Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Two: Sk'va!]
08-26-2010, 09:01 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
For a moment after the shaking started Jen thought that Arkal was channeling Hephaestus or something in his rage; then there was a lurching feeling like an elevator starting up and she sensed a greater trouble.
“Aw, fuck,” said the smaller cop. “Did you do this?” he asked Jen, a hint of a whisper in his voice.
“No, I swear,” answered Jen. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t—” the cop ran over to his partner, who was crumpled unconscious against the wall.
”He’ll be fine,” grunted Arkal, tinkering with a hole-punch and the cap to a bottle of glue. ”His exoskeleton’s crude, but should be able to take a couple knocks.”
“We need to get him out of here,” urged the cop.
“Yeah, but ‘here’ might be a little broad.” Jen patted the cop on the shoulder, which was pretty uncomfortable. “Is there a shelter for this? Anything?”
“The church cathedral is designed to withstand all conventional apocalypses, but it’s closed until the end of the war, due to hypocrisy.”
Jen tried to nod but was interrupted by another lurch. “Take your partner here. There’ll be a riot, but don’t try to police anything. I’m going to go find a douchey guy made of rock and make it tell me the future. Arkal, you coming with?”
”Mmm? No. I’d rather see about this cathedral.” Arkal reluctantly put away his tools and shouldered the unconscious policeman over his shoulder. ”Come along, young one, let’s leave the heroes to their scheming. We have work to do, eh?”
Once Arkal and the rookie had left, Jen hurriedly grabbed some paper on a pen from off the shelves and scrawled down a note:
Moses:
Can’t chat need to find someone no rabbits here so don’t ask name is Krakt (sp?) should be somewhere in a town called Sk’Va please hurry [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img] Jen
She stuffed it in her pocket, dashed out the door and punched the first local she found in the face.
“Where’s the post office?” she demanded. Her hand hurt.
“The hell is your problem?” said the bug. “Listen, I have money, I have eggs, just let me go, I need to get to the cathedral, okay?”
“The post office!”
“That way!” The bug pointed, threw down some money and a stubby-looking sword, and ran off. Jen grabbed everything.
* * * * *
Maxwell woke up covered in chocolate and ooze. Shit, he thought. Another date ruined.
He stumbled out under an upsettingly dim noonday sun and watched two things that could not exactly be described as helicopters drop a couple of bombs on a building two blocks down. One of the walls of the building fell upward, which Maxwell took as a bad sign. Sik, despite having clearly gotten the better deal out of the last fifteen minutes, was upset.
“Listen, Maxwell, a species as largely unintelligent as mine doesn’t survive without some pretty decisive instincts and mine are kind of, hmmmmm, wobbling? I don’t have words. It’s on your head to make sure we don’t die soon.” Maxwell sighed. His mind went forth, then back again on whether Kracht had been bluffing.
Then Jen showed up. ”Maxwell! Imminent apocalypse, mission afoot, please to follow.”
Maxwell found himself obeying.
Walking through Sk’Va at this phase was sort of like walking with those glasses they gave you in school to show you what the world looks like when you’re drunk, except the line he was looking for was his center of gravity. Occasionally he felt himself getting lighter, and other times he felt the ground pushing up against his feet so he almost collapsed. Sik wasn’t helping. “You’ve surely figured out how this wurrks by now. One or two people die, the rest of us get teleported out of here to somewhere safer. This kind of defeatism isn’t like you.” ”Yes it is.” “Well, okay, fine, but normally I’m the one who defeats you, not the rock or the girl with the… face that I’m pretty sure is nothing to get worked up about by standards of human attraction—” “Wow, Sik, your trash talk leaves something to be desired.” “I’m trying to make a point, Max, which is that you’re acting completely outside of any kind of rationality. You have fallen off Maslow’s Pyramid and are running around on the sphinx’s back.” “Listen, Sik, I think I have this worked out. We have three people who are at least biologically alive and three things that were born out of fucking—”
Jen whistled. “I’d like to point out that I can still hear you both. Also, we’re here.” It was a post office. “It’s a post office,” said Maxwell.
”Yes,” said Jen. “It’s a post office.”
* * * * *
On the inside, it was a post office, except empty. “—certain clauses that are mostly in place to stop me from missing out on the fun,” Jen was explaining to Maxwell, “And some of those happen to give me slight advantages, like the one that grants me access to all psychic rapports. Apparently the Grand Battle technically counts as a ‘party or event’ and someone or other is getting paid for me to be here. Shit, maybe it’s Moses. Fuck, maybe it’s me.”
”Who’s Mo—“
”Help me find stamps.” Jen hopped over the counter and found stamps embarrassingly quickly. “Okay never mind, help me find a mailbox.” There were mailboxes right next to the stamps. “Alright never mind, watch the door.” She put the stamp on the letter and put the letter in the mailbox and closed the mailbox.
”Any chance you’re going to tell me what we’re doing here and how long it will take?”grumbled Maxwell
”Contacting someone back home who will know where to find Kracht, who hopefully knows how to make this stop happening. It’ll be about two minutes.”
”You sure this is the fastest way to find him?”
”No, but it’s the most dependable way. I… I assume we’ll make it in time, anyway.”
”Kracht told me I was going to die this round,” sighed Maxwell.
“Yeah I was thinking it would probably be you. Or that other thing that’s a thing. You know that thing?”
”The uh, the round thing? Yeah, I have no idea what’s up with that.”
”Maybe we should kill it. Or maybe it’ll give us a ride home.”
Maxwell shrugged, making Sik hiss a little. ”Nah, if we’re gonna kill anybody this round, we should kill Arkal. It’d be easy.”
”No way, Arkal and I are total bros. Also I need him to make a sword for me so I don’t end up stuck with shit like this,” she added, holding up the stolen sword. I forbid you from killing Arkal.”
”You forbid me? Am I your bitch now?”
”Probably! Do you want to be my bitch?”
”No.”
”Ha! Liar.”
Then the army showed up.
* * * * *
Maxwell couldn’t tell whether the army was Sk’Va, mistaking him and Jen for Cyk’Nlian saboteurs, or just Cyk’Nlian saboteurs. He held the door for a while, then it was mostly Sik. Everything faded to a red kind of black…
* * * * *
While something messy went on behind her, Jen opened the mailbox back up to find a reply to her letter.
My queen:
It is good and also disheartening to hear that you are well. Would that you were too poorly to go off on such fool errands as messing about with this Kracht character, who from my brief readings into the matter seems to be both a formidable opponent and the type of ally you tend to loathe. Furthermore I would be pleased if some manner of illness befell you that precluded you from going off to such a place as Sk’va, the entry for which keeps retreating to the back pages of my almanac. This is exactly the sort of portent that sets this old heart into an uncomfortably youthful state of excitement.
That you are well and occupied by such troubles amuses you to no end, I have no doubt, and so rather than wasting both your time and mine by burdening you with my own feeble worries (which I assure your Majesty are only a slight diversion from a disgracefully comfortable life of wealth, liquor and females) I shall get to the point. You shall find the Kracht entity on the border of Sk’Va and Cyk’Nl, at the northernmost point of the overlap. The bestiary is quite certain on this, and in fact seems to contain several dozen near-identical entries on the being. This is most unprecedented but some redundancy is to be expected when one keeps adding to a volume for so many years. I shall perhaps make it my duty to reduce such clutter in anticipation of your return to the throne, which several of us here are still gleefully awaiting.
Love and loyalty always,
Your friend and servant,
Moses
The signature was notarized by a cyan and yellow stamp. Jen smiled, kissed the letter on what she imagined to be its cheek, and turned to join in the battle. The feeling of lightness was much more constant now.
For a moment after the shaking started Jen thought that Arkal was channeling Hephaestus or something in his rage; then there was a lurching feeling like an elevator starting up and she sensed a greater trouble.
“Aw, fuck,” said the smaller cop. “Did you do this?” he asked Jen, a hint of a whisper in his voice.
“No, I swear,” answered Jen. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t—” the cop ran over to his partner, who was crumpled unconscious against the wall.
”He’ll be fine,” grunted Arkal, tinkering with a hole-punch and the cap to a bottle of glue. ”His exoskeleton’s crude, but should be able to take a couple knocks.”
“We need to get him out of here,” urged the cop.
“Yeah, but ‘here’ might be a little broad.” Jen patted the cop on the shoulder, which was pretty uncomfortable. “Is there a shelter for this? Anything?”
“The church cathedral is designed to withstand all conventional apocalypses, but it’s closed until the end of the war, due to hypocrisy.”
Jen tried to nod but was interrupted by another lurch. “Take your partner here. There’ll be a riot, but don’t try to police anything. I’m going to go find a douchey guy made of rock and make it tell me the future. Arkal, you coming with?”
”Mmm? No. I’d rather see about this cathedral.” Arkal reluctantly put away his tools and shouldered the unconscious policeman over his shoulder. ”Come along, young one, let’s leave the heroes to their scheming. We have work to do, eh?”
Once Arkal and the rookie had left, Jen hurriedly grabbed some paper on a pen from off the shelves and scrawled down a note:
Moses:
Can’t chat need to find someone no rabbits here so don’t ask name is Krakt (sp?) should be somewhere in a town called Sk’Va please hurry [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img] Jen
She stuffed it in her pocket, dashed out the door and punched the first local she found in the face.
“Where’s the post office?” she demanded. Her hand hurt.
“The hell is your problem?” said the bug. “Listen, I have money, I have eggs, just let me go, I need to get to the cathedral, okay?”
“The post office!”
“That way!” The bug pointed, threw down some money and a stubby-looking sword, and ran off. Jen grabbed everything.
* * * * *
Maxwell woke up covered in chocolate and ooze. Shit, he thought. Another date ruined.
He stumbled out under an upsettingly dim noonday sun and watched two things that could not exactly be described as helicopters drop a couple of bombs on a building two blocks down. One of the walls of the building fell upward, which Maxwell took as a bad sign. Sik, despite having clearly gotten the better deal out of the last fifteen minutes, was upset.
“Listen, Maxwell, a species as largely unintelligent as mine doesn’t survive without some pretty decisive instincts and mine are kind of, hmmmmm, wobbling? I don’t have words. It’s on your head to make sure we don’t die soon.” Maxwell sighed. His mind went forth, then back again on whether Kracht had been bluffing.
Then Jen showed up. ”Maxwell! Imminent apocalypse, mission afoot, please to follow.”
Maxwell found himself obeying.
Walking through Sk’Va at this phase was sort of like walking with those glasses they gave you in school to show you what the world looks like when you’re drunk, except the line he was looking for was his center of gravity. Occasionally he felt himself getting lighter, and other times he felt the ground pushing up against his feet so he almost collapsed. Sik wasn’t helping. “You’ve surely figured out how this wurrks by now. One or two people die, the rest of us get teleported out of here to somewhere safer. This kind of defeatism isn’t like you.” ”Yes it is.” “Well, okay, fine, but normally I’m the one who defeats you, not the rock or the girl with the… face that I’m pretty sure is nothing to get worked up about by standards of human attraction—” “Wow, Sik, your trash talk leaves something to be desired.” “I’m trying to make a point, Max, which is that you’re acting completely outside of any kind of rationality. You have fallen off Maslow’s Pyramid and are running around on the sphinx’s back.” “Listen, Sik, I think I have this worked out. We have three people who are at least biologically alive and three things that were born out of fucking—”
Jen whistled. “I’d like to point out that I can still hear you both. Also, we’re here.” It was a post office. “It’s a post office,” said Maxwell.
”Yes,” said Jen. “It’s a post office.”
* * * * *
On the inside, it was a post office, except empty. “—certain clauses that are mostly in place to stop me from missing out on the fun,” Jen was explaining to Maxwell, “And some of those happen to give me slight advantages, like the one that grants me access to all psychic rapports. Apparently the Grand Battle technically counts as a ‘party or event’ and someone or other is getting paid for me to be here. Shit, maybe it’s Moses. Fuck, maybe it’s me.”
”Who’s Mo—“
”Help me find stamps.” Jen hopped over the counter and found stamps embarrassingly quickly. “Okay never mind, help me find a mailbox.” There were mailboxes right next to the stamps. “Alright never mind, watch the door.” She put the stamp on the letter and put the letter in the mailbox and closed the mailbox.
”Any chance you’re going to tell me what we’re doing here and how long it will take?”grumbled Maxwell
”Contacting someone back home who will know where to find Kracht, who hopefully knows how to make this stop happening. It’ll be about two minutes.”
”You sure this is the fastest way to find him?”
”No, but it’s the most dependable way. I… I assume we’ll make it in time, anyway.”
”Kracht told me I was going to die this round,” sighed Maxwell.
“Yeah I was thinking it would probably be you. Or that other thing that’s a thing. You know that thing?”
”The uh, the round thing? Yeah, I have no idea what’s up with that.”
”Maybe we should kill it. Or maybe it’ll give us a ride home.”
Maxwell shrugged, making Sik hiss a little. ”Nah, if we’re gonna kill anybody this round, we should kill Arkal. It’d be easy.”
”No way, Arkal and I are total bros. Also I need him to make a sword for me so I don’t end up stuck with shit like this,” she added, holding up the stolen sword. I forbid you from killing Arkal.”
”You forbid me? Am I your bitch now?”
”Probably! Do you want to be my bitch?”
”No.”
”Ha! Liar.”
Then the army showed up.
* * * * *
Maxwell couldn’t tell whether the army was Sk’Va, mistaking him and Jen for Cyk’Nlian saboteurs, or just Cyk’Nlian saboteurs. He held the door for a while, then it was mostly Sik. Everything faded to a red kind of black…
* * * * *
While something messy went on behind her, Jen opened the mailbox back up to find a reply to her letter.
My queen:
It is good and also disheartening to hear that you are well. Would that you were too poorly to go off on such fool errands as messing about with this Kracht character, who from my brief readings into the matter seems to be both a formidable opponent and the type of ally you tend to loathe. Furthermore I would be pleased if some manner of illness befell you that precluded you from going off to such a place as Sk’va, the entry for which keeps retreating to the back pages of my almanac. This is exactly the sort of portent that sets this old heart into an uncomfortably youthful state of excitement.
That you are well and occupied by such troubles amuses you to no end, I have no doubt, and so rather than wasting both your time and mine by burdening you with my own feeble worries (which I assure your Majesty are only a slight diversion from a disgracefully comfortable life of wealth, liquor and females) I shall get to the point. You shall find the Kracht entity on the border of Sk’Va and Cyk’Nl, at the northernmost point of the overlap. The bestiary is quite certain on this, and in fact seems to contain several dozen near-identical entries on the being. This is most unprecedented but some redundancy is to be expected when one keeps adding to a volume for so many years. I shall perhaps make it my duty to reduce such clutter in anticipation of your return to the throne, which several of us here are still gleefully awaiting.
Love and loyalty always,
Your friend and servant,
Moses
The signature was notarized by a cyan and yellow stamp. Jen smiled, kissed the letter on what she imagined to be its cheek, and turned to join in the battle. The feeling of lightness was much more constant now.