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**Schazer** · 10-14-2009, 04:07 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n, stripped of its self-control and sanity, had just about finished letting off every last trap and death-threat the Funhouse offered. Each did little damage to it, other than drive the part of it which shied away from the onslaught of song deeper and deeper behind the protection of the void.
Its grand tour of the deathtrap domicile completed, with no trace of Cabaret, Vyrm'n buckled a load-bearing wall in frustration. Rage still pounded unceasingly through its black soul, demanding an outlet.

The Faceless stood stock-still, another blip of consciousness probing for the conjurer's presence, and failing with the mess of debris the shadow stood in.

But wait, something else... in the spore room. Continuing with its present theme of a direct, head-first approach at tackling problems, Vyrm'n leapt at the ceiling, each Funhouse-quaking smack stressing the floorboards.

On the third leap, Vyrm'n soared out of the floor with a splintering crunch; startling Galus who crouched behind the remnants of Vyrm'n's barricade on the spore room exit. Readying his pistol, the pilot waited as he listened to the Faceless redistribute its bulk so it could remain on the ruined floor without the whole room failing structurally.

Galus wasn't expecting the Faceless to eschew the doorway and ram the patch of wall he sheltered behind, though. He only had a split second to react as he heard the creak of floorboards, and the first splintering plinks of wood being rent apart by a massive force.

SleepingOrange · 10-14-2009, 04:45 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

There was... Destruction. The golem could hear it, and more importantly, could feel it. A group of boxes and various other objects slid away from the now-stripped section of carnival games, each making for the funhouse and the bangs coming from it.

-

Cabaret, still coughing and blowing his nose on a series of handkerchiefs from his sleeve, didn't notice the small length of chain from a cheap plastic necklace loop around his ankle and fasten itself.

-

Maxwell was only a little way away from the carnival games when he heard the bangs. He bit a nail, thoughts temporarily interrupted and sent spinning down different paths. He was figuring distance to the source when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye; his head snapped around and he saw a marionette dancing around the corner, followed by a tangle of unfilled balloons and an old-fashioned milk bottle. This, he mused could be relevant.

-

aid me should things proceed poorly

It was more an addendum, a corollary, an afterthought, than the original intent of the truce. It shouldn't have mattered. A fragile, nearly-powerless human should have posed no threat to an ageless being of nothingness made real. And yet, the funhouse was the convergence point for a surprising number of inanimate objects sliding through the shadows. The schrotgolem wasn't even going to directly attack Cabaret yet; it couldn't: it had rescuing to do. Absurd.

The inside was as clear as day to the perception of the golem. There was the Faceless, there was its assailant... Maybe things weren't going as poorly as it had thought at first. Still, taking risks didn't pay off; the professor had proved that, rather distressingly.

Gestalt had no intention of going back on its word.

**Schazer** · 10-14-2009, 05:42 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Vyrm'n righted itself, barely avoiding the hole in the floor it had whacked Cabaret through previously, its scattered soul affixing itself upon Galus who launched two light-speed bolts of plasma at the shadow from his pistol.
The Faceless simply took the shots, which left no scar upon its consciousness but instead proceeded to scorch the black surface; glowing burns arcing across the surface like luminous cracks in windows, putting the flickering stars that studded the Faceless' hide to shame.

Galus thought for a moment that the whole being would simply shatter into great chunks of darkness, torn apart by the plasma beam. Instead, the pistol's mark faded as the Faceless rushed Galus before he had time to reload and fire again.
The branding left by the plasma pistol made a layer of darkness shed off the Faceless like a sloughed-off skin that immediately dissolved into something less than dust.

Galus fell to the ground, the Faceless' black form swirling round his ankle in a vicegrip. Some distant part of it thought with satisfaction as the void rushed to welcome Galus,
this is it.

Nothing happened. Galus tolerated being strung by his feet for only a few seconds before extricating his plasma rifle and charging it up. Vyrm'n dropped the pilot and scarpered before it blasted a hole straight through the funhouse where the Faceless had previously stood.

"If you're going to dignify that magician with a proper fight, Faceless, show me the same respect." Galus' voice crackled over his speaker, his helmet was still sealed. Glancing up and down the Urisian with some confusion, Vyrm'n realised dully: The suit prevented contact with the Faceless; halting the destructive presence of the void. With a snarl-invoking tremble, Vyrm'n darted at Galus, trying to knock him down so the Faceless could beat his brains in. The pilot judged the Faceless' leap, though, and rolled under it and leapt down the hole in the spore room floor, avoiding injury by landing upon the fungus-covered boards below. Loading the rifle again, Galus took a step back, prepared to loose a shot at the next thing which emerged from the black room above.

Vyrm'n slid through the hole it had made earlier in the next room, and rushed Galus from behind, this time knocking him off his feet and sending his rifle skittering across the floor. It kept the pilot pinned to the floor as it crawled its way up his legs, Galus kicking and struggling valiantly to unsheath his knife and dislodge the Faceless. Its progress was slower as it was attempting to find a way into the suit to make a quick, clean, kill, but failing that Vyrm'n could cut to the chase and just dash the Urisian's head across the floor.

Sruixan · 10-14-2009, 11:39 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

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The marionette was a rather unusual fellow - strangely humanoid, maybe eeirely so - completely bare and unmarked, bar the splodges of paint that encompassed the entire spectrum, randomly painted by drips and collisions over... how long? Did it matter? What mattered was the fact that it was moving of its own accord - a little tame compared to some of the other surrealities of this contest, but one that had interesting tangents to consider...

From a distance, Maxwell played Observer - the erratic foxtrot the puppet danced was seemingly aimless, and the hinderance of its strange cargo was another puzzle in itself. But it was still movement and that was the interesting bit. Was it sentient, or was it being controlled? Sentience meant someone had made it sentient; control meant someone was controlling it. The Observer was looking a likely candidate, but...

...was it looking at him? It had no eyes, right? But was it looking at...

Everything here was rigged to kill, or at least maim; the rides, the food, the toilets; so why not the puppets? Considering it as a danger was not a bad idea. Running away, on the other hand, probably was. Disabling it could provide fleeting glimpses into how it had worked, and that could likely lead to...

Yes, yes it was staring at him. That red blotch there... and that white one over there... those could pass for eyes. It knew he was there. That's why it had now changed direction, lumbering and lurching towards him, somewhat comedic but nethertheless considerably concerning.

A hand fumbled for the rapier. This could be... interesting...

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**Schazer** · 10-14-2009, 11:57 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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GBCE · 10-15-2009, 01:18 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The Sunset was at a full on sprint by this point. He had lept down from the tower he was perched upon and immediately began slamming his powerful hydraulic legs into the pavement of the hellish carnival, and began propelling himself forward with great speed. He gained momentum quickly and began using his strength not to speed himself up, but keep himself steady. He had heard the call of battle, and decided that approaching the survivors would be helpful to his cause. He barreled for the hall of mirrors, and kept himself steadily headed towards it.

The sucking and clinging of the Faceless to Galus was fairly silent apart from a few dull thumps as the two struggled with one another. Carnival music punctuated the stillness, as did the sound of fighting elsewhere in the building. Other than that, the scene was remarkably still. Cold, quiet murder was taking place. Steadily, as the thumps of Galus grew, so did the sound of something swift and metallic, until it was near enough to be quite audible.

Outside, The Sunset shifted its weight forward and jumped, elbow extended. He would soon collide.

The wall of the building burst out as he collided with it, smashing and exploding into the inside from the force with which it had been struck. He landed on three legs- his two feet and an extended hand to steady himself. Seeing the Faceless in action, he leapt over to the sinuous being.

A massive metallic hand overlaid with darkness extended, slamming into Vyrm'n and- surprisingly- gripping the beast.

A hydraulic groan and creak was heard through the room as the Faceless was slowly pried from Galus, an inescapable grip hauling against an immobile entity of darkness.

"FACELESS YOU WILL ANSWER OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED. WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE."

The Faceless had but a few moments before it was pried off or the Balancer lost his temper. But The Sunset was expecting resistance, and was ready to meet resistance. The ball was entirely in the shifting entities' park. It was a pity. The Balancer didn't want to destroy something so much like himself.

**Schazer** · 10-15-2009, 02:30 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

reserved

**Schazer** · 10-15-2009, 03:02 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

As the Sunset clutched the black mass with its metallic digits, all it heard was a ceaseless screaming in his ears pounding from the Faceless as it thrashed and tried to free itself from the Sunset's grip. Nonetheless, the Balancer repeated its command, hoping the mad creature heard it.
Failing to escape, Vyrm'n attempted to crawl up the Sunset's arm, but found a powerful repulsive force across the suit which prevented its black form from sliding across it. The obvious exception to this was The Balancer's palm, which adhered to the dark surface without fail.

The Balancer, still waiting for a response, began to warm up the Nightmare. In the haze of madness, Vyrm'n heard the hum and all the fight went out of it, the Faceless sliding off Galus who immediately darted into a corner, rifle charged and pointing at the Faceless; though he kept glancing nervously at the Balancer, lest it was trying to kill all of them.

Vyrm'n lay in a fluid pile which was topped by the Sunset's indomitable grip. The Faceless quivered unceasingly as if in constant pain, consciousness flickering about the room like the gaze of a cornered, frightened animal. Despite its long-departed logical reasoning, the Faceless knew it was in deepest shit. It was the target of two foes who could not easily be subjected to the void; and while the uncaring endlessness still swelled and filled its black heart Vyrm'n was incapable of communicating with anyone.

In a move that was pure instinct, no longer dictated by rational thought, Vyrm'n sent a flicker of thought up to the Sunset's mind. It screamed of pain; not a wish for it upon the Balancer but a simple wish for it to stop altogether. The Balancer considered this, wondering whether it would simply be easier to blast the Faceless out of existence now and be done with it. Yet its resemblance to the Balancer of old was uncanny, other than this animalistic instinct...

"GALUS LEE MATTHEWS, YOU WILL LOWER YOUR WEAPON IMMEDIATELY." Galus bit his lip; hearing the increased hum from the Sunset's weapon he reluctantly discharged the shot harmlessly into the ground, but did not put it away and remained standing warily by the door. The Faceless still shook at the Sunset's feet; unable to execute its only plan of violent destruction, it had to be content with staying where it was.

The Sunset would not repeat its command. Lowering the Nightmare to a region approximating the black beast's head, it held it several inches away from the black surface for a moment, giving Vyrm'n one last chance to explain.
The Faceless was still an eternity away when the Balancer pressed the Nightmare, the murderous extension of its cleansing spirit, upon the inky flesh.

~~~

In the Sunset's mind, hell suddenly broke loose. As its existence caught wind of the eternal emptiness consuming the Facelss and began to fade into insignificance at the sight of it; something rushed at the Balancer's being screaming and trying to explain everything at once.
Vyrm'n's scorched and tortured soul had had enough of suffering within its present shell, and fled to the Balancer's, mercifully dragging the entity away from the void.
Within the metal suit, a silent struggle took place as the Sunset attempted to drive away the torrent of consciousness that flooded its mind. The Faceless' mind put up no resistance other than being there, surrounding the Balancer from all around with its cries of agony.

"GET OUT." The suit bellowed the words to the room, where only Galus (and several boxes which were an approaching Gestalt) heard them, wondering who the Balancer was talking to. "GET OUT OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED."

Though the Nightmare had not shifted from its contact with Vyrm'n, Galus took the hint and fled. Gestalt made itslef inconspicuous as the pilot ran by, waiting to exact its promise at a time which was less likely to result in its own death.

Within the Balancer's mind, the same words roared, but with little effect. Vyrm'n simply fled to a corner of the Sunset's mind, trying to make itself as small as possible (but failing miserably). The Sunset roared at Vyrm'n, for all the world to hear:

"YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE. GET OUT IMMEDIATELY."

Vyrm'n, now independent from the soul-scattering emptiness, was capable of replying lucidly but weakly, My apologies, this was the only way I could communicate- before the Sunset repeated, "GET OUT." Desperation surging into its voice, Vyrm'n added, I beg you- before the Sunset surged at the black spirit with an intent to destroy.

In its own mind, the Sunset was as capable of being as flowing and sinuous as the Faceless. The two entities clashed within the armour, wrestling furiously for some time until, finally, the Sunset succeeded in forcibly hurling out Vyrm'n into its own body again.

~~~

Vyrm'n suffered severe astral disorientation as its consciousness was restored to its rightful place, but the out-of-body experience had done it good: It only took it several moments of control to reassert sentience's dominance over the infinite void and become capable of conscious thought again.

The first thing it noticed was the burn of the Nightmare on its dark countenance; as surreptitiously as possible it slid away enough that the contact had been terminated, though it made no struggle against the Sunset's grasp above.

Thank you, Balancer. Now we may talk.

The Balancer, again, considered for a moment releasing the trigger and killing this creature who had invaded its mind as a base instinct. Instinct. Now the creature seemed thoroughly courteous. Wondering if it was making the right choice, the Sunset boomed, "I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN FACELESS. WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE."

If the shadow was capable of posturing submissively, it would've. As it was; Vyrm'n consented with making its mental voice sound as respectful and inoffensive as possible.

I... hate this world, Balancer. Its chaotic structure brings constant pain to my very soul. I tried to kill one of our number merely as a swift means to leave this world, but his traps hampered me. I- it terminated the link with a yelp of pain as the Nightmare was butted against it to punctuate the Sunset's next question.

"YOU ARE THE ONE CAUSING THE MOST PAIN AND DESTRUCTION, FACELESS. EXPLAIN WHY IT WOULD NOT BE EASIER FOR ME TO END THIS ROUND BY REMOVING YOU HERE AND NOW."

Because I - I can help you kill the Karmist. Awaiting another burn from the Nightmare but not receiving it, Vyrm'n continued pleadingly, You cannot kill him, yet you wish him dead. He and I both take life by our nature, granted, but- another involuntary spasm of pain from the Faceless -but, I am the force which he wishes to wield and subjugate as his own. I was never designed to desire power or wealth or anything in infinity; the void is merely my nature. I-

"SILENCE. DO NOT STEAL MY WORDS FROM ME, FACELESS." The hand gripped a little tighter, the gun shoved into the depths of darkness before the Faceless could respond or shy away. "YOU SAY YOU ARE A FORCE THE KARMIST MAY WIELD. IF THAT IS THE CASE-" *click* "-THEN BY YOUR RATIONALE-" *the whine of some sort of ignition kicking in* "-YOU HAVE BEST BE ELIMINATED, LIKE THE GUARDIAN ORBS."

YOUR TIME! Vyrm'n shrieked, though only the Sunset heard it. It paused, though detonation was only a twitch away. Assuming the Faceless had picked up on some of the Sunset's thoughts, it seemed inevitable it had seen the timer. Unsurprising, considering its value constantly ran through the Balancer's mind. When it looked at it, it couldn't believe it.

Somehow, against all logic, the timer had gained another year and a half. The glowing coilgun emerged, still glowing, from the Faceless. "EXPLAIN."

I do not know, admitted Vyrm'n, and the Sunset had to believe the Faceless. To deliberately hide the truth at a point like this was beyond idiotic. All I can offer is... life can only stare into my piece of the void for so long before its insignificance to it becomes clear and it fades into nothingness. For some reason I cannot explain, the opposite happened to you. Uttering in a voice as calm and reasonable as it was capable, Vyrm'n added, I have already assisted you to some extent in defeating the Karmist. Would - would you please release me?

The Sunset considered demanding the Faceless reopen the void to possibly further its own life, but Vyrm'n's own confusion on the matter halted it. Consenting to the Faceless' request, the Balancer released its grip. Vyrm'n wasted no time slithering out of the way and reforming into a black pillar by the pile of boxes which now formed a ring formation around the dark shape.

Dragon Fogel · 10-15-2009, 03:48 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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SleepingOrange · 10-15-2009, 04:31 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

The marionette cavorted as smoothly and naturally as someone made of wood and only in possession of thirteen joints could. It skipped jovially back and forth in front of the fencer, whose sword was held cautiously; not raised, but ready to fly up in a moment. The puppet waved, its ersatz eyes staring emptily at Maxwell, then turned away and began to dance towards the funhouse. It beckoned over its shoulder; Maxwell goggled, then followed.

-

The schrotgolem surrounded the quivering mass of darkness that could tenuously be called Vyrm'n. Someone with a perception for such things and without a mind driven to distraction would have been able to tell that some force was carefully removing every trace of matter from the Faceless's surface and the outer regions of its bulk. Spores and splinters were teased out with surgical precision, and the detritus still floating through the air detoured around Vyrm'n. One small particle of dust, however, alighted on the top of the column, and a now-familiar mental voice drifted into Vyrm'n's consciousness.

I have tagged your quarry, and I suspect I will be more than able to stop this being from attacking us should it become necessary; indeed, this one is likely the one that poses me in particular the least threat. Your old friend the fencer will be here shortly, for better or worse, and the pilot and the magician are both still nearby. I leave what happens next to you.

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Robust Laser · 10-15-2009, 04:40 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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GBCE · 10-15-2009, 10:59 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

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Sruixan · 10-15-2009, 12:40 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.

A mind like Maxwell's was almost always open, for better or worse; anything that could provide some amusement was worth a once-over, maybe a twice or even a thrice-over. This marionette was currently taking centre stage (and doing a rather passable jive on it as well), the simplexity of it standing out big time, even against the decadent dazzle of the fairground.

As the funhouse loomed ever closer, Maxwell let his mind wander to the curious matter of the marionette's movement. It wouldn't be too tricky to stick some electronics into those ballons, pass the wires up through the strings, and stick some robotics into the doll itself, assuming it to be hollow... though that didn't explain the handle and besides, why so rational? If a couple of boxes can move inanimate objects to a whim... erm...

Were the doll truely sentient, it might have noticed at that point the sudden disappearance of its convoy. But it didn't. Fair enough. Besides, Maxwell hadn't exactly vanished. He was just taking the scenic route.

GBCE · 10-16-2009, 12:19 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The Sunset hmmed to himself and let his gun fall to his side, considering what had been said by the Faceless. Seeing the meter on his chest increase, even by a fraction? It was completely unheard of. There was nothing in the universe that should've been able to accomplish that, but somehow this shapeless, sentient void was able to empower him. Add precious years onto his lifespan.

As much as this gave The Sunset a small amount of hope, it also infuriated him. His life as of late had been the plaything of the other contestants. They were removing it from him, giving it back, and tossing it about like a yo-yo without any ill effect. The irony was not lost on the purple consciousness. That something as basely powerful and indomitable as a Balancer could be turned into the toy of other beings. This Observer. The Karmist. The Faceless. Never had he felt so unable to control his own existence.

But perhaps there was hope with this shifting entity, this Vyrm'n. It was an entity born from the void, like him, that sought not the continued growth of its own power. It was sinuous and deft and powerful. It lacked the natural force the Balancers contained within themselves, that unique tie to the universe that turned them into living batteries and solar panels (at least until old age), sliding beasts of epic proportion. But the framework was all there, if changed up. It made the Balancer wonder whether they were both birthed from similar circumstances.

He thought back to all those years ago when he was a Balancer, parading around Osellus Kappa. Sending himself rocketing through the universe, shape changing and swirling at lightning paces, glow from his body illuminating and terrifying his prey. Ending so many lives, so deftly and so efficiently. He was so old now. So slow. Still powerful, but not half the being he was once. He used to be an integral part of the universe. Now he wasn't even in that world proper.

Either way, he had a job to do. Possibly, it would be the most important thing he would ever accomplish.

"FACELESS." He boomed.

"I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE IN THE DESTRUCTION OF THE KARMIST, AND LATER, THE OBSERVER HIMSELF. I KNOW YOU ARE A BEING OF BALANCE BY NATURE. ASSIST ME IN BRINGING THAT VIRTUE TO THESE MEN BECOME GODS. DENY THIS REQUEST, AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED. SIMPLY CONSIDER THE CONSEQUENCES OF NOT DOING SO."

**Schazer** · 10-16-2009, 02:50 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n simply stood there mutely as it consented to let Gestalt seek out the bellowing impurities from the darkness and siphon them away, out of sight, out of mind. When the golem's task was completed, the Faceless merely replied, thank you. Every single particle of its being said it, and Gestalt acknowledged it.

The Sunset is requesting your assistance, Vyrm'n. I suggest you listen.

The Faceless refocussed on what the Sunset was saying. Now that it was in a much better state of mind, free of the taint of erroneous matter, it was able to much better consider the Balancer's words.
To be truthful, Vyrm'n had been simply been borrowing words from the Balancer's mind in its desperate bid for survival. Although it knew the Karmist was a formidable foe; its true present, and only, motivation for action was to depart in one piece from this world, into the (hopefully mercifully simpler) next.
To the Faceless, Samuel was a lesser consideration. Still, it was starting to get rather tied down with all of its obligations. It still had its vow to make sure Maxwell survived this; anybody else was peripheral to this goal. The Faceless decided to seek out Gestalt's counsel. Do we help him?

We? Our alliance is for the purposes of mutually assuring the other's survival, and for me to assist you in eliminating the conjurer. My only goals are survival, and discovery. As fascinating as it would be to observe a fight between two beings whose power is obviously highly disparate, I fear that act of discovery would jeopardise the execution of my other goal.

Oh. The Faceless processed that. So that would be a no for fighting the Observer?

Unequivocally. Gestalt seemed to be tossing up saying something else, then spat it out. I would recommend, if you are interested in your own survival, Vyrm'n, that you would be in accordance with me.

Very well, replied the Faceless. After a pause, how about Samuel?

If the schrotgolem was getting irritated by Vyrm'n's lack of initiative, it did a good job of hiding it.
Between the two of us, Gestalt mused, I believe - I believe we are doing reasonably well at stymieing his attempts at procuring power. As long as we keep him distanced from death, his powers are limited, correct? Vyrm'n agreed. Then, again, there is no need to engage in a deliberate attack. We may be sympathetic to the Sunset's goals, but we will not lay our lives on the line for them. Gestalt immediately amended that as Vyrm'n's consciousness conjured up the pair of them on some sort of void-breaching tightrope-That is to say, we are not willing to risk our lives in fighting him actively.

Vyrm'n seemed satisfied with that, and requested the schrotgolem pass the Balancer a string bracelet; which wrapped around one of the iron fingers and made contact with the super-gripping palm, before tying itself into a ring with invisible hands which went over and under and through.

With some audibility issues, Vyrm'n answered the Sunset through Gestalt, so the golem could hear:
We will not risk our lives to take down your foes, though we will support you in other matters. My ally Maxwell may provide an explanation as to how I am able to prolong your life; and Gestalt and myself seem well capable of causing Samuel plenty of grief.

The Sunset seethed within with frustration; it wanted nothing more than for Vyrm'n to join its cause, and thought the golem must have swayed Vyrm'n's opinion. As the ally of its potential ally, though, the Balancer could do little about Gestalt. Still, the genius being able to unlock the mystery of the Faceless' void; and prolonging the Sunset's life enough to hopefully defeat Samuel, at least, was some consolation.

The Sunset declared, "VERY WELL. I HOPE YOU RECONSIDER AT A LATER DATE," as the Faceless brushed off Gestalt's link and reached out directly for a one-on-one with the Balancer. He raised his gun a little as the dark hand stretched out, but let it rest upon the mess of coils and purple which was the core of the Sunset. Its voice flowed through the suit again; cool, but with no trace of that desolate emptiness which held in it somewhere the promise of new life for the Balancer.

Sunset the Balancer, I... do not understand whyâ€¦ your song alone, sings ever more stridently, in sight of the void. I thought I heard from youâ€¦ but perhaps I was wrongâ€¦ a homecoming. An ancestral cry. The hand slipped away, one finger remaining gently to let one last thought slip through, before it too receded into the dark. A smile accompanied it.
Perhaps I misheard that, but, regardlessâ€¦ I hear me singing for your victory. This, my kin, I cannot mishear.

Vyrm'n then gathered up the repacking boxes and their contents, encasing them in darkness, before sliding fluidly through the hole in the floor and landing below safely with its contents. The Sunset watched through a blast-induced window as the boxes extricated themselves from the darkness and the two beings exited the funhouse, heading for Cabaret.

GBCE · 10-16-2009, 03:05 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Opirian.

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Robust Laser · 10-16-2009, 04:25 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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GBCE · 10-16-2009, 07:04 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by snoomanwaff.

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Cabaret hared past a water tank game filled with insects for some reason and towards the ferris wheel, it'd probably be a good place for a last stand if Vyrm'n caught up with him, and something pulled his ankle causing him to trip and almost crack his jaw on a ring toss stand. Standing up he tried to move his leg forwards but something held it back, cursing under his breath he took a right and went on a more round about route back to the funhouse.

**btp** · 10-16-2009, 08:05 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

Earlier...Elsewhere in the park...

"No..I can't...not another...Surely, this is enough?"

You know that this is not enough. Finish the deed, Samuel.

The Karmist's body trembled. He sat on his legs, slumped over, too weak to stand. In his lap lay the limp corpse of a rat drenched in sweat and bile. Samuel's hands shook uncontrollably. He could not bring himself to look upon the dead animal again. Reluctantly, fearfully, the Karmist stretched his arm out towards a dark corner of the room. He bit his lip, hoping, wishing that what he knew was there was not actually there. Emerging from the darkness, another rat, large and flea ridden, hissed at the Karmist as it made its way toward the outstretched hand. Samuel's face turned a pale white. His body was limp, his suit stained with blood and filth.

"Run," Samuel pleaded weakly, "Get out of here. Leave me be."

The rat paid his words no heed and continued its dull march towards the Karmist's trembling hand. Once the beast stood in range of the quivering fingers, the hand grasped the rat by the neck and Samuel clutched the creature against his chest.

A quick helpless whisper escaped the pale face of the Karmist, "no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no." Samuel could feel the warm pulse of the creature within his grip. "I can't...not again, i can't, i can't, i can't, i can't."

Do it.

The neck snapped. An agonizing tremor rippled through the Karmist, as if his body was the one torn apart. Samuel gazed upon the body of the creature, warm but lifeless, and all the muscles in the Karmist's body grew tense. His stomach clenched and churned, and with a involuntary heave, a sickly mix of blood and bile poured from the Karmist's mouth. His body burned. The smell was unbearable. Samuel tossed away the corpse of the rat. It landed haphazardly against the corpse of a raven. Scattered about the Karmist, twenty-seven broken bodies of rats, ravens, and grackles littered the ground. Samuel stared at his trembling hands, covered his face, and began to weep.

Yes...That will be enough.

-------

Later...Elsewhere in the park...

Samuel Therion exited the women's restroom. It was an unpleasant site, but the sink there did not contain whatever ungodly substance flooded the one in the mens room. Samuel had managed to wash his hands and rid his suit of most of the horrid smell, though stains remained. Out of the corner of his eye, Samuel spotted a carton of plastic forks dragging behind a loudspeaker covered in strings of confetti. The Karmist sneered.
"What is it you want, schrotgolem?"

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**Schazer** · 10-16-2009, 11:15 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n and the schrotgolem were cheerfully bickering over how best to dispatch Cabaret. Whereas Vyrm'n's mind was starting to wander again upon its return to the chaotic matterscape, making the Faceless keen to simply attack the conjurer head on; Gestalt was imploring the shadow employed some form of tact or caution or even, god forbid, formulate a plan beforehand.

While the golem was formulating a fourth counterargument against the Faceless' plan to run at Cabaret and hopefully surprise him and swallow him up (a notable reason why there are no recorded Faceless orators or debaters would be because as well as being stubborn, they are very poor debators), it paused, finishing distractedly to Vyrm'n:

I have another call. Please wait.

Vyrm'n looked confused. Does that mean I can go hunt down Cabaret-

If you do not get killed doing it, certainly. Gestalt dismissed the Faceless by removing the pebble that had been sitting atop Vyrm'n.

Confused, and trying to figure out what other emotion was trying to register (it was the sensation of feeling thoroughly put out) Vyrm'n sloped off to the Ferris Wheel; the only huge ride it hadn't had a good look at yet.

GBCE · 10-17-2009, 05:23 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Opirian.

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Galus hurried along, down one of the many maze-like paths of this 'amusement park' thoughts kept flashing through his head of his encounter with the faceless. Damn that thing is nothing like Luna, he thought to him self while he tried to find somewhere to recuperate. He slowed down to a walk before the adrenaline in his system decided to stop dulling the pain he had been holding back, falling over on the ground in a crumpled heap as it all rushed back to him. Heh, this is uncomfortable, what a silly thing to think of at this moment, he rolled over and begun to stare at the sky, the sky of a world that seemed to ignore the normal flow of time, or so it appeared at first.

The sky began to darken at a rapid rate going from the bright blue of mid afternoon, to the pitch black of a moonless night. Clouds began to roll in out of nowhere covering the sky in a further impenetrable veil of darkness as they began to let down a harsh rain. The lights of the park flickered on and begun to give the grounds a brightly lit, multicolored, festival glow. Then he heard it again, more voices coming from no where the sound of what were most likely happy couples or perverts just trying to get that one night stand.

Galus picked himself up as best he could, the rain beating down on his helmet, feeling like thousands of needles through his suit. This place is hell, a redundant thought went through his head as he peered over at the most overlooked ride of the day, the Tunnel of Love, or as the park called it 'Tunnel of Destruction.' Picking up his feet he began to walk thinking that it would be a good location for a temporary rest, or so he thought as his legs began to carry him in the opposite direction towards the ferris wheel. The spokes lit up, each one a different color, as animations danced along the large surface that begun to spin of its own accord, the couples must be going there.

**Schazer** · 10-17-2009, 09:08 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Vyrm'n meandered up a walkway towards the looming shadow cast by the ferris wheel across various little stalls and sideshows. As the sky darkened and the rain suddenly began to beat down, The Faceless' form sagged a little, like it was melting with dissatisfaction. It slipped beneath the shelter of a laughing-clowns game, carefully avoiding the heads after it noticed several had teeth, and the balls you were supposed to drop in the mouths looked engrimed with a very suspect red.

The Faceless gloomily huddled in the little stall, feeling thoroughly sorry for itself. The rain was about as unwelcome as unwelcome matter got; though the Faceless would retain water about as well as a rubber ball, the way it bounced and splashed and ran all over the dark surface was too much for Vyrm'n.
It was like... headlice, but for a being devoid of hair or a head or parasites.

Galus walked by, head still full of the murmurs of parkgoers past. Vyrm'n, on the other hand, had stopped listening to anysound much; once the patter and splatter and plink and splash of the rain kicked in. Galus started when he spotted the hulking shadow, hunched in the tiny stall. A hand automatically went to his weapon, but the Faceless made no response.

"What on Ceres are you doing under there, Faceless?"

Vyrm'n didn't even want to get a single arm in that wet stuff. It was content to scribble in the dirt again.

I HATE THE RAIN

Galus chuckled a little at that. This indomitable, ageless being was scared of getting wet? His hand didn't stray from the gun though. The Urisian decided to take a gamble. "Have you... ever met another Faceless?"

The shadow's scripted reply was almost textbook-perfect.
<span style="font-family: Bradley Hand ITC">THE APPEARANCE OF FACELESS IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE IS EXCEEDINGLY RARE AND NO OBSERVATIONS HAVE EVER BEEN MADE OF 'TYPED OR WILDFORM FACELESS INTERACTING

Galus read that with puzzlement. "Hang on... you're a... 'typed Faceless, right?" Vyrm'n jabbed the word with its finger in accordance. "And that means... what the hell did that professor say... You swapped memories with a sentient host, right?" Vyrm'n formed the eyeless face of what must have been its host, and nodded. "Then... do you remember who they were?"

Vyrm'n seemed to be struggling to put the words together; its textbook knowledge and actual experience were coming into conflict. Eventually, the words emerged, though less lucid:

FACELESS ACQUIRE THE FULL AND COMPLETE CONTENTS OF THE MIND OF THEIR HOST, DICTATED BY THEIR FIRST CONTACT WITH SENTIENCE
ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE INDICATES THAT FACELESS HAVE NO MEMORY OF THEIR EXISTENCE PRIOR TO 'TYPING
SOME SUGGEST THE HOST IN TURN ACQUIRES THE FULL MINDSET OF THE FACELESS BUT IT IS UNCERTAIN AS THEY EXPIRE SOON AFTER

"Like... Jack..." Galus murmured to himself. He glanced up at the Faceless again. "If that's the case, how do you understand all this?"

The shadow's more personal voice reappeared as it engaged in some serious metacognition.MY HOST WAS PRE-IMPLANTED WITH THE FULL AND COMBINED KNOWLEDGE PERTAINING TO FACELESS DISCOVERED BY SENTIENT BEINGS IN HER UNIVERSE
ACCORDING TO THE MAN I WAS THE FIRST KNOWN EVER TO UNDERSTAND MY OWN BEING TO THIS EXTENT
IT IS WHAT ALLOWS ME TO BRING ABOUT ABILITIES OF MYSELF A MORTAL COULD NEVER IMAGINE OR FATHOM EXIST WITHIN

"Like the void..."

AND MY FLIGHT-FORM SUCH A SHAPE I HAVE BEEN TOLD IS IMPRACTICAL TO YOUR MINDS FOR FLIGHT YET IT SERVES ME WELL.

"That's not necessarily because of your self-awareness, though, Vyrm'n. Luna shifted her shape through air... even saved my life at one point. In fact-" Galus froze midsentence. The Faceless had suddenly halved the distance between them without untoward sound or sight. His hand tightened round the handle of his knife as a black hand reached out and padded furiously all over the pilot for a point of contact.

Galus pulled out his knife with a snarl, jabbing it towards the Faceless. Instead of attacking, it slid back into the dry shelter of the booth, sliding over half of the words it had written earlier. Beneath this smudged mess, it tilled from the earth with a messiness brought about by high emotion:

WHO IS LUNA</span>

**btp** · 10-17-2009, 04:12 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

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DairyDiary of Professor Armidillo Reccxer the Former<font size="4">The Magnificent-Magician Cabaret

Well Hello there! You certainly are in luck! You've chanced upon the not-presently-but-soon-to-be-highly-sought-after writings of the once Famed Magician and Conjurer Cabaret! :3

Of course I have never really cared for writing, but it had started raining so terribly that I attempted so summon an umbrella - I am an impeccable summoner you see - and this very book appeared in my hands! It seemed to have been used previously, but I figure whoever used it is probably long gone by now, and there's no point in wasting a good book I say. After several failed attempts valiant efforts at summoning a pen or a pencil I managed to pull a vial of ink out. I saw a small raven on the ground that broke its neck, dumb bird, so I plucked out a couple of feathers and started to write. I'm currently headed to the </font>[background=black:2lwf5k3k]BUTTBUTTBUTT[/background:2lwf5k3k]. Ack! Ink is dripping in splotches it seems. Oh well.

So! A huge beast attempted to attack me recently! I managed to fend it off with a series of clever traps. Nothing is too difficult for me it seems. True it got a little hairy in there, but all in all the beast had no chance at besting me. You're probably wondering what type of creature I'm talking about! Well it was a black thing a creepy inky very frightening I'm not sure how to describe to so here, I'll draw you a picture!

[Image: cabaretNote.jpg]

Oh the one on the right is me! I'm wearing my super awesome magical mask! It's what gives me my awesome abilities! Well I'd best be off! I shall write to you again soon if I get a chance!
--- [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img] [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img] Cabaret the Great ;3

GBCE · 10-17-2009, 04:38 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The rain was quite soothing to the Balancer, even if the most he could feel of it was the cold liquid running over his coils and tendrils. The rain always presented a sort of clarity to him, a kind of natural purity that left everything after its fall pure and refreshed. Everything under the glare of light and water was left gleaming and sparkling, pepper-polished and beautiful. It was times like these that The Sunset could really relax, even in a hellish place like this.

He sat down on a bench and remained seated, relaxing himself against the sturdy wood, letting himself become metal coated with rain for a little while. Blending with nature, even an impure nature, was a relief to the being.

He considered what had been said to him by the Faceless. That its purpose was not served well by aiding him. It was frustrating, to be sure. Vyrm'n simply does not understand that Samuel's continued existence threatens everyone here.

But for now those thoughts were pushed away, and he relaxed. Breathing as deeply as the bound Balancer still could, it thought back to years before.

-------------

The year was irrelevant, and all The Sunset knew was the thrill of the hunt.

Not bound to a suit, not bound to a perpetual death, the Balancer was young and powerful and surging with the combined coils of a thousand celestial batteries. He flickered and darted through the atmosphere of a green-purple world, his black, sinuous body untethered and free. Limbs reshaped themselves and flowed across one another like liquid metal, purple cores and vast amounts of energy swirling in with it like a kind of sentient force of nature.

He skipped at hundreds of miles an hour, parts of him seeming to dash off and blend with the wind as he ran, no, flew across the planet's terrain. Nothing was free of his gaze. And nothing would stop him from reaching his target.

Eventually he would come upon a large city, spaceworthy vehicles flying about massive skyscrapers. He descended into this place and made a lookout through the neon glow for his contact, a Cylaxian man of rather high descent who found a lucrative business assisting Balancers. Shifting his form in and out of traffic, he found a massive pipe after a few minutes of looking, dripping with water and free of the public eye. He slammed his form inside, and then paused on the watery trail, standing up.

He was massive. Eight feet tall and constantly swirling, four purple globes swirling through the semi-liquid 'head' atop his torso. Arms shaped like massive, shifting scythes constantly reshaped into various dark appendages. Legs like windswept dunes of iron, and a constant, shifting, purple pulse emanating from his being. His contact was at the far end of the tunnel, and approached, a thin grin spreading across two sets of orange lips, the skattering and clacking of eight carapaced legs masked dully by his trenchcoat.

"I see you've arrived, Sunset. I came as soon as I heard you'd be planetward. What is it that you require?" Spoke the Cylaxian, in a voice overlaid with crackling and scissoring coming from within his insect-like form.

"I seek knowledge of a woman known as the Mechanic. She has been gathering power, I do not know from where, and is becoming a danger to the natural balance of power on this world."

His voice was not, at this time, the booming and echoic thing it was in its ancient years. It was young, cocky, and full of vigor, slathering those who heard it in a kind of steel envelope.

"You're right to suspect this, Balancer. The Mechanic, as you called her, is a woman named Myradella Slitherhorn. Her trade is that of military grade power armor, and lately, from my sources, I've heard she's hit on a big one. Some new power source that she says is going to make her armor infinitely better than competitors. Rumor has it that she's got a new prototype all to herself, and that she plans on giving it a, ah, test run."

The Sunset raised a brow and chuckled. "A new power source, hm? Do tell. It's likely something I've heard of before. What is it? Voidal warping? Nuclear fission? Super-solar? Don't tell me it's one of those damn-"

The Cylaxian interrupted. "No, Sunset, I think you'll be genuinely interested this time. She says she's found a way to tap into the very power that your friend The Boundless uses." He grinned.

The Sunset blinked, and was silenced. For a moment, an indomitable being seemed very emasculated indeed.

"The Boundless? That's impossible! The old man is a harvester of souls, not energy!" He seemed genuinely worried about this accusation, and was a tinge upset this black market man would even suggest such a thing.

"But she has. She says that the force he wields with such deftness can be done clumsily using her own power and the power of this machine. She calls it Ceron. Some just call it Karma, as its what, well, most of the people she's testing this thing on had it coming."

-----------

The Sunset remained totally silent, sitting rain slathered on the park bench. His inner thoughts were unreadable.

Robust Laser · 10-17-2009, 05:13 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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