Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Two: Sk'va!]
10-08-2010, 05:32 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
It was probably the greenshift that saved Jen from being completely engulfed in the Tan; still, she felt the spell cracking like so much tissue paper in the brief moment she spent within the place where the Ovoid is. That was the only thing she could feel or sense at all, except for a pervasive nauseating chaos and something that might have been an eye.
She tumbled out into the museum, banging her head rather sharply against the engine. Arkal didn’t follow.
Kracht clicked his tongue. ”It’s going to happen here,” he said cheerfully. ”Watch. Maxwell will come back with Arkal, and the Ovoid’s watching from out there somewhere, and then there will be six. I know the first round didn’t really get this across, but it’s always really beautiful when it all comes together.”
”Shut up.” Jen rubbed her head angrily. “Xadrez, he was right, wasn’t he? I can’t save the cities.”
Xadrez nodded somberly. And with the cathedral destroyed, there will be no survivors
I’m sorry
”No you’re not.” She sighed. “I guess we have to kill someone pretty soon.”
I’m working on it
”We have about five minutes. And it looks like it’s going to be—“
That was when Maxwell and Arkal burst in, beating upon each other yet again. Maxwell’s eyes looked dim and the apathetic look on his face gave Jen a chill. Sikarius, on the other hand, looked more excited than he’d ever been, shouting psychic encouragement at Maxwell with an aura that sounded quite removed from his usual anger. Sikarius was… excited? It was bizarre and Jen couldn’t quite concentrate enough to make the connection to the Bio Wyrm sticking out of Kracht’s belly like some kind of xenogenetic umbilical cord.
Kracht stepped between the two combatants. ”Enough. Let’s settle this a little less mindlessly, shall—“
It might seem a bit obvious at this point in the fracas to say that a lot of things began happening at once, because a lot of things had already been happening at once for some time, but there is no better way to describe the exact moment in which the last engine fails and everyone goes into freefall while at the same moment a dragon teleports into the room, wearing beige reins and saddle and ridden by a terrified looking clone in a jumpsuit. So, basically, a lot of things began happening at once and then the dragon bit Jen’s arm off.
The dragon savored Jen’s arm for a few seconds then nommed on her head to get her to stop screaming, then worked in on the meaty bits, crushing her spine into a shape that was not quite close enough to the Dragon’s Bane sigil to have any effect.
”Oh,” said Kracht. The clone continued to scream curses at the entity that he was sure was watching the situation with great amusement. Xadrez grabbed onto the engine. Everyone else bounced off the ceiling and began to bounce around at awkward enough angles that they couldn’t see Jen die.
* * * * * *
The Observer put down his popcorn and raised his hand in the air.
* * * * * *
Xadrez felt himself being observed. It took him about .2 seconds to come to a decision, realize it was probably the wrong decision, realize that he was being emotionally manipulated by the radiation coming off of Kracht and then make the same decision anyway. He took advantage of the confusion to snatch his knife away from Sikarius, carved the word
* * * * * *
The Observer nodded, lowered his hand, and took a sip of his Sierra Mist. First Weo with the clones, now this. He would probably need to make a few new rules regulating this type of behavior.
Still, it was awesome. The Observer had no complaints.
* * * * * *
Sikarius saw the dead human lying on the floor and felt the boy wresting back control of his own body, possibly for the first time since puberty. Sik’s will was still the stronger: his fleeting hope of kinship would outweigh Maxwell’s grief for some time now.
The gamemaster and the rock exchanged a meaningful glance while the bearded man attempted to wrangle the lizard from midair. To his dismay, Sikarius didn’t see an immediate opportunity to kill anything; instead, just to be bothersome, he pointed Maxwell’s attention over to a button on the large mechanism in the middle of the room.
The engine started up, restoring some sense of gravity. Sik directed Maxwell’s body under him and splattered comfortably all over the floor. Everyone else sunk to the ground, except the dragon, which kept its wings flapping obnoxiously to stay in midair.
Sik was all set to begin killing things again—starting with the patronizing bearded nuisance—when he saw the other wyrm (the female!) being thrown through the air. She landed on top of Jen, and then sprang to life.
One of Sik’s sensitive middle organs sank. “Fine,” he thought to himself, though Maxwell probably heard it too. “I’m stuck with you, girl.” He felt sick.
* * * * *
Our heroine simply cannot remain conscious for long, can she, now? At the prodding of a new friend, a green lightbulb goes on in an empty room, and further dreams ensue:
It was a dark night in Toronto lit up by the beautiful whirlwind of flames that seemed to be taking the tenement building up into heaven like Elijah. Kara watched, and the orange light made her green hair appear a nearly perfect golden black.
Jen lay with her head on Carlyle’s ankles and enjoyed the peace of the fire and the sirens. It had been a long day, and a long five years.
“So,” she said. “How’s regular life been?”
Carlyle sat up and furrowed his brow. “Regular?”
“Hectic,” said Kara.
“’Hectic.’ I scoff at your hectic.” Jen reached out her hand and Kara grabbed it amiably, helping her up. “I should… go soon.”
Kara hugged Jen. “We have a whole summer vacation ahead of us,” she mewed, shoving her hair into Jen’s face. “You’re always welcome.”
“Seriously, Tull, come visit,” said Carlyle, averting eye contact. “There’s no use being a nomad if you don’t have a home to run away from.”
“Call me ‘Tull’ again and I’ll keep calling you ‘Carl,’ Carl.” Jen smiled, and pointed out across the park. “Anyway, my home is out there somewhere. …But maybe. If I’m in the neighborhood.”
“Be in the neighborhood!” Kara punched Jen in the shoulder with genuine frustration. Jen smelled smoke. Carlyle touched her shoulder and the smell dissipated.
A commanding voice boomed from a silhouette in the distance. “Friends! The bus departs on the hour! If we find ourselves tardy once again, Sub Zero has sworn to kill thy companions Abraham and Adelina! We must make haste!”
Carlyle turned back to Jen and shrugged. “Back to school again. You know we all envy you for getting out.”
Jen tried to smile and broke into tears, desperately hugging Carlyle.
“I love you guys,” she gasped out. “Both of you.” She counted to seven then addressed her other best friend, Fanthalion, who had been there the whole time. “And you know I love you most of all, Fanthalion.”
”Don’t worry, Jen,” said Fanthalion. ”I’m not going anywhere.”
Jen watched Kara and Carlyle depart, hand in hand, never once looking back over their shoulders. When they thought she wasn’t looking, they shared a quick kiss. “Sorry for making a scene,” she told Fanthalion. “It’s just… there are so many lives to live, you know? Sometimes I wish I could never have to choose.”
”I can do that for you, Jen,” said Fanthalion. ”That’s what friends do for each other. Dominance and submission.” She tied her hair back; Fanta was too tall for her own good, and always gave off an impression of glamour, dressed in red and white. She was the kind of friend you always wanted looking over your shoulder. ”Jen, before we leave, I have to ask you a few questions. You know the battle starts in two weeks, right?”
“Yeah. I get to meet them all.”
”In two weeks. That’s why we can’t have you being dead right now, okay?”
“I don’t—“ Jen wiped away a tear. “I don’t want to be dead. Really.”
”Of course not. And I want to help you, I really do. But with all this magic stuff you’ve gotten caught up in, it looks like someone’s scribbled over your DNA with fingerpaint.”
Jen laughed and sniffled. “Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve been hitting the spellbooks a little hard, haven’t I?”
”It’s okay Jen, you never have to tell me you’re sorry. I’m your best friend, right? I understand what you’re going through better than anyone.”
Jen hesitated. “…Yeah, of course, Fanta. Sorry, I’m just a little shaken.”
”Okay, then, we probably won’t be done until round three starts but we can get the bulk of you fixed up now. First things first: how many eyes are you supposed to have?”
* * * * *
So while the death was going on, Fanthalion burrowed into the girl and went to work. She had to move quickly: without the host up and active, there was no chance of feeding, and years in stasis had made the wyrm very, very hungry…
It was probably the greenshift that saved Jen from being completely engulfed in the Tan; still, she felt the spell cracking like so much tissue paper in the brief moment she spent within the place where the Ovoid is. That was the only thing she could feel or sense at all, except for a pervasive nauseating chaos and something that might have been an eye.
She tumbled out into the museum, banging her head rather sharply against the engine. Arkal didn’t follow.
Kracht clicked his tongue. ”It’s going to happen here,” he said cheerfully. ”Watch. Maxwell will come back with Arkal, and the Ovoid’s watching from out there somewhere, and then there will be six. I know the first round didn’t really get this across, but it’s always really beautiful when it all comes together.”
”Shut up.” Jen rubbed her head angrily. “Xadrez, he was right, wasn’t he? I can’t save the cities.”
Xadrez nodded somberly. And with the cathedral destroyed, there will be no survivors
I’m sorry
”No you’re not.” She sighed. “I guess we have to kill someone pretty soon.”
I’m working on it
”We have about five minutes. And it looks like it’s going to be—“
That was when Maxwell and Arkal burst in, beating upon each other yet again. Maxwell’s eyes looked dim and the apathetic look on his face gave Jen a chill. Sikarius, on the other hand, looked more excited than he’d ever been, shouting psychic encouragement at Maxwell with an aura that sounded quite removed from his usual anger. Sikarius was… excited? It was bizarre and Jen couldn’t quite concentrate enough to make the connection to the Bio Wyrm sticking out of Kracht’s belly like some kind of xenogenetic umbilical cord.
Kracht stepped between the two combatants. ”Enough. Let’s settle this a little less mindlessly, shall—“
It might seem a bit obvious at this point in the fracas to say that a lot of things began happening at once, because a lot of things had already been happening at once for some time, but there is no better way to describe the exact moment in which the last engine fails and everyone goes into freefall while at the same moment a dragon teleports into the room, wearing beige reins and saddle and ridden by a terrified looking clone in a jumpsuit. So, basically, a lot of things began happening at once and then the dragon bit Jen’s arm off.
The dragon savored Jen’s arm for a few seconds then nommed on her head to get her to stop screaming, then worked in on the meaty bits, crushing her spine into a shape that was not quite close enough to the Dragon’s Bane sigil to have any effect.
”Oh,” said Kracht. The clone continued to scream curses at the entity that he was sure was watching the situation with great amusement. Xadrez grabbed onto the engine. Everyone else bounced off the ceiling and began to bounce around at awkward enough angles that they couldn’t see Jen die.
* * * * * *
The Observer put down his popcorn and raised his hand in the air.
* * * * * *
Xadrez felt himself being observed. It took him about .2 seconds to come to a decision, realize it was probably the wrong decision, realize that he was being emotionally manipulated by the radiation coming off of Kracht and then make the same decision anyway. He took advantage of the confusion to snatch his knife away from Sikarius, carved the word
WAIT
into the wall and then stared angrily at the corner where he would have put a camera if he were the one observing.* * * * * *
The Observer nodded, lowered his hand, and took a sip of his Sierra Mist. First Weo with the clones, now this. He would probably need to make a few new rules regulating this type of behavior.
Still, it was awesome. The Observer had no complaints.
* * * * * *
Sikarius saw the dead human lying on the floor and felt the boy wresting back control of his own body, possibly for the first time since puberty. Sik’s will was still the stronger: his fleeting hope of kinship would outweigh Maxwell’s grief for some time now.
The gamemaster and the rock exchanged a meaningful glance while the bearded man attempted to wrangle the lizard from midair. To his dismay, Sikarius didn’t see an immediate opportunity to kill anything; instead, just to be bothersome, he pointed Maxwell’s attention over to a button on the large mechanism in the middle of the room.
The engine started up, restoring some sense of gravity. Sik directed Maxwell’s body under him and splattered comfortably all over the floor. Everyone else sunk to the ground, except the dragon, which kept its wings flapping obnoxiously to stay in midair.
Sik was all set to begin killing things again—starting with the patronizing bearded nuisance—when he saw the other wyrm (the female!) being thrown through the air. She landed on top of Jen, and then sprang to life.
One of Sik’s sensitive middle organs sank. “Fine,” he thought to himself, though Maxwell probably heard it too. “I’m stuck with you, girl.” He felt sick.
* * * * *
MEANWHILE
Our heroine simply cannot remain conscious for long, can she, now? At the prodding of a new friend, a green lightbulb goes on in an empty room, and further dreams ensue:
It was a dark night in Toronto lit up by the beautiful whirlwind of flames that seemed to be taking the tenement building up into heaven like Elijah. Kara watched, and the orange light made her green hair appear a nearly perfect golden black.
Jen lay with her head on Carlyle’s ankles and enjoyed the peace of the fire and the sirens. It had been a long day, and a long five years.
“So,” she said. “How’s regular life been?”
Carlyle sat up and furrowed his brow. “Regular?”
“Hectic,” said Kara.
“’Hectic.’ I scoff at your hectic.” Jen reached out her hand and Kara grabbed it amiably, helping her up. “I should… go soon.”
Kara hugged Jen. “We have a whole summer vacation ahead of us,” she mewed, shoving her hair into Jen’s face. “You’re always welcome.”
“Seriously, Tull, come visit,” said Carlyle, averting eye contact. “There’s no use being a nomad if you don’t have a home to run away from.”
“Call me ‘Tull’ again and I’ll keep calling you ‘Carl,’ Carl.” Jen smiled, and pointed out across the park. “Anyway, my home is out there somewhere. …But maybe. If I’m in the neighborhood.”
“Be in the neighborhood!” Kara punched Jen in the shoulder with genuine frustration. Jen smelled smoke. Carlyle touched her shoulder and the smell dissipated.
A commanding voice boomed from a silhouette in the distance. “Friends! The bus departs on the hour! If we find ourselves tardy once again, Sub Zero has sworn to kill thy companions Abraham and Adelina! We must make haste!”
Carlyle turned back to Jen and shrugged. “Back to school again. You know we all envy you for getting out.”
Jen tried to smile and broke into tears, desperately hugging Carlyle.
“I love you guys,” she gasped out. “Both of you.” She counted to seven then addressed her other best friend, Fanthalion, who had been there the whole time. “And you know I love you most of all, Fanthalion.”
”Don’t worry, Jen,” said Fanthalion. ”I’m not going anywhere.”
Jen watched Kara and Carlyle depart, hand in hand, never once looking back over their shoulders. When they thought she wasn’t looking, they shared a quick kiss. “Sorry for making a scene,” she told Fanthalion. “It’s just… there are so many lives to live, you know? Sometimes I wish I could never have to choose.”
”I can do that for you, Jen,” said Fanthalion. ”That’s what friends do for each other. Dominance and submission.” She tied her hair back; Fanta was too tall for her own good, and always gave off an impression of glamour, dressed in red and white. She was the kind of friend you always wanted looking over your shoulder. ”Jen, before we leave, I have to ask you a few questions. You know the battle starts in two weeks, right?”
“Yeah. I get to meet them all.”
”In two weeks. That’s why we can’t have you being dead right now, okay?”
“I don’t—“ Jen wiped away a tear. “I don’t want to be dead. Really.”
”Of course not. And I want to help you, I really do. But with all this magic stuff you’ve gotten caught up in, it looks like someone’s scribbled over your DNA with fingerpaint.”
Jen laughed and sniffled. “Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve been hitting the spellbooks a little hard, haven’t I?”
”It’s okay Jen, you never have to tell me you’re sorry. I’m your best friend, right? I understand what you’re going through better than anyone.”
Jen hesitated. “…Yeah, of course, Fanta. Sorry, I’m just a little shaken.”
”Okay, then, we probably won’t be done until round three starts but we can get the bulk of you fixed up now. First things first: how many eyes are you supposed to have?”
* * * * *
So while the death was going on, Fanthalion burrowed into the girl and went to work. She had to move quickly: without the host up and active, there was no chance of feeding, and years in stasis had made the wyrm very, very hungry…