Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round One: Alpha Complex!]
06-14-2010, 12:22 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Weo was finding all this sudden attention irksome as he negotiated the cheerfully unhelpful terminal's interface with clumsy patience. Granted, the chessboard wasn't doing much other than the blatantly obvious act of sizing the Rillian up, but its blank stare was still a touch disconcerting. The terminal gave a disconsolate clunk, but Weo was disappointed to see it was only the request of a less patient former user which had been fulfilled. An unmarked disc slid out, leaving the warrior devoid of rhyme or reason, or god forbid, a map to navigate this warren. After a suspicious glare in a still-motionless Xadrez's direction, and holding the disc to the flickering lights to determine if it was anything less innocuous than a reflective disc, The Divider pocketed it.
"Excellent craftsmanship. May I ask the name of its creator?"
The violet eyes blinked once, glancing to the scythe and back at Arkal. With a shrug that was a delicate balance between warweary nonchalance and begrudging pride, the Rillian rasped, "'ss my own conssruction."
"Impressive," was Arkal's reply. He had a good feeling Weo would be most reluctant to let him examine the weapon closer, so settled for glancing behind the humanoid at Xadrez, who was presently tracing lines with his fingers upon the chessboard in a manner that would've been absent were the spirit not staring dead at them. "Is he..."
The Rillian's explosive sigh indicated he could care less what Xadrez was doing, as snatched up his scythe and stalked past the tactician, who was still engrossed in whatever pattern he was building up under the tracery of his digits. A yell echoed from up the corridor, Xadrez and Arkal turning to see a jet-black humanoid be accosted by a lurid green one.
"Oh, damnit, Weo... Hey. Look. Just... Briefing room's that way. Could you do me a favour, and just..."-the golem seemed more agitated than earlier, Xadrez noticed with interest- "wait there? Please? Damnit, I need to go and find that idiot Keleth, stop this whole iteration from being a complete waste..." Kracht was about to take off down another corridor, when he spotted Arkal and Xadrez. Gesticulating wildly, he yelled down the corridor, "follow Weo! Please! It... Look, it'll just make things a lot less unpleasant for all of us, all right?" Shoving a bemused Rillian in the right direction, Kracht muttered an apology and clanged off down the corridor he was certain Keleth had wandered.
It was a tidy little nook and had Kracht lacked the experience of several repetitions of this messy little iteration, he wouldn't have found Keleth tucked in there as he tried to crack open the capsule to peruse its contents.
"Keleth?" It was more of a formality than a valid question, but god damn this guy could get touchy about manners if the mood struck him. The mineral jerked his head back the way they'd come. "I've got a pretty good idea what's in the capsule, so just come with me to briefing, all right?" Without another word, the mineral tugged the shapeshifter along with a minimum of complaint.
Arkal looked toward the looming humanoid, its features about as readable as mist. Weo had already disappeared round the corner. "What... what on earth was that jabbering material on about? To his surprise, the entity's response was no movement of its body, but a sudden warmth in Arkal's pocket. Pulling out the quartzite dignitary, the smith glanced from player to piece as the voice, unmistakeably Xadrez's, slid into his mind.
The Kracht is in a state which allows multiple iterations of this battle we are in- It was a calm voice, a weighed and doled out voice. Xadrez drifted onward, Arkal pausing to fetch and chain up his forge before jogging to catch up-
From my understanding not all points are fixed- Xadrez turned the corner; the hallway was narrower here. Arkal fell in step behind him, one brawny hand still clutching the chess piece-
But really
I care little for his delusions
If all it takes is a misplaced warrior to set his board askew- The chessmaster's hands drifted over the board as he spoke, with no regard for the cadence of his own voice. The shapeless hunks of Alpha Complex's walls slid in slow arcs round the obsidian-
Then I place little stock in this purported prescience
The duo reached a doorway. Maxwell gave an apathetic little wave of greeting; Jen was too busy appraising the Rillian, who was leaving crimson smudges on the wall he leant against. Xadrez motioned for Arkal to go ahead; the very normal proportions of it suggested it'd be a struggle for Arkal to squeeze through, let alone Xadrez's giant black plate. The spirit raised its head enough to meet Arkal's eyes, and ushered him through while it stood mutely guard at the door, gazing up the corridor for the other three.
Spoiler
Weo was finding all this sudden attention irksome as he negotiated the cheerfully unhelpful terminal's interface with clumsy patience. Granted, the chessboard wasn't doing much other than the blatantly obvious act of sizing the Rillian up, but its blank stare was still a touch disconcerting. The terminal gave a disconsolate clunk, but Weo was disappointed to see it was only the request of a less patient former user which had been fulfilled. An unmarked disc slid out, leaving the warrior devoid of rhyme or reason, or god forbid, a map to navigate this warren. After a suspicious glare in a still-motionless Xadrez's direction, and holding the disc to the flickering lights to determine if it was anything less innocuous than a reflective disc, The Divider pocketed it.
"Excellent craftsmanship. May I ask the name of its creator?"
The violet eyes blinked once, glancing to the scythe and back at Arkal. With a shrug that was a delicate balance between warweary nonchalance and begrudging pride, the Rillian rasped, "'ss my own conssruction."
"Impressive," was Arkal's reply. He had a good feeling Weo would be most reluctant to let him examine the weapon closer, so settled for glancing behind the humanoid at Xadrez, who was presently tracing lines with his fingers upon the chessboard in a manner that would've been absent were the spirit not staring dead at them. "Is he..."
The Rillian's explosive sigh indicated he could care less what Xadrez was doing, as snatched up his scythe and stalked past the tactician, who was still engrossed in whatever pattern he was building up under the tracery of his digits. A yell echoed from up the corridor, Xadrez and Arkal turning to see a jet-black humanoid be accosted by a lurid green one.
"Oh, damnit, Weo... Hey. Look. Just... Briefing room's that way. Could you do me a favour, and just..."-the golem seemed more agitated than earlier, Xadrez noticed with interest- "wait there? Please? Damnit, I need to go and find that idiot Keleth, stop this whole iteration from being a complete waste..." Kracht was about to take off down another corridor, when he spotted Arkal and Xadrez. Gesticulating wildly, he yelled down the corridor, "follow Weo! Please! It... Look, it'll just make things a lot less unpleasant for all of us, all right?" Shoving a bemused Rillian in the right direction, Kracht muttered an apology and clanged off down the corridor he was certain Keleth had wandered.
It was a tidy little nook and had Kracht lacked the experience of several repetitions of this messy little iteration, he wouldn't have found Keleth tucked in there as he tried to crack open the capsule to peruse its contents.
"Keleth?" It was more of a formality than a valid question, but god damn this guy could get touchy about manners if the mood struck him. The mineral jerked his head back the way they'd come. "I've got a pretty good idea what's in the capsule, so just come with me to briefing, all right?" Without another word, the mineral tugged the shapeshifter along with a minimum of complaint.
Arkal looked toward the looming humanoid, its features about as readable as mist. Weo had already disappeared round the corner. "What... what on earth was that jabbering material on about? To his surprise, the entity's response was no movement of its body, but a sudden warmth in Arkal's pocket. Pulling out the quartzite dignitary, the smith glanced from player to piece as the voice, unmistakeably Xadrez's, slid into his mind.
The Kracht is in a state which allows multiple iterations of this battle we are in- It was a calm voice, a weighed and doled out voice. Xadrez drifted onward, Arkal pausing to fetch and chain up his forge before jogging to catch up-
From my understanding not all points are fixed- Xadrez turned the corner; the hallway was narrower here. Arkal fell in step behind him, one brawny hand still clutching the chess piece-
But really
I care little for his delusions
If all it takes is a misplaced warrior to set his board askew- The chessmaster's hands drifted over the board as he spoke, with no regard for the cadence of his own voice. The shapeless hunks of Alpha Complex's walls slid in slow arcs round the obsidian-
Then I place little stock in this purported prescience
The duo reached a doorway. Maxwell gave an apathetic little wave of greeting; Jen was too busy appraising the Rillian, who was leaving crimson smudges on the wall he leant against. Xadrez motioned for Arkal to go ahead; the very normal proportions of it suggested it'd be a struggle for Arkal to squeeze through, let alone Xadrez's giant black plate. The spirit raised its head enough to meet Arkal's eyes, and ushered him through while it stood mutely guard at the door, gazing up the corridor for the other three.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow