Re: Petty Squabble [ROUND 1] [Fort Ayers, New Atlantis]
06-11-2011, 07:28 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
John wheezed a bit as he laughed, sucking in deep breaths of air as he leaned on one edge of the door-frame.
"I... cannot believe... he didn't see that coming." He didn't bother addressing Parsley- for the moment, the demon-hunter was stunned. Instead, he talked to the 'group at large,' which amounted to just Nancy (giving him that same vaguely confused look of recognition she'd had before) and Six (incapable of giving looks of any sort). "I mean, really..." He added a tired little chuckle and clapped Six on the shoulder. "You'd think an expert like him would be able to handle a little Aikido."
Six calmly ignored the hand on his shoulder. He doubted this human (another contestant, he noted) would be able to unbalance him very easily. Something did perturb him a bit, though; the man's eyes, for just a few seconds, flicked quickly and calmly around the room. That was not the behaviour of a tired, worn-out man.
John continued moving, still acting as though he'd been winded by the fight, taking another step in and leaning on a shelf of cleaning supplies instead of the impassive Gamehost. Wood panels, metal brackets. Slight give. He was still breathing heavily; the fight had appeared to have taken quite a toll.
"Sure, to be fair, it was something like the third style I threw out in a row, but it's not like I'm an expert in any of them."
"Why were you even brawlin' in the first place?"
John turned sharply to look at Nancy, as though he'd forgotten she was even there and been rather startled to hear her speak.
"Oh, nothing big," he said. Taking the step and a half it took to cross the cramped storage closet, he leaned down to examine an industrial-sized jug of cleaner. Wide mouth. Danger: flammable. Mostly full. With a small chuckle, he spun the cap around a few times, toying with it. As he stood back up, he hissed into her ear, "Be ready to run." Understandably confused, she started to respond, but he turned away and talked over her, so she just clammed up.
"He's decided that I'm the 'demon' controlling this place," he chuckled. "Seriously. Me." Idly, he grabbed the handle of a broom, leaning a bit on it instead of any of the shelves. Dry, wooden handle, old-school straw. Stiff bristles. Old. "So, of course, demon-hunter that he is, he decided to make with the hunting. He started out with a few breadsticks, then pulled a knife on me."
"He tried to kill you?" Nancy was noticeably perturbed. "Why're you dawdling around in here?! He won't be konked out for long!"
"That he won't," John agreed, "but I just want to make his life a little more interesting when he comes around." From the shelf next to him, he grabbed a long-necked lighter. He idly flicked it once or twice and passed his gaze around the room once more. Perfect.
"Contestant 2," Six said, "Question 15: How, in this context, do you define interesting?"
John leaned back on the shelves, resting one hand out to either side. "Interesting?" He grinned at the robot, cocking his head a bit as he did. "Simple: Likely to be the last thing he ever knows." Suddenly, with a downward shove, he snapped the shelf from the wall, wrenching out the screws holding it up and sending several dozen bottles of various fluids clattering down to the floor. Only two or three opened on impact, but they still sloshed enough around to make a substantial puddle.
Before the last of them had even landed, he'd grabbed the broom in both hands and snapped the brittle handle with his knee. With the same leg, conveniently already cocked, he lashed out at the jug of cleaner beside Nancy, knocking the cap off. Turning the kick into a quick crouch, he grabbed the bristle end of the broom (now with maybe a foot of handle max) and stuck it in the jug's top. The lighter lit the bristles, and the old, dry broom quickly added another flickering light to the room.
Grabbing Nancy by the wrist, he yanked her past the Gamehost and out the door. All traces of being winded had vanished- he'd caught his breath far earlier, just keeping the act going as another means of being underestimated. The two ran, John leading the way down the hall.
Six hesitated for a nanosecond, deciding if he should follow. Fortunately, his programming made the decision easy. Someone dying because they were defenceless was not good for ratings; audiences wanted confrontation and excitement, and burning alive in a broom closet just didn't qualify.
-
Parsley came back to consciousness just as the bone-dry broom-head burned down far enough, the impromptu fuse catching the cleaner and bathing everything in the storage room in flame. The other fluids on the floor caught as well, adding to the explosion, and soon every bottle from the broken shelf had been vaporized. The heat of it caught the bottles and jugs on higher shelves as well, and a few moments later, everything in the storage room was either blown up or burned to a crisp.
The demon-hunter looked on as the flames burst out into the hallway a few dozen feet away, the Gamehost standing beside his slumped charge.
John wheezed a bit as he laughed, sucking in deep breaths of air as he leaned on one edge of the door-frame.
"I... cannot believe... he didn't see that coming." He didn't bother addressing Parsley- for the moment, the demon-hunter was stunned. Instead, he talked to the 'group at large,' which amounted to just Nancy (giving him that same vaguely confused look of recognition she'd had before) and Six (incapable of giving looks of any sort). "I mean, really..." He added a tired little chuckle and clapped Six on the shoulder. "You'd think an expert like him would be able to handle a little Aikido."
Six calmly ignored the hand on his shoulder. He doubted this human (another contestant, he noted) would be able to unbalance him very easily. Something did perturb him a bit, though; the man's eyes, for just a few seconds, flicked quickly and calmly around the room. That was not the behaviour of a tired, worn-out man.
John continued moving, still acting as though he'd been winded by the fight, taking another step in and leaning on a shelf of cleaning supplies instead of the impassive Gamehost. Wood panels, metal brackets. Slight give. He was still breathing heavily; the fight had appeared to have taken quite a toll.
"Sure, to be fair, it was something like the third style I threw out in a row, but it's not like I'm an expert in any of them."
"Why were you even brawlin' in the first place?"
John turned sharply to look at Nancy, as though he'd forgotten she was even there and been rather startled to hear her speak.
"Oh, nothing big," he said. Taking the step and a half it took to cross the cramped storage closet, he leaned down to examine an industrial-sized jug of cleaner. Wide mouth. Danger: flammable. Mostly full. With a small chuckle, he spun the cap around a few times, toying with it. As he stood back up, he hissed into her ear, "Be ready to run." Understandably confused, she started to respond, but he turned away and talked over her, so she just clammed up.
"He's decided that I'm the 'demon' controlling this place," he chuckled. "Seriously. Me." Idly, he grabbed the handle of a broom, leaning a bit on it instead of any of the shelves. Dry, wooden handle, old-school straw. Stiff bristles. Old. "So, of course, demon-hunter that he is, he decided to make with the hunting. He started out with a few breadsticks, then pulled a knife on me."
"He tried to kill you?" Nancy was noticeably perturbed. "Why're you dawdling around in here?! He won't be konked out for long!"
"That he won't," John agreed, "but I just want to make his life a little more interesting when he comes around." From the shelf next to him, he grabbed a long-necked lighter. He idly flicked it once or twice and passed his gaze around the room once more. Perfect.
"Contestant 2," Six said, "Question 15: How, in this context, do you define interesting?"
John leaned back on the shelves, resting one hand out to either side. "Interesting?" He grinned at the robot, cocking his head a bit as he did. "Simple: Likely to be the last thing he ever knows." Suddenly, with a downward shove, he snapped the shelf from the wall, wrenching out the screws holding it up and sending several dozen bottles of various fluids clattering down to the floor. Only two or three opened on impact, but they still sloshed enough around to make a substantial puddle.
Before the last of them had even landed, he'd grabbed the broom in both hands and snapped the brittle handle with his knee. With the same leg, conveniently already cocked, he lashed out at the jug of cleaner beside Nancy, knocking the cap off. Turning the kick into a quick crouch, he grabbed the bristle end of the broom (now with maybe a foot of handle max) and stuck it in the jug's top. The lighter lit the bristles, and the old, dry broom quickly added another flickering light to the room.
Grabbing Nancy by the wrist, he yanked her past the Gamehost and out the door. All traces of being winded had vanished- he'd caught his breath far earlier, just keeping the act going as another means of being underestimated. The two ran, John leading the way down the hall.
Six hesitated for a nanosecond, deciding if he should follow. Fortunately, his programming made the decision easy. Someone dying because they were defenceless was not good for ratings; audiences wanted confrontation and excitement, and burning alive in a broom closet just didn't qualify.
-
Parsley came back to consciousness just as the bone-dry broom-head burned down far enough, the impromptu fuse catching the cleaner and bathing everything in the storage room in flame. The other fluids on the floor caught as well, adding to the explosion, and soon every bottle from the broken shelf had been vaporized. The heat of it caught the bottles and jugs on higher shelves as well, and a few moments later, everything in the storage room was either blown up or burned to a crisp.
The demon-hunter looked on as the flames burst out into the hallway a few dozen feet away, the Gamehost standing beside his slumped charge.