Re: The Phenomenal Fracas! (GBS2G6): [Round Three: HMS Thunderhead]
03-01-2011, 12:35 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
Here's a fun game to play whenever you're feeling bored. It's called “Count the Rikos.” Great for a rainy day with a lot of exact copies of you running amok in every parallel universe.
First of, there was the original, actual Riko. Scientist, husband, sort of a loose cannon when no one else was around, a terrible daydreamer and counting the experience of all copies to follow recently possessed at least three times by things he didn't believe in.
Then our dear little scientist-daydreamer-husband transformer was entered in a battle to the death with at least four beings science didn't have an explanation for. Soon after naïvely strolling through Afterparty for a while and mainly running away from things with about the purpose of a turnstile smack-dab in the center of Mars. During the round though, he learnt that this scientist wasn't the same as the initial one. In round one Thatix was destroyed by an astral projection of Riko, scientist, husband and sort of inexistant now that Mr. Prestisomething decided against showing up on his own battle. When this Riko found out, this led to an inexistential crisis, an impromptu collapse into tears on a coworker's shoulder and many a question no one was going to pop into his life and answer.
Round two's Riko was a piece of work. After having all his crewmates burnt to death except this one girl who kept reminding him of a wife he never had, astral Riko's mind was more or less fused together with the real Riko, who was having an otherworldy and far too gaudy wine and cheese evening with nine beings he didn't believe in. This new Riko-conglomeration had clear memories of wine and cheese and being real but just as well of a desert and a menacing beast with many ticking legs, though he had never been to a desert before and never fought a menace on thirty feet. (Technically he didn't get served appetizers by a bunch of gods and gentlepeople either, but that was beside the point.) That two-for-one Diveley special decided or deduced on (or from if you picked deduced just now) those memories he was, again, the real deal., and could only assume his astral whatever he had told him about merged with him at the end of each round into a desert fireplace mosh pit.
Various ghosts and desperate pleas to join and forget things later, along came fake round three Riko. Captured by a thing he didn't believe in – yes, another – the demon decided, though not on its own, now was the perfect time to scan the man's mind for anything he and his serpent... acquaintance feared, (Trains, sun and Grand Battles turned out to be a perfect choice) and decided to use that knowledge to concoct a phony round for the Fracas.
In that fake round he was attacked several times and panicked more than a snowboarder realising the upcoming tree is as avoidable as it is a notebook written entirely with bright orange ink. But “luckily” a lady he didn't believe in whom he once met at a wine and cheese party the other expanse before or beyond time came around and “cured” him, breaking the illusion of a fake round and a fake Riko and a fake anything so real fake real Riko could awaken in the basement with a thing he – guess what – didn't believe in. All this supernatural nonsense, he though, was getting quite annoying. His illusion-piercing skills made Malevolence realise an illusion made no sense if just one person wasn't seeing it, and decided the oddity of the situation somewhat outclassed the amusement it brought. All the other fake real fake contestants awakened, and decided to all work together to fail spectacularly at defeating the horror.
As a side note, this was the same round in which he was contacted by a being he absolutely refused to believe in and was expeted to send a reply to a pen pal he had gotten in touch with during round two so he could tear down from the inside an alliance against things he didn't believe in on behanf of a thing he didn't this was getting ridiculous rather fast.
Then of course we have 31-year-old single Riko who stole the Endorphic Core along with a plethora of other gadgets to fence for big companies throughout time and space in a rebellious blaze of vigilantism against the ideological side of the GRIMACE corporation. But he's an allusion to an important later plot point, so let's not just yet delve into his story.
He was daydreaming this entire time wasn't he?
Memories blurring together into one giant lake armchair sand train snowball, Riko was having a terribly hard time recalling what exactly had happened to any of his selves in the last few Vandrel plaque Afterparty Malevolence Joni moments. Someone had died, right? Someone had to have died. A lot of Thatix wagon-lit Sadie Lily Lenore things were happening all at once in the last few moments in round two and he really wasn't sure where everyone was and what everyone was running towards or away from. It was all so confusing and it really wasn't helping ahis headache.
He was feeling pretty hungry by now. That, and a little hungover from the bottle he remembered never even touching. It was his fake real fake astral – This wasn't helping.
Right. So. Zeppelin.
His surroundings were cold, metal, sleek and made of physics more than anything. Finally something he could truly believe in!
His stomach growled. He hoped he could also believe in a kitchen soon.
A second look around the area revealed his caretaker, and he presumed he was the mystery Sixth that woman mentioned once, to be not much more original in the placement of the gift as the gift on its own: Several feet away laid a box. It just laid there. Nothing theatrical, nothing fitting, he didn't even have to make any effort to get his gift.
When he opened the box, all his knowledge so far over these Sixths and Sevenths fell into place. He had the absent one, his gift was the core. From the start of this round out, he had been given the most powerful weapon in the battle.
It was time for an experiment first. The kitchen wouldn't spontaneously combust, now would it? Okay, bad example, but still.
There wasn't even time for any mere seconds to pass before the first surge of power from the pyramid-backpack monstrosity tore through him with at the same time a feeling of immense strength and of being punched right in the chest, but then punched by a man with tiny needles attacked to each of his knuckles.
He was in absolute agony, squirming over the floor as if he was trying desperately to drown himself in it, and succeeding. But yet, he wanted more.
Almost reflexively his hand twitched over his belt and instantly pressed a second vial of poison into his Core.
The needles were gone this time. Now was only ecstacy.
For the first few minutes of his new wave of power, he had simply stared up at the ceiling, hoping the lino would reply to him and explain why he had earned such an amazing feeling and tell him why he had had to wait his entire life to feel it.
He believed right into Syvex. The snake might have been startled, or may have tried to start conversation, but Riko wouldn't care, standing straight in the perfect unnatural way he did, panting and uncontrollably nodding his head in true delusion.
Then the needles returned.
Here's a fun game to play whenever you're feeling bored. It's called “Count the Rikos.” Great for a rainy day with a lot of exact copies of you running amok in every parallel universe.
First of, there was the original, actual Riko. Scientist, husband, sort of a loose cannon when no one else was around, a terrible daydreamer and counting the experience of all copies to follow recently possessed at least three times by things he didn't believe in.
Then our dear little scientist-daydreamer-husband transformer was entered in a battle to the death with at least four beings science didn't have an explanation for. Soon after naïvely strolling through Afterparty for a while and mainly running away from things with about the purpose of a turnstile smack-dab in the center of Mars. During the round though, he learnt that this scientist wasn't the same as the initial one. In round one Thatix was destroyed by an astral projection of Riko, scientist, husband and sort of inexistant now that Mr. Prestisomething decided against showing up on his own battle. When this Riko found out, this led to an inexistential crisis, an impromptu collapse into tears on a coworker's shoulder and many a question no one was going to pop into his life and answer.
Round two's Riko was a piece of work. After having all his crewmates burnt to death except this one girl who kept reminding him of a wife he never had, astral Riko's mind was more or less fused together with the real Riko, who was having an otherworldy and far too gaudy wine and cheese evening with nine beings he didn't believe in. This new Riko-conglomeration had clear memories of wine and cheese and being real but just as well of a desert and a menacing beast with many ticking legs, though he had never been to a desert before and never fought a menace on thirty feet. (Technically he didn't get served appetizers by a bunch of gods and gentlepeople either, but that was beside the point.) That two-for-one Diveley special decided or deduced on (or from if you picked deduced just now) those memories he was, again, the real deal., and could only assume his astral whatever he had told him about merged with him at the end of each round into a desert fireplace mosh pit.
Various ghosts and desperate pleas to join and forget things later, along came fake round three Riko. Captured by a thing he didn't believe in – yes, another – the demon decided, though not on its own, now was the perfect time to scan the man's mind for anything he and his serpent... acquaintance feared, (Trains, sun and Grand Battles turned out to be a perfect choice) and decided to use that knowledge to concoct a phony round for the Fracas.
In that fake round he was attacked several times and panicked more than a snowboarder realising the upcoming tree is as avoidable as it is a notebook written entirely with bright orange ink. But “luckily” a lady he didn't believe in whom he once met at a wine and cheese party the other expanse before or beyond time came around and “cured” him, breaking the illusion of a fake round and a fake Riko and a fake anything so real fake real Riko could awaken in the basement with a thing he – guess what – didn't believe in. All this supernatural nonsense, he though, was getting quite annoying. His illusion-piercing skills made Malevolence realise an illusion made no sense if just one person wasn't seeing it, and decided the oddity of the situation somewhat outclassed the amusement it brought. All the other fake real fake contestants awakened, and decided to all work together to fail spectacularly at defeating the horror.
As a side note, this was the same round in which he was contacted by a being he absolutely refused to believe in and was expeted to send a reply to a pen pal he had gotten in touch with during round two so he could tear down from the inside an alliance against things he didn't believe in on behanf of a thing he didn't this was getting ridiculous rather fast.
Then of course we have 31-year-old single Riko who stole the Endorphic Core along with a plethora of other gadgets to fence for big companies throughout time and space in a rebellious blaze of vigilantism against the ideological side of the GRIMACE corporation. But he's an allusion to an important later plot point, so let's not just yet delve into his story.
He was daydreaming this entire time wasn't he?
Memories blurring together into one giant lake armchair sand train snowball, Riko was having a terribly hard time recalling what exactly had happened to any of his selves in the last few Vandrel plaque Afterparty Malevolence Joni moments. Someone had died, right? Someone had to have died. A lot of Thatix wagon-lit Sadie Lily Lenore things were happening all at once in the last few moments in round two and he really wasn't sure where everyone was and what everyone was running towards or away from. It was all so confusing and it really wasn't helping ahis headache.
He was feeling pretty hungry by now. That, and a little hungover from the bottle he remembered never even touching. It was his fake real fake astral – This wasn't helping.
Right. So. Zeppelin.
His surroundings were cold, metal, sleek and made of physics more than anything. Finally something he could truly believe in!
His stomach growled. He hoped he could also believe in a kitchen soon.
A second look around the area revealed his caretaker, and he presumed he was the mystery Sixth that woman mentioned once, to be not much more original in the placement of the gift as the gift on its own: Several feet away laid a box. It just laid there. Nothing theatrical, nothing fitting, he didn't even have to make any effort to get his gift.
When he opened the box, all his knowledge so far over these Sixths and Sevenths fell into place. He had the absent one, his gift was the core. From the start of this round out, he had been given the most powerful weapon in the battle.
It was time for an experiment first. The kitchen wouldn't spontaneously combust, now would it? Okay, bad example, but still.
There wasn't even time for any mere seconds to pass before the first surge of power from the pyramid-backpack monstrosity tore through him with at the same time a feeling of immense strength and of being punched right in the chest, but then punched by a man with tiny needles attacked to each of his knuckles.
He was in absolute agony, squirming over the floor as if he was trying desperately to drown himself in it, and succeeding. But yet, he wanted more.
Almost reflexively his hand twitched over his belt and instantly pressed a second vial of poison into his Core.
The needles were gone this time. Now was only ecstacy.
For the first few minutes of his new wave of power, he had simply stared up at the ceiling, hoping the lino would reply to him and explain why he had earned such an amazing feeling and tell him why he had had to wait his entire life to feel it.
He believed right into Syvex. The snake might have been startled, or may have tried to start conversation, but Riko wouldn't care, standing straight in the perfect unnatural way he did, panting and uncontrollably nodding his head in true delusion.
Then the needles returned.
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.