed, and shoved Maxwell away with more force than might've been necessary. The man staggered away, overbalanced, and collapsed on the brown grass; the Faceless' hand retreated back into the core. Both seemed shaken by the experience; Maxwell unconsciously cradling his face in his hands like he was checking to see if it was still there.

"What... did... you just... do?" Maxwell asked shakily. Vyrm'n reached out slowly, Maxwell shied away at first but then let the Faceless lay a hand on him. Its voice was sorrowful, but calm.

I cast Psi's being into the infinite dark.

"So... that's what we have to do to destroy all of these?"

Yes.

"Does... does it hurt you at all?"

Vyrm'n paused for only a moment, before replying in the negative. Maxwell went and grabbed alpha, beta, gamma, and delta in his arms, and passed them wordlessly to the Faceless. Again, it raised itself before ramming into the wall with a crunch. Bits of orb-shell and black slime smeared the Psi on the wall. It wouldnt have been surprising if the scream had been heard over in the garden realm, Galus and Cabaret almost certainly heard it and Maxwell was just about deafened.

Sruixan · 10-08-2009, 07:21 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

For a moment or two, the garden was silent - at least, to Maxwell it was. The desperate shrieks of the orbs as they met their demise had been enough to send his body aquiver. Sensing danger, his ears refused the notion of an outside world, and for that moment or two, there was a little peace in between the walls.

Sighing, Maxwell bent down and picked up Epsilon, Zeta, Eta & Iota. These he held without an utterance, but, inside his mind, something was wrong. Something was screaming at him, he was sure of it. How? He hadn't a clue, but he was way too unsettled.

"Vyrm'n... Vyrm'n... no... tell me, do you think we really have enough of a cause for destruction here? I mean, I've never... well, technically never killed another soul... but... look, consider this: the Observer spoke of a number of rounds. We've already come to the conclusion that it is reasonable enough to suggest that he is an omnipotent entity. But... but, Vyrm'n... please..."

That blackness. Not just the creature in front of him, but the shadows, waiting in the wings, waiting for their signal...

Maxwell then did something he hadn't been wanting to do. He gave the Faceless the orbs.

"What is the use? What else is there? Vyrm'n, as much as I hate to be part of this destruction - how I wish I could display such an... uncaring? Not quite right... nonchalant attitude towards all this as you do - but I shall continue. Resurrection through sacrifice. Apply it anywhere you fancy. Need a moral sharpish? Why, stick it in! Here, we are sacrificing these... things, hoping to resurrect the notion of a more peaceful fight... oxymoronic, but the tru-"

Egads, the shrill this time... was Vyrm'n even paying attention to him? As much as he wanted the Faceless to respect him, its detached behaviour was very much unnerving him. He couldn't be sure of it now; earlier, he thought he could understand, but now... but now...

Kappa, Lambda, Mu & Xi coming up.

**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 07:56 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n - no, the Faceless held the last remnants of being that were Epsilon, Eta, Zeta, and Iota. Shutting off the world around it, the dark being fled to that eternal corner of itself; unreformable even after being cast through the crucible of its first contact and devouring of sentience. This unfathomable uber-night was the last remnant of the true Faceless - the one undefined by the petty abstractions placed upon it by sentience in an attempt to know it, and leave it dissected in front of them on the table; understood and dead inside and out.

Vyrm'n itself did not understand how this darkest corner of itself functioned, only that it posessed this duality within and to examine it too closely would be to invite the destruction of the fragile construct defined as Vyrm'n. As such, that facet of the Faceless simply commanded the shadow's physical being, closing the black fingers round the weakly crying souls; plunging them into a void which was so eternal and uncaringly boundless that the spirits scattered into a comparitive nothing.

It was painless, clinical, and despairing for the four guardians as even their physical existence collapsed into unimportance after staring into the Facless' emptiness.

And so it was for Vyrm'n. It saw no other way to swiftly destroy these beyond any hope of repair. It assumed that even Samuel could not encroach that void without losing the part that was Samuel. Vyrm'n's soul sighed, and restored its authority within the black. It turned to Maxwell tiredly, and plucked Kappa, Lamda, Mu, and Xi. As it absorbed the orbs into its darkness, Vyrm'n's consciousness flicked briefly against Maxwell's.

If you think I gain pleasure from this, you are wrong. The part of me which has this capability is a part incapable of pleasure as you experience it. It is... the piece not even humanity can take from me. I use it now... as a tool for my survival... and yours. Nothing more.

Vyrm'n leapt into the sky, climbing swiftly. Maxwell thought he heard the orbs wailing already, and was certain of it as Vyrm'n let gravity act upon them and they fell swiftly to the ground with a dopplerised scream and crunch. Vyrm'n gathered up the black souls within each, before standing by the orb-caked wall and wrenching the lid off the void again. There was a whimper, a star-speckled hand closing too tightly to contain anything in it; then all that remained was the ringing in ears of a remembered death.

Maxwell looked at the next four lining up for plunging into that void. Omicron, Pi, Rho, and Sigma. After them, Tau, Upsilon, Phi, and Chi.
Lastly, Omega.

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Sruixan · 10-08-2009, 08:06 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

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SleepingOrange · 10-08-2009, 09:18 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

The professor's plan was beginning to come clear to his companion. The two had been conversing since Samuel's disappearance, reasoning that at the very least they were relatively safe where they were.

possibly but i remain unconvinced that using it in that manner will produce-

The pen skittered across the paper, and what visible objects of the schrotgolem's body there were convulsed. It shook for about thirty seconds, then stopped abruptly, scribbling hurriedly

use that staff of yours to come after me if you can i have to have have to to

The garden around the pair was... wrong. It was bending, as though viewed through water, and out of the corner of one's eyes, one could see the wasteland it was in its other manifestation. The schrotgolem was vibrating again, rattling and clinking loudly; before the professor had the chance to ask what was happening, it disappeared.

-

Omega joined its siblings under the Faceless's ministrations; Maxwell hung his head, mumbling quietly, regret tinging every word.

"We had to do it, right?"

At this point, a box landed on his head, followed by eight others. An unearthly voice shook the plane, not actually audible, but clearly able to be perceived. A voice of mourning, tinged with fury.

"Yoooooooou..."

The boxes wrapped around Maxwell and flung him aside like a ragdoll before Vyrm'n could move. Hovering over them was the faint figure of a hollow-eyed man with a barely-visible symbol on his forehead. It slowly extended a hand towards the Faceless, an expression of immutable sorrow twisting its face.

Vyrm'n could feel some of the schrotgolem's thoughts the way it could Maxwell's; it didn't need to touch, since location is a bit of a fuzzy concept for something of that nature, but the communication wasn't as clear. Vyrm'n could feel a distinct duality in the emotions and thoughts assailing it; there was the being it knew as Gestalt, and another one whose song was like those the Faceless had just cut short, the two singing in harmony, but with a distinctly discordant tone.

what have you
done you've killed
them all them killed all
you done you

killed killed

dead

all dead

Vyrm'n was on its guard, ready to repel and counterattack the minute its adversary moved, but the boxes just sat there on the ground, unmoving. The man that was presumably Nu held out its accusatorially-pointed arm, vague, disjointed thoughts and immeasurable melancholy pressing against the Faceless from all sides.

Maxwell stood up and dusted himself off, a little dazed, and turned to see the column of night and stack of boxes apparently... staring each other down. To his eyes, there was no figure hovering above the golem, to his ears no wailing, to his mind no oppressive grief. He scratched his chin and started to speak, and realized he was dumbfounded. He closed his mouth again, surprised.

death to them all you
killed them killed sealed away all
dead dead murder how could you
do it

how the murder dead

killed dead death

gone

all

Gestalt was not quite itself.

Sruixan · 10-08-2009, 10:31 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

"Right... something's wrong. That golem thing comes along, out of the blue, something says "Yoooooooou..." and then this staring match starts. Neither Vyrm'n or Gestalt can speak, I certainly didn't say anything, so who did? Nobody is in the vicinity... nobody I know of, then. So... some unknown entity I haven't come across as of yet said it... why? Omega..."

Paler than a few minutes ago, it suddenly occured to Maxwell that all was not right with the world - namely, the slight fuzziness in the corner of his eye - the odd splotch with increased sharpness, the ripples on the surface...

2 out of 24 is not a huge amount. What if...

Careful not to disrupt the showdown, Maxwell slunk off, around the crimson facade that had been blocking his view. Pressed against the other side, he let his breathing run riot and allowed his eyes to dart. Was that blob over there another contestant? Was it a wall? Was it a figment of his imagination, or a blemish on the fabric of this world, caused by the innocent crime that Vyrm'n and he had committed? There was a possible sighting of Cabaret, but otherwise there was nothing that stood out from the monochromatic landscape before him.

Something was shouting at Maxwell again. Comprehension was not coming easily today, but... it was shouting for a reason, right?

Hang on... shouting... "You" was Vyrm'n... it had done...

Now the same colour as the unblemished side of the wall, Maxwell took another gander at the scene behind the screen. Yes... the area above Gestalt was slightly more warped than the rest of the landscape...

Those boxes... had an orb, right? So... if the orbs were connected to the garden somehow...

"There's nothing I can do... I can't see it... I can't touch it... it's not going to reveal itself for me, is it? It's Vyrm'n it wants... so what if I gave it the orbs, it could have got them itself just as easily... but the point is... the point..."

Just before the battle, Maxwell had been fencing with Uncle Nick... now the rapier that he'd been taking home was being pulled out of... it wasn't quite a proper rapier belt, since he'd never liked having anything on shoulder, but a few small magnets and a late night with a sowing machine had produced something more akin to a normal belt, a little more cumbersome of course, but decent enough to produce the desired result - a comfortable, thankfully unnoticable holder for a weapon that hadn't ever seen real usage; it was oft more gainfully employed at barbecues, but right now, that wasn't something worth touching upon... well, actually...

Unsheathed, the rapier was put to use - poking Gestalt tentatively. Whilst not perhaps the intended use, it did something useful - that is, prove Maxwell's theory that the contents of the orb had done something to the bunch of boxes. Sure enough, there wasn't much of a response. Maxwell's perception quivered briefly, but the violent retaliation one would expect from the boxes didn't arrive.

Then the shouting started again. This was going to have to stop. Desperately.

Dragon Fogel · 10-08-2009, 03:29 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 05:50 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n cast away the last soul, Omega; and backed away from the precipice. The memory of its callous ravenousness faded from the Faceless' mind as it glanced about the field.

It didn't feel commanding or triumphant or even murderous; it was simply tired and perhaps sickened with itself, though it did not understand where the sensation sprung from. Vyrm'n had never regretted before, neither with the gore of its victims dripping from its form, nor in retrospect.

Vyrm'n did another thing it never had before; it justified itself in its own mind. This is for the better. I destroyed them without looking for gain; and to prevent another from twisting their existences into a mockery of the nurturing, gentle spirits they were.

Besides, Maxwell said it was a figment; a copy; not the original. Really, I am fit to do as I please here.

At that point, Gestalt reappeared and hurled Maxwell away. Vyrm'n was about to leap to its partner's aid, but something stopped it. Knowing the forces required to dash a human's head against a surface; Vyrm'n assumed Gestalt would have been more than capable to open Maxwell's mind to the rest of the field. Yet, it did not; simply content to toss him roughly but not forcibly aside.

Vyrm'n stared at the pile of boxes, trying to ascertain what was going on. Some...thing materialised, Vyrm'n saw it not as a physical manifestation; but rather a whole extra row of strings being added to Gestalt's orchestra, if you will.

Nu-Gestalt screamed soundlessly at Vyrm'n; it caused no physical pain for the Faceless but nonetheless discomforted it.

Eventually, Vyrm'n had enough of not being able to respond. It redefined itself so everything about it commanded Nu-Gestalt to STOP. The duality halted , though not in its constant stream of misery and pain. Vyrm'n pulled out the knife it had kept of Gestalt's; once the golem saw it and reclaimed it as its own Vyrm'n was able to speak more directly to Nu-Gestalt.

Yes, I consigned the guardians to the void.

No, I cannot bring them back. I destroyed them because - because they are fated to die. Not necessarily by my role, but they are. This plane, and the other, are both a simple figment; a copy of a construct imagined up by the Observer.

He brought you into being; and if the eight of us had departed without affecting any of you, he would have shut off the light of this world without second thought or remorse. We are all his playthings, simply your kin had the burden of thinking you were sacred; that your place here was hallowed and indelible.

You are wrong. I would have let you be; but you became the playthings of us, the Observer's playthings again. Thus I destroyed you all to prevent one amongst us from growing powerful enough to wreak more havoc on the next world we are sent to.

I know it must seem like selfishness and self-preservation on my part; and I know these last words of mine simply encroach on your goodwill; but please at least take them in.

If your death was inevitable, at the very least my path prevented you from causing more harm; more pain. Nu-Gestalt made no reply, Vyrm'n loosened its hold on Gestalt's knife. Perhaps I was... too swift to judge your character, and it is still no justification of my act... but I thought... you would have preferred your final role to be to save lives; not destroy them.

Vyrm'n dropped the knife with an inert clatter at its base; and said no more.

GBCE · 10-08-2009, 06:00 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by snoomanwaff.

Cabaret, now disoriented from the screaming, starts to stagger towards center of the area, rake in hand, to look for galus, who happens to be behind him.

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**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 07:08 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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**btp** · 10-08-2009, 07:12 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

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SleepingOrange · 10-08-2009, 07:13 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

Re-served

**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 07:16 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

bobthepen Wrote:

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SpoilerHey now Samuel's body isn't doing anybody any harm right now. :P Shazer, why must you ruin my beautiful plans with your elegant wording and musical metaphors? Nah, I jest. I'll post something in 3-4 hours or so.

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Robust Laser · 10-08-2009, 07:18 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

Schazer Wrote:
bobthepen Wrote:

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SpoilerHey now Samuel's body isn't doing anybody any harm right now. :P Shazer, why must you ruin my beautiful plans with your elegant wording and musical metaphors? Nah, I jest. I'll post something in 3-4 hours or so.

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SpoilerCause I can, betch. Plus you know, you're the villain and I [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img] ragtime.
Um... round's over in 2 and a half. Then the 24-Hour amnesty for the knocked-out player is over and we can all try kill him/it at once.

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**Schazer** · 10-08-2009, 07:23 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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