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**Pinary** · 07-01-2010, 04:55 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

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GBCE · 07-02-2010, 12:50 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by McBatman.

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Woffles · 07-06-2010, 12:39 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

Michelle, back on the physical plane, collapsed. She was crushed and exhausted, and the torments of the dead, in more ways than one, stormed through her mind.
"Now, my dear, I'm going to lend your lean body a bit. I'm sure you wouldn't mind." It took little effort to control Michelle's body. She quickly was hopping around the city in the sky from tower to collapsing tower. She quickly arrived at her destination.
Spender's orchestra of destruction rumbled onwards, dragging anything in its path into nonexistance. The robotic population in the city wasn't too happy with that, but after a quick shield coin or wall coin, he didn't have to pay them anymore heed. One couldn't really tell what went on inside Spender, and even less so call that emotion by a name. It has bits of everything. Rage, desperation, willpower, and even a hint of enjoyment. That maelstrom of feelings whisked up his mind, and combining that with hiss lack of focus from all those activated spellcoins, it wasn't a surprise he was startled when a runner came to a halt behind him.
"Spender, what the hell are you doing? I arrived in this world, did a bit of scheming, and before you know it, BAM! A tower the size of the entire colloseum we came from crashes down near me!"
"I'm trying to create a distortion. This world is a fake, Michelle. I want to unmask it."
"You mean it's a copy or something?"
"Exactly. By dealing enough blows to what we see, I can try to uncover what lies beneath. This is a nightmare's territory, something strong, much stronger than any of us resides here."
Michelle - and by that, Asteira - was silent for a moment, coming to understand his plan. "Let me help. I just need those fancy coins of yours and I can also go around breaking things. If you think this is the way to save us all, then go ahead. I'll try to help aswell. I just want to leave."
Spender smiled. It always gave a man solace to see a sane person hold on in this crazy world. "I'll see what I can do."

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**Pinary** · 07-07-2010, 07:48 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

By the time Walt started to come to, Greg's emotions were back under control. He sat, stiff-backed and plain-faced, in the Captain's chair, staring out the window at the driving rain.

Walt sat up and looked at him. He kept silent, not pushing or expectant, just ready.

After a minute, Greg spoke, his voice barely more than a pained whisper. "I did what I had to do."

Walt didn't reply.

"We needed to overcome her emotional manipulations, so I overpowered them."

More silence.

"She wouldn't have listened to reason, so I did what was necessary."

Walt got slowly to his feet and moved over to him, speaking softly. "And then you kept going."

Greg kept staring forward, his jaw clenching. "It was her manipulations. I wasn't myself."

"She was on the floor, dazed. She wasn't manipulating anyone."

"Dammit, Walt! I don't get angry like that! I'm supposed to be rational and logical, not spiteful and cruel! Where the hell did that come from?!"

Walt stopped next to the chair, staring off into the distance. "We aren't that simple, you know. We're not perfect, clear-cut slices of personality. We all have a certain amount of rationality or communications skills. We each demonstrate our particular aptitudes, but that doesn't mean we have no other traits."

He turned, placing a hand on each of Greg's shoulders and looking him in the eyes. "We're human, Greg, imperfect and flawed. We are complicated and multi-faceted beings, and even though you're 'the logical one,' that doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel."

Greg sniffed, pushed Walt's hands from his shoulders, and stood, moving quickly to his door and going through. Walt looked after him for a moment, then took a seat. Greg would be fine, he knew. He just needed to think things through.

Eric and Bern were still out, so Walt decided to took a look around. The dark clouds were blotting out the sun, and the almost constant flashes of lightning provided a strobing illumination in its place. The whole city reflected the chaos of the storm- the metal surfaces reflected back the lightning, seeming to contribute to the visual chaos. The rain limited visibility, making anything more than a few dozen metres away an indistinct mass of alternating dark and light.

He just watched for a few minutes, taking it all in, admiring its raw, natural power. Eventually, Greg and Eric awoke as well, and Walt turned over control.

Greg took the chair. He couldn't distinguish Spender's beat from the storm, if it was even there, but he knew what needed to be done anyway- the city had to fall so that its existence was not wasted.

He reached up into the storm and gathered the lightning once more.

Spender considered which coins Michelle would be able to make the best use of. Obviously, she didn't have the experience to make use of some of the more powerful ones, but a simple Energy Spear or Flame Burst would work well enough.

He was dispensing a few of each when a column of lightning tore through a group of nearby buildings, sending severed halves tumbling away. Thomas must be back in action, he supposed.

Michelle seemed to think the same thing. "Come on," she urged, "just give me the coins."

Something in her voice made him pause for a moment. She seemed just a bit too eager for them- but then again, the storm around them wasn't exactly calming. It would be perfectly understandable for her to be in a bit of a hurry.

He went back to dispensing coins, slipping a few Analysis Space coins into the stack for good measure.

He barely had time to react to the next sustained bolt as it tore through the next building over, racing towards them at terrible speeds. He dove, grabbing Michelle's waist as he flew into the air, flying out of the building and into open air.

"Take this!", he shouted, his voice almost drowned out by the storm. "It's a flight spell! It'll let you-" He was cut off by another blast of lightning as it tore through a group of nearby buildings. He leaned closer and shouted louder. "It'll let you-"

A severed walkway whipped around and caught him in the small of the back. He lost his grip on Michelle and tumbled through the air. He was sore but unharmed, and he quickly righted himself, spinning around to search for her. His search proved fruitless, however; the wind and rain obscured his vision, and she had already fallen out of range of an Analysis Space.

Michelle fell, the flight coin clutched in her hand. She struggled, trying to move her arm and slide it in the invisible slot, but Asteira held her back. All pretence was abandoned between them; they didn't talk or argue or discuss, they simply pitted their wills against each other, trying to force the coin in one direction or another.

Asteira strained. She may have been able to overcome Michelle through misinformation and deceit, but when it came to pure will to survive, Michelle had the advantage. She'd had to, to survive as long as she had: living in squalor, constantly on alert for the threat of imminent death, never able to truly and completely relax. She'd lived her whole life fighting to survive, and she wasn't going to let go now.

The coin steadily climbed toward the invisible slot, and, in desperation, Asteira changed tactics.

"Michelle." The voice was impossibly clear, somehow managing to come to her through the sound of wind, rain, and thunder.

The coin faltered as Michelle spotted the figure approaching her. It was a man, his face sunken and emaciated. As he came closer, somehow keeping pace with her as she fell, she recognized him.

"L-Leader Johnson? Is that- How are-"

He sighed, sadness underlining his words. "Spirits aren't bound by space, Michelle."

"But- No! We got the medicine, we were bringing it back! You were going to be fine!"

"Not quite- your party was ambushed on the way back, and without you, they didn't stand a chance. The medicine never reached me."

"So you're..."

Solemnly, the figure nodded. "Dead, yes."

"No, I won't believe it! I can't! I-"

Suddenly, the figure vanished. Michelle looked around, confused. "...Leader Johnson?"

The ground met her a moment later.

Asteira looked down, satisfied. She'd have to remember that trick- using one's memories against them could apparently be quite effective.

GBCE · 07-07-2010, 08:08 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.

"No--!"

Spender instinctively started after Michelle, as she was torn away, but one last flash of lightning gave him pause. Below and behind him, one last engine was on the frizt, and that meant the pieces were in place. His meta-analysis proved the point well enough; the fake space was trembling under the assault.

If I can rip it open all in one go, ground and gravity have no meaning. The timing is iffy, though; if anything goes wrong...

He threw everything into his spell--all the accumulated matter and energy in his reactor, all the spells he already had going, and every spellcoin already waiting in his queue, leaving only his normal set of hold-out coins squirreled away across his body. He reached out with his mind and latched onto each and every one of those dying and burning reactors, funneling their instability, their chaos, into one giant funnel of chaos, chaos bent with a single purpose--to rip the world a new one.

Thomas and Glere felt the tremble in space, as would Asteira and Michelle had either been focused on anything but their own intense conflict. When they looked, it was nothing and everything, there floating in the sky, and Spender was all of it, everything, nothing, neither, both.

The whole world trembled, and as he was hoping, it seemed as though for a moment, a new world was being born, one under his own control.

However, Spender was deep in the other analyses he needed. One of his special fields was monitoring the situation to let him know when he was ready to break through, but the others were looking into the incredibly powerful spellwork that maintained, controlled, and secured the Overseer's world against all attack. His original plan was to use not only all that energy, but all of his focus and concentration to pick that lock, slip through the cracks, and be on par with the Overseer.

What with the storm, and Michelle, and doubts, and his general unpreparedness, his concentration slipped. Although his thoughts greedily grabbed at the threads of the Overseer's work, momentarily untangling them, a hidden trigger slipped past his defenses and flattened him.

The chaos nova started to waver, and cracks formed. No longer was he forging a new world, although the world around him continued to break; his mind was flayed and dying, and momentarily, he lost all connection with magic itself, and he was violated, defeated in a way that he had never before experienced.

It should be said that the ATM device which Spender employs is not of his own making. It is an inheritance, from a man beyond all reckoning, and it is a boon beyond all understanding. It is impeccable, it is immortal, it could beget gods. Therefore, it must also be impeccably, immortally, divinely secured.

And if that security should be compromised, the device can never be allowed into anyone's hands.

No matter whose.

No matter why.

No matter the circumstances.

The mental invasion stopped for a moment, the threads woven through Spender's mind stopped dead in their tracks. Even Spender didn't know what it was doing for a moment. Perhaps neither space nor time themselves understood.

But he did understand a moment later. The absence made it perfectly clear--absence of the assaulting threads, but also, absence of that comforting presence in the back of his mind.

He was saved, but his ATM device had self-destructed.

GBCE · 07-08-2010, 03:16 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by McBatman.

Spender descended through the air, the ground and dissolving world around them about to be his new best friend. He crossed his arms in front of his face, expecting an impact that never occurred. His entire body jerked from the sudden tension on his left foot, his left shoulder almost popping out of place, but he dangled safely, several hundred feet above the ground. His head shot back, looking at his unlikely rescuer. A lasso had captured his foot, thrown hastily from a shaking platform buckling under immense strain from several engines suffering, but on the edge stood Glere, grunting as he began to pull Spender back up.
"Glere? What?"
"Don't be so coy, Spender!" Glere shouted, grinning as Spender grimaced at the pun. He grunted as Spender was pulled back upwards to the platform, the ground below them beginning to splinter as white light flooded up from the growing abyss below them.
"One helluva light show, I'll give you that." Glere said, finally pulling the combatant onto the platform with a final tug.
Spender just stared in disbelief. Least of all Glere's rescue, but more at the sudden, and jarring, loss of his spellcoins. Without those... even the nightmare before him could...
He just sat for a few moments, blinking. Before he could finally cough out one question.
"Why?"
Glere shrugged, helping Spender to his feet.
"You're way too much fun to let you die like that! It may not be the best reason, but it's better than meeting terrafirma up close and personal." he peered over the edge, narrowing his eyes a bit.
"Or what's left of it at least. Seems we're all about to play the oblivion tango soon. Oh well, it's been fun." Glere said, pulling out the harpoon gun again and firing another wire line to another, more stable platform.
"You coming or what?"
Spender could barely utter another word before the platform rocked violently, almost sending him off again. Without a word, he jumped to the line as the platform gave way, both he and Glere swinging freely over the vanishing ground beneath them.

**Pinary** · 07-09-2010, 07:39 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

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Woffles · 07-11-2010, 11:00 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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GBCE · 07-11-2010, 10:09 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

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GBCE · 07-11-2010, 11:41 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.

"No, no, no, what. No."

Each contestant, each piece of debris, each tendril of flame slowed to a halt around everyone as an exasperated voice spoke slowly and calmly from everywhere at once. The participants found themselves completely unable to move anything except their eyes, their bodies suspended perfectly in place. They felt their awareness of themselves separate from their bodies and float upwards. They were cognizant of a new place, but unable to tell where they were in relation to it or whether it was even real at all. The area was dominated by several floating mirrors, whose reflections were mostly replaced by scenes from the city they had just left.

The Overseer and Chronicler were present, the former reclined in a computer chair with his feet up on a desk, his head tilted back. He massaged his temple and sighed loudly. The Chronicler looked back and forth from the Overseer to vaguely in the direction in space occupied by the contestants' consciousnesses. "Uh, Bryce? A-are you gonna...?"

"Dammit. What. Look, it's The Overseer in front of..." he waved his hand vaguely in the players' direction.

"Oh. Um. Sorry. Overseer, are you gonna start the new round?" The Chronicler replied. He looked back to the disembodied minds, shot them an apologetic smile, and mouthed out the word "Sorry."

"No, no, whatever," Bryce cleared his throat loudly, stood, and spat on the floor. "I got this, dude."

He snapped his fingers, and the split awareness each of them were experiencing broke. Each of their bodies popped into place right around the space their minds had been occupying, Asteira in particular being ripped from Michelle's lifeless body. They were still unable to move. Their host took a moment to roll his shoulders and pop his neck before he began.

"Okay, so usually I have this thing set up where it like... stops you all and takes you to here when someone dies but I uh..." He trailed off and pursed his lips as if trying to decide how to phrase what he would say next. "I been busy. Forgot to set it up," he finished.

"So. Michelle dead. New arena. You made a real mess of the last one. Uh, good job, I guess." He paused for a moment, then turned to address The Chronicler. "Man, where were they going this time?"

The Chronicler perked up and responded eagerly. "The fortress, remember?" Bryce continued to stare, as if he did not. "You know, the one in that place with the thirteen divines, with the plane of magic and those mage guys who use the stars to-"

"Oh right, right. Sexy nature goddess."

"I, uh, I mean she was but-"

"Right, s'got nothing to do with anything these guys're gonna have to deal with, probably." He turned back to the contestants and gestured to one of the floating mirrors, which approached and blinked to display new scenery. The view flew over a half-finished, imposing stone fortress perched atop a high bluff. "Okay dudes, new arena. Haunted fortress."

The mirror enlarged and dropped down over them as the view in its reflection moved down to ground level. Miles spoke up as the mirror popped out of existence, leaving them all standing in the center of a large circular tower. "I wouldn't...it's not really haunted. Uh, possessed?"

"I dunno, man. That makes it sound like the whole thing's alive or something. I mean, kind of, but...maybe infected?"

"Unholy?"

"Whatever. It's a bad place." He turned back to the prone contestants. "Right. So, these colonist dudes went out into uncharted wilderness to... uh, colonize and explore and they built this fort here. Seemed like a good spot, right? Most of the forts around here, they have decently-sized underground bits. These guys were digging out some rooms and stuff underground, but they just felt compelled to keep digging, deeper and deeper. That and their architecture got a little...strange." He paused, likely for dramatic effect. "They dug too deep, found something they shouldn't have, and lost some things they needed. They haven't come up yet."

He pointed to a four of the doors around the open courtyard in the center. "Those doors all lead down into the tunnels. They all meet up in a few places down there. You might feel a little...urge to see what's down there. You also might meet some of the colonists. I'm honestly not sure how they'd take to you. Just, y'know, a heads up."

He paused again. After its conspicuous absence throughout the duration of the speech, Bryce's smirk stretched its way across his face. "One last thing. Have fun."

He snapped, and each player was lifted into the air and flung towards one of the doors. They opened just in time, closed behind them, and then glowed briefly accompanied by a low hum.

Each contestant was re-mobilized, their bodies laid out however they had landed when paralyzed.

Woffles · 07-14-2010, 11:54 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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GBCE · 07-14-2010, 12:10 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.

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Woffles · 07-16-2010, 09:14 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

The fortress wasn't unholy in the slightest. It was spooky, yes, haunted, maybe, possessed, not yet. The other contestands still didn't move yet, Glere mumbling to his own, Spender lamenting the loss of his ATM, and Thomas no doubt solving some internal conflict. She decided to wake the poor souls up: "Well boys, if you aren't going to make a move, I'll be looking for a good body of some sort. I'm kind of peeved for losing Michelle, but it couldn't be helped. So long, my dears!" With those words out, she sped through one of the doors, checking for any survivors. "Hello? Anybody down there?" She loved giving people false hope. Well, the crushing part is a bit more satisfying, but that's the automatic follow-up. Whatever resided down the pit let out a mumble and a plea for help. Asteira followed the path, a path awfully steep and possibly no longer suitable for a human to climb, and found herself in an ancient mining site, with a handful of people around a bonfire trying to roast a rat. "Thank God you came! We thought for sure we would die down here!" "You will." "'Scuse me?" Her words didn't quite reach the man with a rough -o'-clock shadow. "You will die here. I'm not a good spirit here to save you, you know." The men's faces turned grim, and portrayed a bit of fear. "I used to live here, on these grounds, and by digging up the entire site, you have awakened my torment. There are three other spirits here: There's a man with a fishbowl for a head, because you cracked his skull with one of your careless shovels. He went crazy. Next there's a man with a cloak with a sad face. You broke his hometown to pieces by placing this fort. He went delusional. Then a man who came here from the future, trying to undo all the trouble you've caused for many generations to come. He now thinks he's four people.
As you can see, you're all in a bit of a predicament, but moreso are the spirits. We all deserve this ground more than you, but we still have to fight for it. So, I've come to give you an offer. Kill these other three spirits, and I will free all of you. Get you away from the evill ghosts and never bother you again. I'm not an evil witch, I just want my house back. Just get those intruders away and that'll be that! Here, I'll even open up the path for all of you..."
Asteira flew up again, and tried to possess a boulder. Much to her surprise, it worked. The rock came tumbling down the path, landing cleanly in the best place for the miners to crawl back up again. "Remember the deal. Kill those other three."

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GBCE · 07-16-2010, 10:59 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.

Spender was sitting two feet from where he fell, leaning up against the wall.

Mostly, he was in shock. It was beyond his memory to come up with a time when he didn't have the ATM device attached to his mind, firmly and unwaveringly offering support no matter what the circumstance.

He was also running through circumstance in his head, trying to think of a way to get it back--or to get another one. But even if he went home, he wasn't sure they could give him another. The devices were in some ways a legacy, and they chose their owners.

He'd already done a thorough inventory of his remaining coins. Mostly standard fare, although he had one or two 'specials' that could be modified into almost anything, using his advanced knowledge; however, they had to last until he could get home, if he COULD get home, and if not, well...

Well, he was a soldier. Soldiers do die. They just need to make sure they've done all they can, first.

Spender's hallway stretched long and dark into the distance. Somehow, he made his way to his feet, and hands in his pockets, he started walking. Although there was no light, his feet were sure, if slow.

He wondered if Thomas would understand. After everything he'd said about stopping the Overseer, his chances were now next to null, even if he got that far. He'd probably die trying--possible or not, it was still the only role he had here. With the power he had displayed, the Overseer could easily hide from the entire rest of the agency even if he could get back and collect enough backup to take him on.

But if he did die trying... if he did get all the way to the end and lose... then nobody wins. Or, worse, the the Overseer wins. He wasn't sure he could accept that.

GBCE · 07-16-2010, 04:52 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by McBatman.

Glere yawned as his limbs unfroze. He had dozed during the whole speech by that Overleader, Oven...hearder, whatever he called himself. He didn't really care. All he knew was that now he was stuck in some dingy dungeon, or something. He got up, trying to move the door. Unseen forces bound it closed, and he kept feeling an itching sensation in the back of his mind to search deeper down. He shrugged, flipping his cape over himself, instantly switching back to his shirt, vest, and dress slacks. The kevlar was a bit much anyways. He felt his front pocket, thinking for a moment, before pulling out the spellcoin from before.
"...you could prove useful to me." he slid it back into his pocket, saving it more for a more opportune moment. He started pacing down the corridor,the light from under the door fading quickly, giving way to flickering torch lights, which were mounted to the wall. Glere pulled out a crowbar, prying one of the restraints off, securing his torchy prize. He started mumbling again.
"Great, in a haunted castle and that ghoul's still on the loose." He gritted his teeth, the lights flickering on his fishbowl. He held a hand to his head, a bit flustered. He hadn't been forced to think so organized for so long, all this order, this structure, it was... maddening. How did someone defeat that which is already dead? He hated to admit it, but he would still need help on this matter.

He continued down the tunnel, hearing faint whispers now and again, ignoring them for the most part. He always heard something. Voices, laughter, music, fire crackers, a violin played by a trout. It was all white noise to him, this castle and its creeping shadows were no different.

**Pinary** · 07-17-2010, 06:35 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

The tunnel around Thomas was dark. A single torch flickered on the wall, but it was dim and close to burning out. The stone floor was rough and uneven, and since he'd spent most of his life aboard a massive city-ship, he didn't exactly have much experience with that sort of thing. He was much more comfortable with the smooth, well-lit contours of an artificial environment than the crude, rough-hewn stone of these tunnels.

For a few seconds, he simply stood there, his minds formulating a plan of action. Really, Greg did most of the talking, working out the most rational approach to the tunnels in short order.

It was immediately obvious to them that the strength of a planet was no longer at their disposal. Greg supposed that, since they would likely be underground the whole time, the duplication of an entire planet hadn't been necessary. Odds are, he reasoned, the world didn't extend very far after the tunnels.

Without the advantage of a planet, they would have to work with what they had. Light would be their first priority, and that was achieved easily enough. Bern would be taking control for most of their journey, and he would simply create and maintain a small flame.

Their second priority would be navigation, and Bern would be taking over that duty. Without a measuring device, it would be hard to keep a perfectly accurate map, but by using paces, he could do a rough approximation at least.

Next, of course, would be the eventuality of encountering someone else, either one of the other contestants or some of the colonists the Overseer had mentioned. It would be nice to keep things peaceful, so some negotiating skill would be handy, but if they wanted to keep their light and talk at the same time, Bern would have to stay in control. It wouldn't be ideal, but in a tense situation, being able to see the other person would be important.

With the plan in place, Bern started down the hall, hand cupping a small ball of flame. The uneven floor sloped down, carrying them deeper into the tunnels.

GBCE · 08-13-2010, 06:25 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.

So, a couple of things. One, I went back and fixed all my previous posts. The background tags are fixed, and the links in the first post work too. I also added a few little summaries to the rounds and characters in the first post.

Two, as you probably know, one of our players is now banned. We will not discuss this here. The good news is that I asked Betelgeuse if we could pass on his posts to this thread while he's banned, and she said that would be fine provided the posts are only in this thread and only for the purposes of this game. I was under the impression one of you knows how to make that happen, so this is the official go-ahead.

That's it, really. I have been a little disappointed to see this game stall out, but these things happen in grand battles and I understand. Just as long as you guys haven't forgotten about it.

Woffles · 08-13-2010, 07:05 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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The dark alleyways and countless rocks reminded the politician of her first encounter with her enemies, in the icy cavern of round one. The endless supply of rocks all around, the passages leading from one to another (though she was the only one to experience it that way by passing through the walls) and the occasional heavy footsteps of a heavily-armored knight, like James Raven.
Hold on, that last part wasn't right. There were no armored knights left in here, to her knowledge. She headed directly towards the clinking sound, hoping to find a fine vessel for this round. She mumbled a bit to herself, sure no one could hear it. "It's a shame really. Every physically great contestant is dead already. You'd think they'd do better at a battle like this... To think I wasted all that effort on setting them up against each other at the start." She reminded herself of what has happened to her already, in the battle and before. She tried to look at herself, only to see the darkness inside the limestone walls. She then remembered that miniature lance of Girgid. "Means to an end. At least I know that plan isn't going to work again. If this contest is over, I'll probably still be a ghost. Wether I die or live, I'll never be the same me again." Musing over everything and anything that crossed her mind, she was caught by surprise to suddenly end up in a corridor, with Glere tugging on a knight's statue. "Hah, that dead witch isn't getting me this time! Even if all this armor fails, I still have a trick up my sleeve" He didn't seem to notice Asteira, so she marked that one up as coincidence. Nevertheless, she hid away somewhere not to be seen. Before climbing into the knight's armor he reached inside his cape to pull out some kind of otherworldy vacuum cleaner. The machine let out a few bleeps and cranks, when a robotic voice sprang up to greet Glere "Spookvacuum Pro ready for use." "What a lame name... But it'll do! Spookvacuum, scan for ghosts!" Hearing those words, Asteira figured it would be best to get the jump on Glere instead of the other way around. She appeared right in front of Glere, Girgid's dagger in hand mostly for the effect of surprise. "Hello Glere, darling. Could you die?"

Thomas had a more difficult time to navigate the tunnels than Asteira, especially the deeper reaches. Whenever a boulder laid in the way, Bern would have to switch out to Greg, who then had to shove the rocks away in complete darkness. If they looked behind them during that change though, they would have noticed the faint torchlight behind them. In a while, the gang of workers caught up with the four, and Greg, who was at the time in control, rapidly turned to look behind him. That same swift motion launched the rock towards the miners, barely missing the assaulters. Bern switched back, and turned on his flame again to see the eyes with a glint of insanity of the leading attacker. "Are you battling a ghost?" "Yeah, we- I am." "I see. We have nothing personal against you, but we need you to die. The three of us were promised rescue if we kill you."

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**Pinary** · 08-14-2010, 06:12 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

Eric started to respond, but Greg interrupted him and took the reins. The flame in his hand flickered out, but the torches held by the miners lit the place well enough.

"Of course you were," he laughed. "Let me guess- You kill us, and she opens the way for you to get out. Yes, I know who made you that offer- only she would do something so clever and manipulative. Well, let me tell you, not only can she not let you out, she can't even be trusted to try. The moment any of the four of us dies, we all disappear, unable to do do a thing to help you. Of course, I could be saying all this just to protect my life. You've got no evidence to trust me over her, so how are you to know who to believe? Well, there's one simple answer- you can't. You've got no information either way. Of course, I'm up front with that, and that raises a whole other level of questions. I could be simply trying to confuse you, or I could be telling you the truth out of the kindness of my heart. There is, however, one thing that I haven't done that should speak volumes. You showed up and immediately threatened my life, and, aside from my initial startled reaction, I haven't done anything to harm you, despite being thoroughly capable of doing so. Instead, I've simply talked and done my best to explain the situation logically. Now, I offer you a choice: you can attempt to kill me, which would result in no gain for you, or you can listen to me and strike a deal that would actually have a net positive result. What do you say?"

Bern careened down the tunnel, holding a bright flame in front of him and doing his best to not trip and fall.

See, Eric thought, this right here is exactly why you don't do negotiations.

Hey, if they were rational, it would have worked!

Lesson one of dealing with people: don't assume they're rational.

"Would you two shut it for a moment?! Or would you rather I trip and get beaten to death by crazy miners?!"

Sorry.

Woffles · 08-22-2010, 06:31 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

This isn't going anywhere... Reserve, out of sheer annoyance.

**Pinary** · 08-23-2010, 06:49 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

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Spender's tunnel was winding, lonely, and dark, and without light as he was, he tread slowly--and more quietly than usual. It gave him time to think, and time to prioritize. He didn't use that time all that well; he wasn't a man prone to sulking, but if ever there was a time, this was it.

A glimmer of light that might have been illusion caught his eye. It was many times reflected; so instead of fleeing, he chased after it, as fast as he could while still being nearly silent. After a while, he realized he had hit a T-intersection, and the light continued to his right. The yells were indistinct, but easily trackable; he hugged the wall and chased after them. Only a few hundred feet later, he realized that the path split left, although the light came from straight ahead; he noted it and kept on the chase.

As he got to the point where he could almost see, he picked up the pace, one hand behind him on the .22 caliber handgun he had stashed in his waistband, one that had seemed for years to be a formality.

He paused before rounding a final curve; ahead, several miners were struggling up a rock wall that showed signs of having been scaled by someone with earth control, probably Thomas. They were well equipped for it, but it was kind of a sheer wall for people who didn't have magic; the lead climber was making good use of a mean pickaxe, and the others were tied with climbing gear to him.

The climber got to the top and was pulling the others up; when the second was pulled to the top, with the third almost there, Spender shot the leader in the kneecap. He had been leaning over the cliff; now he tumbled forward, over the cliff. The second, in a panic, tried to catch himself on the ledge, but he stepped on the third's hand, and they both tumbled down.

Spender didn't check who if any of them survived the fall. He backtracked to the left exit, and in a snarky mood, picked up a stone and carved, blindly, a message into the rock.

Bern was a corner or two ahead, catching his breath both physically and mentally. He might've missed the yell and fall, if not for the gunshot. When he turned to look, nobody was on the cliff face, and torchlight flickered from below.

He hurried back and peeked over the edge, then swapped out for Greg, who used the rock wall to carefully, but quickly, descend.

Wait a moment. Who else had a gun? Greg squinted at the pile of nearly-dead miners, but couldn't discern a gunshot. Michelle's dead; Spender could make one, but why? Glere could get one easily, but this isn't his style. Asteira... if she possessed someone? Would miners have guns?

Bern swapped back in, and eased cautiously back through the hallway. It seemed fruitless; there was no sound or obvious track, until he got to a branch in the corridor.

There, barely legible, was carved,
"I like to keep my enemies confused. Agent S"

Woffles · 08-25-2010, 09:55 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

"Aha! There's our devil girl! I was hoping you'd pop up. See this gear?" "Glere, please. How many fairy tale characters are you going to call me? Witch, demon, devil... I'm just an ordinary ghost, dear!" "Well, I've got just the treat for ghosts! Meet Vacuumblaster 3000!" "Didn't it just say Spookvacuum?" "That is SUCH a lame name!" "Alright then. Are you going to suck me in now?" "I'm... trying to, but it's just won't work! Lousy piece of junk! Hey, and stop calling me dear!" Asteira twiddled her thumbs. "Why won't you work, damnit!" "Silly Glere... It's been working all this time. What you're holding is an ordinary vacuum with a very tacky name." "So aren't you going to possess me?" "Aha, now that's another thing. Remember back in the ascended city? You were mumbling a bit to yourself about me... and about that trick up your sleeve. I'd rather not fall for that trap, especially taking the last time into account. Instead, I'm going to see what you can manage. Hit me with your best shot!" Glere stood dumbfounded in his heavy armor seeing Asteira offer him a clean hit. He had to think big... Lasers, he needed those. Fire aswell! Poison wouldn't work, she doesn't breathe. Ghost poison? How would that even work? Poison an item they possess or something? Using it on himself would probably kill him, but maybe put it in his fishbowl? No, no, focus, Glere! Lasers, fire, what else? Explosions don't work, it didn't work last time either. That colloseum was really destroyed by the end of the round, wasn't it? No it wasn't, that was the city. What did Asteira say again? Oh, right. Right! Battling! Fire and lasers, that's what I need. Glere reached for his came and pulled out a flamethrower with a raygun in the bayonet mound, and the C4 he used before cut in small bricks, lined up in a giant Pez dispenser as his offhand.
"Alright! This is it, freak!" Glere didn't stop cackling as he repeatedly fired the chimera among weapons. "Ha! Don't you see what you've done? You just gave me the ultimate weapon! I call your bluff on that trump of yours!" Asteira entered Glere's mind once more, and was faced with a familiar sight. The left hand stared at Asteira again, less dumbfounded as in the wax arena, but moreso with a look of determination. Which was odd, because a hand can't really look or feel determined at all. The hand quickly grabbed at Glere's bowl, lifting it from his body. "What? What are you doing?!" Asteira thought quickly and grabbed Glere's cape with the remaining hand, and whirled it around the other as it threw the fishbowl to the floor.

"Where is this place?" Asteira found herself in an immense labyrinth of doors and hallways, running over and under each other, leading towards rooms she was sure she'd been through already and braiding together like a giant, unnavigable spider web. She triend to ignore the inconvenient placing of walls and simply barge through, but some force prevented her. Glere's image appeared near her and spoke. "I'm afraid that won't work. You're in my world now, not yours. I can make up rules in my own mind, and there's only one rule here." He paused for a dramatic effect and a smirk to bejewel his shining head. "Go crazy!" He disappeared again, and left Asteira to dwell in his mind for a little longer. He didn't have a plan for after that, and he figured he'd think up something on the go.

Asteira noticed something odd about Glere's mind, and her opinion was to be trusted as she had seen far too many minds for her own good in the last few hours of this contest. "Glere, you're not insane. You can't be." "Whozzat?" Glere emerged again from wherever he was hiding, this time with a fancy monocle to top off his choice of words. "It's simple. You keep talking about being crazy, and keep using exactly that word. You're actually covering up for something, trying to cope with something." "I... Welllll... What's this labyrinth mean then, miss ghost psychiatrist?" "Glere, this labyrinth is exactly that. You're keeping people from getting to your core in fear of them finding out your secret." "And you're sure that labyrinth isn't me being crazy?" "There's that word again." Glere grunted. "This place isn't crazy enough for someone truly insane. The floor doesn't change color, there aren't any sharks swimming around, the wall is always made of exactly the same material. It should rapidly switch from corian to christmas pudding, for crying out loud! You're as sane as anyone. Deep beneath that crazy act, there lies a very calculated common sense." Glere grunted once more, and then stayed silent for a while, just enough for Asteira to start wondering if he had even heard what she said. Then he let out a fierce, hysterical laughter... and vanished. The walls that made up most of his mind started to show cracks, and soon crumbled to dust. Asteira found her way out of the maze, and took control once more. "And now, to put that weapon to use." Asteira let out a feigned laughter as she pulled both triggers simultaneously, blowing a clump of dirt out the wall.

GBCE · 08-29-2010, 06:39 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by McBatman.

Asteira walked down the corridor, about ready to fire another round, when she felt a slight, strange, burning sensation in the back of her own mind. She shook it off.
'Such a clever girl, aren't you my dear?'She looked around, was that Glere? Normally sure, they could talk, but this wasn't the sound of someone struggling to get free like usual. It was calm, collected.
'It does get tiring after awhile. Always having to play the court jester to lure people into false senses of security, always expecting something as foolish as a rubber duck cannon, then you hit them with a claymore to the back of the head.'[/I]
"Taunt all you want Glere, I'm not falling for anymore of your mind games, I see through your charade, I called your bluff! HA!"
'Quite honestly, that's why you should start sweating.' His voice was eerily calm, cool, relaxed.
The first thing she noticed was the sudden shuddering of both arms, as the chimera weapon was dropped as the hands plummeted to her side, the head going slack, and the knees buckling. The cape unfastened itself from around Glere's body, sliding back across the floor. Shuffling was heard as though someone was digging through, though no one could be seen. A similar outfit comparable to the body Asteira currently possessed seemed to slide out of the cape's interior, as the clacking of something sliding into place echoed. A pair of gloved hands slid into the sleeves, and the entire outfit came to life again as the headless form of a newly constructed Glere fished out another fishbowl from the cape. Asteira seemed confused as she worked the body again, strangely much easier, but also much more difficultly than before.
'You in there, I demand you tell me what's going on this instant!' There was no reply back from Glere's mind, and it was then she noticed she couldn't feel it anymore. It had disconnected the moment the cape had slid off the body.
The fishbowl from the cape snapped into place with a sickening crack, as per usual. Glere flexed his fingers, rather dismayed in contrast to his usual self.
"Ugh, not as high of quality craftsman ship I must admit. I'll just have to work harder next time." He said walking over, and grabbing the chimera weapon and throwing back into the cape. Asteira struggled to her feet in Glere's old body, sans cape, looking confused and both frustrated. Her face was now reflecting clearly in the bowl instead of the simple face of Glere's.
"Would you care to explain what the hell just happened?" Asteira grumbled, seemingly adjusting to the body. Glere flexed his fingers, before tossing his gloves back into his cape, and pulling out another pair. He slid them back on, and was more pleased with the new ones.
"I guess so, but I don't see why I should, Miss Knowsnothingaboutanything!" Glere said throwing his cape around himself again, making sure it was fastened tight. He tapped on his chest, producing a hollow thud. He tilted his head slightly, looking rather amused, but still looking greatly different than before.
"You never noticed it, did you?"
"Notice...what?" she said, very obviously not caring.
"The lack of a pulse." Glere said tapping his wrist. Asteira hadn't really paid much attention, or maybe the fact she didn't have one made the transition less noticeable, but it began to come to her mind that the previous time she did not in fact notice one.
"So shocking plot twist, you were dead the whole time? Real original."
"Um... no. More akin to a marionette actually. Though the bodies are a bit more... um, realistic in some circumstances." Glere said holding a hand to his chin thoughtfully. Asteira tilted her head.
"Uh...what?"
"Well, it is incredibly life like still, but, no, it's been years since that one last drew a breath. Remember? I said I loved playing games, I just never specified how they ended or what the stakes were! I store pretty much anything a person could want to find, really. I mean, no, I don't produce anything I want, that's a bit beyond me. But I store quite a lot of valuables. Gold, jewels, weaponry, art, etc, etc. But it's no way to move around, you know? So, along comes an adventurer seeking great wealth, so I setup a game. Brave the maze and escape with your prized treasure. Well... that one put up a good effort, but it didn't find it's way out fast enough, and wouldn't you know it? He ran out of air. Another drowned in a lake. They go so many ways, but you learn how to preserve the body after awhile. I'd like to say I'm quite the taxidermist by now!" Glere laughed, slapping his knee. He then looked at the leg, lifting and lowering it slightly, as though adjusting to it. He seemed a little bit shorter too. Asteira could only stare.
"You keep wanting that one, so, fine, take it. I've got others. I'm not immortal by any means but... ah, why should I spoil my fun? As you can see... my abilities are limited in scope. Sure, weapons of various kinds, even mazes like that, but you are a nuisance to me. I have no use for a wandering dead!" He said walking past Asteira.
"You want a body, feel free to keep that one, but careful, it's taken quite a beating over the course of the games. Oh, and I AM still working a solution to you, so don't fret." He said, walking next to her, reaching into the vest pocket, and pulling out the spellcoin. He slid it into his new body's vest pocket, saluted, then walked off around a corner.

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Dragon Fogel · 08-29-2010, 12:36 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Woffles · 08-31-2010, 01:13 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

Asteira was, for the first time in this battle, truly, thoroughly gobsmacked. She saw the inside of Glere's mind to be nothing like she imagined it to be, and despite her air of certainity was left unawarded with a decent or less than decent explanation of anything he had done in the entire battle. She had seen Glere drag out a different body and just letting her take over the current entirely, and she had heard the newly created man smugly walk away. She dropped the ridiculous weapons to the floor in awe, and as they made a satisfying shatter falling onto the rigid ground, she finally tried to open her mouth and emit something with at least a little sense. "You're a cape." She tried again. "All this time you were the cape." Glere was far out of range to hear her, and when the ghost realised that, she shut up. Then she schemed, then giggled. That giggle soon became a bone-chilling cackle - so maniacal one could think that Asteira went cape aswell - filling the fortress with a general malaise and making it indeed seem possessed, unholy, haunted, and anything else The Overseer decided to slap on the castle as an adjective.

Spender erred through the dirt-covered hallways of the castle, musing about his next move, when he was sudddenly taken by surprise due to a menacing laugh filling the thin air. Thrown off by the origin of the sound, the agent pivoted around himself, checking every angle for the only one in this contest who could pull off such a devilish cackle. "Glere," he thought. He followed his gut on where the laughter boomed from, and his gut was proven right quite soon, when Glere stood eye to eye with Coy Spender, a menacing grin bejeweling the former's face. "You're not wearing your cape." "I'm not! I transformed with that coin you gave me." "You transformed into... yourself?" "Well, myself without the cape, mind you!" A mumbled curse barely escaped his lips, which he quickly rephrased as a silent "You're an idiot. That coin was one of the only ones left." For that one little second, in that dim hallway, Spender had for a first time in his recent memory given up a bit of hope.

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