Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round One: Alpha Complex!]
06-05-2010, 09:38 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
Maxwell banged his head on a chair as Kracht tossed him back into the briefing room. "Shit!" he exclaimed, startling Jen back into consciousness.
"Jesus," said Jen, standing up but keeping her distance from the worm. "Ugh. How's that Grand Battle working out for you?"
"Well, you know, I thought I had to do something," answered Maxwell dryly.
Sikarius pulled himself over his head with a crack and a schloop. "'Felt'? What's this past tense, boy? Are you already cowed? Are you going back to sitting on your ass and awaiting further instructions with... with this appetizer? Yes, you!" the Wyrm hissed, turning his mouth towards Jen. "You're, like, five mozzerella sticks and some salsa that I spent eight dollars for because I know my entrée isn't going to arrive for forty-five minutes! How the fuck did you get into this battle anyway?"
Jen shrugged. "Oh, you know how it is. Exploits."
"Exploits?" Maxwell sat down wearily. He was feeling a strange mix of disappointment and despair that ate at his heart like a tumor (and he knew personally what heart-tumors felt like, so don't dare accuse him of hyperbole, dear Reader).
"Yeah. I have exploits. Most of them were exaggerated a bit, but, you know. I could see how the recruiting entities or whatever would get confused."
"Exploits. Jesus. Is there any hope for either of us, Jen?"
"Don't talk to me about hope! And don't talk to her about hope! Come on, boy, let's just take it one round at a time. First, we eat the girl. Then, we worry about the inedible block of metal."
"We... worry? That's unlike you, Sik."
"Don't change the subject!"
"The inedible block of metal?" said Jen quizzically.
"Yeah, it's right outside and it kicked Sik's ass."
"You're the one with the ass, boy! I won't have you heaping blame on me!"
Jen sighed, finding this Lovecraftian remix of the Honeymooners dynamic to be entirely nonthreatening. She returned to the door and it opened to reveal a naked metallic man the color of disease. "Hi," she told it. "I'm Jen and I thought we should talk. You're... Cracked, right?"
Maxwell banged his head on a chair as Kracht tossed him back into the briefing room. "Shit!" he exclaimed, startling Jen back into consciousness.
"Jesus," said Jen, standing up but keeping her distance from the worm. "Ugh. How's that Grand Battle working out for you?"
"Well, you know, I thought I had to do something," answered Maxwell dryly.
Sikarius pulled himself over his head with a crack and a schloop. "'Felt'? What's this past tense, boy? Are you already cowed? Are you going back to sitting on your ass and awaiting further instructions with... with this appetizer? Yes, you!" the Wyrm hissed, turning his mouth towards Jen. "You're, like, five mozzerella sticks and some salsa that I spent eight dollars for because I know my entrée isn't going to arrive for forty-five minutes! How the fuck did you get into this battle anyway?"
Jen shrugged. "Oh, you know how it is. Exploits."
"Exploits?" Maxwell sat down wearily. He was feeling a strange mix of disappointment and despair that ate at his heart like a tumor (and he knew personally what heart-tumors felt like, so don't dare accuse him of hyperbole, dear Reader).
"Yeah. I have exploits. Most of them were exaggerated a bit, but, you know. I could see how the recruiting entities or whatever would get confused."
"Exploits. Jesus. Is there any hope for either of us, Jen?"
"Don't talk to me about hope! And don't talk to her about hope! Come on, boy, let's just take it one round at a time. First, we eat the girl. Then, we worry about the inedible block of metal."
"We... worry? That's unlike you, Sik."
"Don't change the subject!"
"The inedible block of metal?" said Jen quizzically.
"Yeah, it's right outside and it kicked Sik's ass."
"You're the one with the ass, boy! I won't have you heaping blame on me!"
Jen sighed, finding this Lovecraftian remix of the Honeymooners dynamic to be entirely nonthreatening. She returned to the door and it opened to reveal a naked metallic man the color of disease. "Hi," she told it. "I'm Jen and I thought we should talk. You're... Cracked, right?"