Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Three: Water...place!]
04-25-2011, 12:43 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
“Ok, sir, that order seems to have been processed – but whatever's in there's gutted the hox-box. I'll send an order through to bail ou-”
“Haaaaave you locaaaated the hear-ar-ar-ar-ar-”
“No, uh, no change. Sir. It's still online. Just... missing in action. Still.” The organelle, understandably scared out of his wits, couldn't tear his gaze away from the twitching golden nucleolus Xadrez held at arm's length. The organelle had heard the Probiotes often worked in strange ways, but the tan fingers crush-gripping the foreman's skull were a bit much for the poor Synapse. Still. The ghost looked a bit like the top half of an Synapse himself, and if that weak familiarity was what the organelle needed to stay professional, so be it.
But bowels, if that knife-like tongue nestled in the Nucleolus' throat didn't give him the creeps.
“A squadron left the Lymph Node not a heartbeat ago. If anyone can trace it, sir, they can.”
Xadrez put the foreman down, or at least took the weight off his arm by lowering the toad to its feet. He caught himeslf plotting Kracht's demise again, and hissed. The lackey nearly leapt out of his skin in fright , and did it again when Xadrez released the nucleolus. It curled up on the floor with tiny wailing noise, similar to the knife, while it pressed its sickly hands to its ears. The noise made Xadrez irritated. And bored. Boredom had a habit of leading Xadrez on years-long vendettas over dislikes that had formed over the space of hours. He sighed; there were more important things vying for the spirit's attention. A monster to slay. A heart to bleed dry. A throne to usurp, or secure. The distinction seemed unimportant.
Xadrez picked up a chess piece that needed no further shaping, and scratched at it absently. He didn't particularly like this new arrangement of the Ovoid's, but couldn't complain after what he'd done to the hydra. His hands still burnt like fire where they met the knife, ceaselessly shrieking beneath the shameful blush of beige. The tactician tried for a further moment to get the green knight's tail right, before putting it down again with the tiniest noise of frustration.
It wasn't the same. Where the knife incised, the Ovoid punctured. Where it slitted, it now gouged. It spasmed and phased and plasticked about entirely separate from Xadrez' volition. It was penance, an ugly tan reminder of the tactician's blunder.
He wanted Kracht bested, and to rejoin Scout's side. Whether they joined the agents of the Network in uprising against the Grandmasters, or returned home to rebuild, Xadrez didn't care. To find Scout was the end to truly justify all the means necessary. An end goal so simple it was a wonder everyone else wasn't striving for it with the tactician.
“Boost distrurgh-” garbled the Synapse as Xadrez jammed his hand through the back of its head, “disghtribushggggon to thaaa-a-a-a wings”.
Whether the wings became a haemorrhaging site for Cyk'nl's power supply or not were mostly immaterial to Xadrez by now. He exited the Nucelolus' office and headed toward what could be be described as the “basement”. A pair of organelles threw open the doors, slamming them shut again behind Xadrez to muffle the shrieking.
The spirit hovered through the reddish dark, stopping in the dead centre of the pericardial lid. Like an enormous manhole cover, the organelles had only succeeded in pulling it off a sliver before the Ovoid's knife-induced screams from within pierced the air.
The shaft should've provided direct access to the heart and neural cloud, but the Ovoid and the Quest and Scout knew what other parties had gotten their insidious tendrils in everything, leaving Xadrez to shiver in his dagger's howling beratings instead. With the room this dark, and the screams so enveloping, Xadrez could almost pretend the Ovoid had no part in it. The Ovoid would lead him to the heart when everything aligned - which by the tactician's mapping could be influenced by up to fourteen key factors, but probably couldn't happen until Sprocer had softened up the Virate.
Which, according to Xadrez and the dragonfly's calculations, wasn't going to be much longer.
“Ok, sir, that order seems to have been processed – but whatever's in there's gutted the hox-box. I'll send an order through to bail ou-”
“Haaaaave you locaaaated the hear-ar-ar-ar-ar-”
“No, uh, no change. Sir. It's still online. Just... missing in action. Still.” The organelle, understandably scared out of his wits, couldn't tear his gaze away from the twitching golden nucleolus Xadrez held at arm's length. The organelle had heard the Probiotes often worked in strange ways, but the tan fingers crush-gripping the foreman's skull were a bit much for the poor Synapse. Still. The ghost looked a bit like the top half of an Synapse himself, and if that weak familiarity was what the organelle needed to stay professional, so be it.
But bowels, if that knife-like tongue nestled in the Nucleolus' throat didn't give him the creeps.
“A squadron left the Lymph Node not a heartbeat ago. If anyone can trace it, sir, they can.”
Xadrez put the foreman down, or at least took the weight off his arm by lowering the toad to its feet. He caught himeslf plotting Kracht's demise again, and hissed. The lackey nearly leapt out of his skin in fright , and did it again when Xadrez released the nucleolus. It curled up on the floor with tiny wailing noise, similar to the knife, while it pressed its sickly hands to its ears. The noise made Xadrez irritated. And bored. Boredom had a habit of leading Xadrez on years-long vendettas over dislikes that had formed over the space of hours. He sighed; there were more important things vying for the spirit's attention. A monster to slay. A heart to bleed dry. A throne to usurp, or secure. The distinction seemed unimportant.
Xadrez picked up a chess piece that needed no further shaping, and scratched at it absently. He didn't particularly like this new arrangement of the Ovoid's, but couldn't complain after what he'd done to the hydra. His hands still burnt like fire where they met the knife, ceaselessly shrieking beneath the shameful blush of beige. The tactician tried for a further moment to get the green knight's tail right, before putting it down again with the tiniest noise of frustration.
It wasn't the same. Where the knife incised, the Ovoid punctured. Where it slitted, it now gouged. It spasmed and phased and plasticked about entirely separate from Xadrez' volition. It was penance, an ugly tan reminder of the tactician's blunder.
He wanted Kracht bested, and to rejoin Scout's side. Whether they joined the agents of the Network in uprising against the Grandmasters, or returned home to rebuild, Xadrez didn't care. To find Scout was the end to truly justify all the means necessary. An end goal so simple it was a wonder everyone else wasn't striving for it with the tactician.
“Boost distrurgh-” garbled the Synapse as Xadrez jammed his hand through the back of its head, “disghtribushggggon to thaaa-a-a-a wings”.
Whether the wings became a haemorrhaging site for Cyk'nl's power supply or not were mostly immaterial to Xadrez by now. He exited the Nucelolus' office and headed toward what could be be described as the “basement”. A pair of organelles threw open the doors, slamming them shut again behind Xadrez to muffle the shrieking.
The spirit hovered through the reddish dark, stopping in the dead centre of the pericardial lid. Like an enormous manhole cover, the organelles had only succeeded in pulling it off a sliver before the Ovoid's knife-induced screams from within pierced the air.
The shaft should've provided direct access to the heart and neural cloud, but the Ovoid and the Quest and Scout knew what other parties had gotten their insidious tendrils in everything, leaving Xadrez to shiver in his dagger's howling beratings instead. With the room this dark, and the screams so enveloping, Xadrez could almost pretend the Ovoid had no part in it. The Ovoid would lead him to the heart when everything aligned - which by the tactician's mapping could be influenced by up to fourteen key factors, but probably couldn't happen until Sprocer had softened up the Virate.
Which, according to Xadrez and the dragonfly's calculations, wasn't going to be much longer.
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