Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Four: New Battleopolis!]
07-10-2011, 09:08 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Xadrez allowed himself one long, satisfied smirk. It even tasted like victory. He stared up for a long moment into the soulless sky, then somewhat unnecessarily, summoned his implacable beige steed. The Ovoid made no indication it was receptive to the tactician’s words, but Xadrez began his spiel anyway.
I do wonder
why would you let that sickly little liar turn those two against us
my allegiances crossed with her royal sociopathic majesty I can comprehend
she poses no threat to me unless the observer’s wards are so ineffectual
in which case her summons are the least of my concerns
what are you trying to tell me, Xadrez asked an otherwise unremarkable patch of air, glare narrowing a little as if in accusation.
are those two mere fodder
hearts pounding counting down until our trap is laid to ensnare a grandmaster
Im not seeing it, Ovoid
answer me
kracht is dead
kracht is dead and you seemingly can not care less his parting gift was to poison their minds
do you not care any longer
have we already won
answer me, damn you
♫♪~
It was a ghost, perched on the twisted remnants of a corner shop. Xadrez lowered his hand, the fact he’d been yelling at it only now dawning on him. The cloud of notes swirled round into a hunched mockery of the tactician whispering away into his hand, accompanied with a shimmering giggle like the afterechoes of a gong.
Xadrez glared at it. It trumpeted gleefully, having caught his attention, then assumed a more humanoid form and darted a bit a closer. Despite the Ovoid’s protests (at least, that was how Xadrez interpreted the crunching sensation around his arm), he approached slowly – curious. The ghost chirped, leapt over the tactician’s head, before doubling back and chattering with a castanet consternation at Xadrez’ chess pieces.
Xadrez just watched as its quaver-talons struggled with picking up a pawn. Out of nowhere, he felt… not quite homesick - the place had been broken to hell since Scout had disappeared, but that was probably part and parcel of ripping a god from its domain – but yearning for some long-dead and buried ideal. Xadrez’ nostalgia – that was it, he supposed -
came screaming to a halt, beige melting away to the hilt as though the blade burned. Xadrez would’ve conceded it actually did, but the screaming came back with a renewed vigour as though mortally offended he’d been ignoring it for so long.
Xadrez caught the accusing taste of chlorine in the air. The spirit fled with a startled clang, not that the tactician noticed. Everything was howling. There was nothing but the godawful howling of a promise broken.
---
Do you hear something?
"Uh… like, a wail?"
That's the one. Out the way of the humans' camp. I don't suppose you heard about them trying anything, did you Trenton?
Ma'am, I would like to think I of all people would recognise the sound of my dear brother's pompous windbaggery.
Trenton.
Brookie, relax. Last time I went round there, he was brown-nosing one of his higher-ups so he could kick-start his religion amongst the locals like a good missionary. That was yesterday. Either my brother's learnt to keep his trap shut when he's got a good thing going… pfft, who am I kidding. There's no attack planned.
Hmm. A newcomer, then? Where's Zeke?
I do believe I spotted him heading to the roof. Also…
What?
Well, either that awful centipede got his head trapped in a dustbin again, or Symphonia's returned. I can't tell cowbell from cymbals when it comes to her, but it's clear enough something's bothering her.
Oh, for pity's sake. Trenton, get Zeke. I don't care how you do it; if he's pursuing you downstairs with a deathwish that's not that big a deal anyway. Not if it's time for us all to die.
Hypocrisy!
Trenton, I do not have the patience for you right now and you are frankly quite fortunate that I have the fortitude to save you from the existential crises of a vengeful rocket chainsaw steeling herself to meet the screaming banshee possible harbinger of our collective demise. Get off my thrusters. Go get Zeke.
Who died and left you in charge?
Trenton.
It was a joke, Brookie.
---
The Ovoid covered up the knife again just as soon as Symphonia fled, leaving almost-as-painful-aural-afterimages as other noises crept from their hiding places and slowly reclaimed the air again. A five-story apartment block with a glass façade further up the street creaked a little, bits of window still trickling onto the pavement.
The most intact remaining pane was already on its way to asphalt-dusting ruination, and didn't have quite the effect Brooklyn had been gunning for when she roared through. He didn't see a rocket-propelled chainsaw with a geriatric ghost jammed in there, however.
Xadrez saw a youthful, bright, and belligerent soul which took in its adversary, then appeared to get ready to verbally abuse him to kingdom come.
Yes, it didn't escape the tactician's attention said soul lived in a rather pointy, flame-spewing contraption. But Xadrez knew it was what was on the inside that counted.
Hello little one
would you be one of the older ones the observer mentioned
or is this town dwelt in exclusively by the dead
Oh, awesome. You speak ghost. Spectrish? Spiritese? Never mind that. Observer's your Grandmaster?
yes ventured Xadrez.
And you're totally sure your last round ended? No inexplicable skip?
Your comprehension of my circumstances leads me to assume you are also in a grand battle
if this is correct then as kindred spirits in death in battle I will assist your enquires
yes the observer is my grandmaster
yes the round ended this is the locale set for myself and my three opponents to purportedly fight in
now please explain to me the relevance and perhaps your revelation
The chainsaw couldn't grin, but the spirit couldn't have grinned wider if the machine had slashed off her own corporeal jaw.
Oh, shit. Excuse my language, but holy. Shit.
If you're right – I think you're right, I believe you, I guess, but I suppose it comes down to if Zeke's right, this is it. It's begun. Armageddon. The end of days. Wow, I mean I wasn't ever all that optimistic about humanity but I never figured I'd actually get to see it myself… wait. What's your name again, Mr. beige-handed doombringer?
Xadrez
Ok, Xadrez. Sorry. It's just… you're here. You're actually here. One of you or your friends are going to die. Do you know what happens then?
I suspect little chattering one that you will illuminate me on the matter shortly
Everybody dies. No tomorrow. See that? The sun up there? That's the last sun I'm going to see. Isn't it amazing? Sorry, I'm getting emotional. Still new at this, get it? Zeke. I'll take you to Zeke. He'll explain. Please. Maybe you've got better things to do, but this is my last day to live. Or might be. I don't know yet, but Zeke can tell us all for sure. I know we just met, but please. Come with me. Talk to Zeke.
Xadrez allowed himself one long, satisfied smirk. It even tasted like victory. He stared up for a long moment into the soulless sky, then somewhat unnecessarily, summoned his implacable beige steed. The Ovoid made no indication it was receptive to the tactician’s words, but Xadrez began his spiel anyway.
I do wonder
why would you let that sickly little liar turn those two against us
my allegiances crossed with her royal sociopathic majesty I can comprehend
she poses no threat to me unless the observer’s wards are so ineffectual
in which case her summons are the least of my concerns
what are you trying to tell me, Xadrez asked an otherwise unremarkable patch of air, glare narrowing a little as if in accusation.
are those two mere fodder
hearts pounding counting down until our trap is laid to ensnare a grandmaster
Im not seeing it, Ovoid
answer me
kracht is dead
kracht is dead and you seemingly can not care less his parting gift was to poison their minds
do you not care any longer
have we already won
answer me, damn you
♫♪~
It was a ghost, perched on the twisted remnants of a corner shop. Xadrez lowered his hand, the fact he’d been yelling at it only now dawning on him. The cloud of notes swirled round into a hunched mockery of the tactician whispering away into his hand, accompanied with a shimmering giggle like the afterechoes of a gong.
Xadrez glared at it. It trumpeted gleefully, having caught his attention, then assumed a more humanoid form and darted a bit a closer. Despite the Ovoid’s protests (at least, that was how Xadrez interpreted the crunching sensation around his arm), he approached slowly – curious. The ghost chirped, leapt over the tactician’s head, before doubling back and chattering with a castanet consternation at Xadrez’ chess pieces.
Xadrez just watched as its quaver-talons struggled with picking up a pawn. Out of nowhere, he felt… not quite homesick - the place had been broken to hell since Scout had disappeared, but that was probably part and parcel of ripping a god from its domain – but yearning for some long-dead and buried ideal. Xadrez’ nostalgia – that was it, he supposed -
came screaming to a halt, beige melting away to the hilt as though the blade burned. Xadrez would’ve conceded it actually did, but the screaming came back with a renewed vigour as though mortally offended he’d been ignoring it for so long.
Xadrez caught the accusing taste of chlorine in the air. The spirit fled with a startled clang, not that the tactician noticed. Everything was howling. There was nothing but the godawful howling of a promise broken.
---
Do you hear something?
"Uh… like, a wail?"
That's the one. Out the way of the humans' camp. I don't suppose you heard about them trying anything, did you Trenton?
Ma'am, I would like to think I of all people would recognise the sound of my dear brother's pompous windbaggery.
Trenton.
Brookie, relax. Last time I went round there, he was brown-nosing one of his higher-ups so he could kick-start his religion amongst the locals like a good missionary. That was yesterday. Either my brother's learnt to keep his trap shut when he's got a good thing going… pfft, who am I kidding. There's no attack planned.
Hmm. A newcomer, then? Where's Zeke?
I do believe I spotted him heading to the roof. Also…
What?
Well, either that awful centipede got his head trapped in a dustbin again, or Symphonia's returned. I can't tell cowbell from cymbals when it comes to her, but it's clear enough something's bothering her.
Oh, for pity's sake. Trenton, get Zeke. I don't care how you do it; if he's pursuing you downstairs with a deathwish that's not that big a deal anyway. Not if it's time for us all to die.
Hypocrisy!
Trenton, I do not have the patience for you right now and you are frankly quite fortunate that I have the fortitude to save you from the existential crises of a vengeful rocket chainsaw steeling herself to meet the screaming banshee possible harbinger of our collective demise. Get off my thrusters. Go get Zeke.
Who died and left you in charge?
Trenton.
It was a joke, Brookie.
---
The Ovoid covered up the knife again just as soon as Symphonia fled, leaving almost-as-painful-aural-afterimages as other noises crept from their hiding places and slowly reclaimed the air again. A five-story apartment block with a glass façade further up the street creaked a little, bits of window still trickling onto the pavement.
The most intact remaining pane was already on its way to asphalt-dusting ruination, and didn't have quite the effect Brooklyn had been gunning for when she roared through. He didn't see a rocket-propelled chainsaw with a geriatric ghost jammed in there, however.
Xadrez saw a youthful, bright, and belligerent soul which took in its adversary, then appeared to get ready to verbally abuse him to kingdom come.
Yes, it didn't escape the tactician's attention said soul lived in a rather pointy, flame-spewing contraption. But Xadrez knew it was what was on the inside that counted.
Hello little one
would you be one of the older ones the observer mentioned
or is this town dwelt in exclusively by the dead
Oh, awesome. You speak ghost. Spectrish? Spiritese? Never mind that. Observer's your Grandmaster?
yes ventured Xadrez.
And you're totally sure your last round ended? No inexplicable skip?
Your comprehension of my circumstances leads me to assume you are also in a grand battle
if this is correct then as kindred spirits in death in battle I will assist your enquires
yes the observer is my grandmaster
yes the round ended this is the locale set for myself and my three opponents to purportedly fight in
now please explain to me the relevance and perhaps your revelation
The chainsaw couldn't grin, but the spirit couldn't have grinned wider if the machine had slashed off her own corporeal jaw.
Oh, shit. Excuse my language, but holy. Shit.
If you're right – I think you're right, I believe you, I guess, but I suppose it comes down to if Zeke's right, this is it. It's begun. Armageddon. The end of days. Wow, I mean I wasn't ever all that optimistic about humanity but I never figured I'd actually get to see it myself… wait. What's your name again, Mr. beige-handed doombringer?
Xadrez
Ok, Xadrez. Sorry. It's just… you're here. You're actually here. One of you or your friends are going to die. Do you know what happens then?
I suspect little chattering one that you will illuminate me on the matter shortly
Everybody dies. No tomorrow. See that? The sun up there? That's the last sun I'm going to see. Isn't it amazing? Sorry, I'm getting emotional. Still new at this, get it? Zeke. I'll take you to Zeke. He'll explain. Please. Maybe you've got better things to do, but this is my last day to live. Or might be. I don't know yet, but Zeke can tell us all for sure. I know we just met, but please. Come with me. Talk to Zeke.
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