Re: The Phenomenal Fracas! (GBS2G6): [Round One: Afterparty]
09-19-2010, 06:21 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.
As far as the horizon stretched, the pipes stretched too. Great hanging lines, crisscrossing streaks between the darkened heights of the Far Periphery, they held both your attention and your indifference in the same glance. For though one may see the pipes, and clearly, they will not look beyond the visual tangle and sway of them.
It is in this confusion that five figures hide from sight. They perch side by side, apparently indifferent to the dizzying drop they taunt with their precarious positions. One says a few words, and a burst of laughter follows only to be snatched away by the great swathes of wind that shoot past them.
But go a little closer, close enough as to be one of these beings dressed so smartly in black, and you would hear as they heard. Their conversation goes a little like this:
“Ha, that was a close one. The psychobitch nearly got her claws on the Sandman,” a broad man wearing white mask of a ram crows. “Getting nervous, Fourth?”
An anxious looking man, shunted to the end of the line, twitches at the sound of his title. “N-no. He’s a bounty hunter, he probably deals with crazies like these all the time. He’ll be fine.” He shoots a venomous glance down the line through the holes in his ant mask. “Your trash can is hardly doing any better, Second.”
Second simply throws his head back and roars with laughter, his sharpened teeth only adding to the macabre sense of theatre. “She’s the smart one, dimwit! Not poking her nose in where it can get bloodied, you see. No, she’ll just let them weaken and thin themselves out. Who’ll be laughing when she calmly slides in and takes the victory with all the ease in the world? I shall, dear Ant. Then I’ll finally have the affluence to get your worthless slimy presence kicked out of this otherwise pleasant company,” Second said, his eyes shining and his magnificent teeth bared.
“Bold words, dear Ram.”
The words produced a spectacular effect upon Second. In the blink of an eye the mirth drained from his face, leaving behind an expression of purest dread frozen around a grimace where the grin had once been. He vaguely grasped for words, but the sudden stiffness of his features,, paired with his shock, constricted him slightly. Three of the other suited figures on the pipe disregarded the unfortunate man completely, and turned to smile at the stunning woman lounging in the space previously accommodated by a fifth suit.
“Vi-victoria-“
“That’s Seventh to you, Ram.”
Clearly uninterested in the politics, a fox-masked man leaned forward from the middle of the row. “What of Sixth? And where did Fifth go, Victoria?”
She smiled at him archly. “Sixth has a comfortable vantage point of the preceding with the scientist and the one I betted on. He seemed more than happy to let me visit. And Spider wanted to get a closer look at the combatants, First. Allegedly it’s getting interesting for his part of the wager, and we’re missing out on the action up here in the wind. But my charge is being nothing but frightfully boring. It seems savages do not bloom well in the constraints of polite society.”
First snorted. “As if we didn’t know that already.” Despite the outburst, his features quickly settled into a more glum expression. “Mind you, my girl isn’t being particularly sharp either. Just a lot of faffing around, it seems to me, but at least she has an interesting method. Could get interesting quickly.”
Silence fell as the figures became more absorbed in whatever it was they could see through their mysterious means. Soft sighs and short laughs punctuated the quiet with each small victory and defeat of the fighters, but eventually even those stopped coming.
Suddenly the last man on the pipe who had yet to speak shook himself from his stupor. His mask was simple and held the pleasing design of a content ox. His silver hair shone softly in whatever light permeated this dark place.
“So much cloth,” he muttered, then became distracted by something in another direction entirely. An elderly chortle escaped his portly figure. “Why, would you look at that. It seems the scientist is trying to escape. As nothing more than an astral projection, poor lad!”
Smiles and laughter rippled along the perched line.
“So he is, dear Third!”
“What a fool!”
“So they still haven’t realized? They are even more talentless than I took them to be,” Victoria declared dryly.
Third smiled ruefully and shook his head.
“It is rather splendidly done, my dear.”
“Oh, undoubtedly! The Master’s skills are unsurpassed! Unlimited, even!”
Third gave Victoria a level stare.
“Then why bother with this fiddly trickery? Why not bring them here physically?”
She faltered. Third smiled back rather patiently, but she simply turned her head and fell silent.
He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the other three.
“No. They will notice soon. Not immediately, but at the very least the god bound to the savage will begun to suspect. And not before this hubbub has died down.” He gestured in the direction of the fight. “But it is no large loss. The Prestidigitator will simply smile, pat them on the head, and transport them fully next time, draining of strength be damned. Although…”
“Astral projection is divided from full teleportation merely by the ability to direct willpower,” the nervous Fourth finished. “I- I’ll be the first to admit that those branches of mysticism were never my strong point, but even a novice knows such a thing. It could be a risk-“
Third waved a hand. “Calm yourself, my dear man. Even if they were to suddenly become masters of such magic, the Prestidigitator is quick. When you have seen all the wonders of an entire civilization in the blink of an eye, the real pace of life becomes something of a drag. They won’t be able to escape before he terminates the process.”
An uncomfortable quiet fell.
Until Second piped up at least.
“Hey! What’s the problem? Even if they get out, it’s just one more loser of the wager!”
Gales of laughter escaped from the Gentlemen of the Prestidigitator and was quickly stolen by the wind, caused more by the release of tension than any real humour that could be found. They were still laughing as they faded to shadows, and yet still as they vanished while the explosion below burst into being.
It is in this confusion that five figures hide from sight. They perch side by side, apparently indifferent to the dizzying drop they taunt with their precarious positions. One says a few words, and a burst of laughter follows only to be snatched away by the great swathes of wind that shoot past them.
But go a little closer, close enough as to be one of these beings dressed so smartly in black, and you would hear as they heard. Their conversation goes a little like this:
“Ha, that was a close one. The psychobitch nearly got her claws on the Sandman,” a broad man wearing white mask of a ram crows. “Getting nervous, Fourth?”
An anxious looking man, shunted to the end of the line, twitches at the sound of his title. “N-no. He’s a bounty hunter, he probably deals with crazies like these all the time. He’ll be fine.” He shoots a venomous glance down the line through the holes in his ant mask. “Your trash can is hardly doing any better, Second.”
Second simply throws his head back and roars with laughter, his sharpened teeth only adding to the macabre sense of theatre. “She’s the smart one, dimwit! Not poking her nose in where it can get bloodied, you see. No, she’ll just let them weaken and thin themselves out. Who’ll be laughing when she calmly slides in and takes the victory with all the ease in the world? I shall, dear Ant. Then I’ll finally have the affluence to get your worthless slimy presence kicked out of this otherwise pleasant company,” Second said, his eyes shining and his magnificent teeth bared.
“Bold words, dear Ram.”
The words produced a spectacular effect upon Second. In the blink of an eye the mirth drained from his face, leaving behind an expression of purest dread frozen around a grimace where the grin had once been. He vaguely grasped for words, but the sudden stiffness of his features,, paired with his shock, constricted him slightly. Three of the other suited figures on the pipe disregarded the unfortunate man completely, and turned to smile at the stunning woman lounging in the space previously accommodated by a fifth suit.
“Vi-victoria-“
“That’s Seventh to you, Ram.”
Clearly uninterested in the politics, a fox-masked man leaned forward from the middle of the row. “What of Sixth? And where did Fifth go, Victoria?”
She smiled at him archly. “Sixth has a comfortable vantage point of the preceding with the scientist and the one I betted on. He seemed more than happy to let me visit. And Spider wanted to get a closer look at the combatants, First. Allegedly it’s getting interesting for his part of the wager, and we’re missing out on the action up here in the wind. But my charge is being nothing but frightfully boring. It seems savages do not bloom well in the constraints of polite society.”
First snorted. “As if we didn’t know that already.” Despite the outburst, his features quickly settled into a more glum expression. “Mind you, my girl isn’t being particularly sharp either. Just a lot of faffing around, it seems to me, but at least she has an interesting method. Could get interesting quickly.”
Silence fell as the figures became more absorbed in whatever it was they could see through their mysterious means. Soft sighs and short laughs punctuated the quiet with each small victory and defeat of the fighters, but eventually even those stopped coming.
Suddenly the last man on the pipe who had yet to speak shook himself from his stupor. His mask was simple and held the pleasing design of a content ox. His silver hair shone softly in whatever light permeated this dark place.
“So much cloth,” he muttered, then became distracted by something in another direction entirely. An elderly chortle escaped his portly figure. “Why, would you look at that. It seems the scientist is trying to escape. As nothing more than an astral projection, poor lad!”
Smiles and laughter rippled along the perched line.
“So he is, dear Third!”
“What a fool!”
“So they still haven’t realized? They are even more talentless than I took them to be,” Victoria declared dryly.
Third smiled ruefully and shook his head.
“It is rather splendidly done, my dear.”
“Oh, undoubtedly! The Master’s skills are unsurpassed! Unlimited, even!”
Third gave Victoria a level stare.
“Then why bother with this fiddly trickery? Why not bring them here physically?”
She faltered. Third smiled back rather patiently, but she simply turned her head and fell silent.
He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the other three.
“No. They will notice soon. Not immediately, but at the very least the god bound to the savage will begun to suspect. And not before this hubbub has died down.” He gestured in the direction of the fight. “But it is no large loss. The Prestidigitator will simply smile, pat them on the head, and transport them fully next time, draining of strength be damned. Although…”
“Astral projection is divided from full teleportation merely by the ability to direct willpower,” the nervous Fourth finished. “I- I’ll be the first to admit that those branches of mysticism were never my strong point, but even a novice knows such a thing. It could be a risk-“
Third waved a hand. “Calm yourself, my dear man. Even if they were to suddenly become masters of such magic, the Prestidigitator is quick. When you have seen all the wonders of an entire civilization in the blink of an eye, the real pace of life becomes something of a drag. They won’t be able to escape before he terminates the process.”
An uncomfortable quiet fell.
Until Second piped up at least.
“Hey! What’s the problem? Even if they get out, it’s just one more loser of the wager!”
Gales of laughter escaped from the Gentlemen of the Prestidigitator and was quickly stolen by the wind, caused more by the release of tension than any real humour that could be found. They were still laughing as they faded to shadows, and yet still as they vanished while the explosion below burst into being.