Re: The Phenomenal Fracas! (GBS2G6): [Round Four: The Warped Edifice]
10-04-2011, 12:56 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
Eureka wasn't a particularly good conversationalist in her current state, but she was at least an enthusiastic one. Words and phrases constantly tumbled out of her mouth as she wandered through the labyrinthine structure, Muriegro always at her heels; most of her speech consisted of variations on the word friend and inventively-saccharine threats, but a fair portion of it was comments on her surroundings and evaluations of the weaponizability of various objects she stumbled across. Muriegro was of course silent, and Laguja saw no reason to interject. Near-nonsense followed the pair as they wove aimlessly through the motley escherscape, and that nonsense was their only companion and only stimulus.
Laguja pondered the new round and the consequences of the old one distastefully; it was so frustrating to have had such a beautiful rebellion snatched out from under it. The entire purpose of whipping the human chaff into a frenzy was to introduce itself deifically at a key moment and feed on the faith that its new flock would provide. The sheer power all those people would prove... The pincushion could practically taste the minds prostrating themselves before it. To be dragged from the precipice of such power, from being on the cusp of the potential to sweep this whole game aside and attack its captors directly, only to be dropped in a madhouse of a maze with its powers crippled was infuriating. And demeaning on top of it. Being made near-servile to this insane woman was just the final detail, seemingly heaped on out of spite.
Now that Laguja thought about it more, this entire round was baffling on top of maddening: surely the ostensible point of this game was to amuse its creator. What amusement could be derived from watching the group flail ineffectually at each other, weakened and powerless? Surely placing apocalyptic weapons in their hands or legions of followers at their feet would be more engaging than letting them wander through empty hallways. Even if there were some kind of perverse pleasure the Prestidigitator took in watching the contestants struggle weakly, why would he or his servants choose a round where they were all spread so widely that chance encounters had only been facilitated by Eureka actively trying to be found?
This conundrum, coupled with the fact that Two had fairly-explicitly said that the grandmaster's interest had waned, made the pincushion worry. Namely, it was worried that the game was no longer that, but rather a discarded toy. Perhaps this place had been selected so that the contestants would never be able to finish each other off weakened as they were or even find most of the others. It would go on forever, the five of them trapped in a twisted tomb of enforced frailty. It would certainly explain why that brass vase had shattered so readily and harmlessly. It would...
At this point, Laguja was snapped from its preoccupation by a squeal from Eureka. She dropped the floorlamp made of polished obsidian that she'd been lugging around and calling her "killtoy" for the last ten minutes and leapt joyfully towards an assembly of knives that appeared to be made of solid diamond or some other sort of crystal. The whole room, which appeared to be an enormous kitchen capable of providing food for hundreds or thousands of people, was made of various gems and semi-precious stones, mottled oddly together with no hint of seams or attachment. The place glittered to the point of making it almost painful to look at, but it was at least an improvement over the solid-mud bathroom the pair had just left. Eureka giggled in a manner Laguja might have described as "cheesy-horror-movie-esque" if it had ever left the Amazon jungles and hefted a pair of translucent, sparkling cleavers.
At this point, Muriegro raised his arm and pointed, completely independently of the pincushion's control. Laguja was taken aback, but Eureka just beamed and effused "What's that boy? Someone fell down the well?" apropos of nothing. Laguja attempted to reach out mentally to determine what Muriegro had noticed, but was unable to exert any real power. Frustrated and sporting the incorporeal equivalent of a headache, it grumpily settled back into its pouch. After a moment, Eureka cocked her head.
"Oh waaaait, I think I do hear something. Is that a frieeeend out there? Is that... Twoooo friends out there? I think it is two friends! We should go meet our friendly new friends. I want to share my toys with them! Friendly friends love to shaaaare!"
She whirled off after the sounds, Muriegro on her heels.
Eureka wasn't a particularly good conversationalist in her current state, but she was at least an enthusiastic one. Words and phrases constantly tumbled out of her mouth as she wandered through the labyrinthine structure, Muriegro always at her heels; most of her speech consisted of variations on the word friend and inventively-saccharine threats, but a fair portion of it was comments on her surroundings and evaluations of the weaponizability of various objects she stumbled across. Muriegro was of course silent, and Laguja saw no reason to interject. Near-nonsense followed the pair as they wove aimlessly through the motley escherscape, and that nonsense was their only companion and only stimulus.
Laguja pondered the new round and the consequences of the old one distastefully; it was so frustrating to have had such a beautiful rebellion snatched out from under it. The entire purpose of whipping the human chaff into a frenzy was to introduce itself deifically at a key moment and feed on the faith that its new flock would provide. The sheer power all those people would prove... The pincushion could practically taste the minds prostrating themselves before it. To be dragged from the precipice of such power, from being on the cusp of the potential to sweep this whole game aside and attack its captors directly, only to be dropped in a madhouse of a maze with its powers crippled was infuriating. And demeaning on top of it. Being made near-servile to this insane woman was just the final detail, seemingly heaped on out of spite.
Now that Laguja thought about it more, this entire round was baffling on top of maddening: surely the ostensible point of this game was to amuse its creator. What amusement could be derived from watching the group flail ineffectually at each other, weakened and powerless? Surely placing apocalyptic weapons in their hands or legions of followers at their feet would be more engaging than letting them wander through empty hallways. Even if there were some kind of perverse pleasure the Prestidigitator took in watching the contestants struggle weakly, why would he or his servants choose a round where they were all spread so widely that chance encounters had only been facilitated by Eureka actively trying to be found?
This conundrum, coupled with the fact that Two had fairly-explicitly said that the grandmaster's interest had waned, made the pincushion worry. Namely, it was worried that the game was no longer that, but rather a discarded toy. Perhaps this place had been selected so that the contestants would never be able to finish each other off weakened as they were or even find most of the others. It would go on forever, the five of them trapped in a twisted tomb of enforced frailty. It would certainly explain why that brass vase had shattered so readily and harmlessly. It would...
At this point, Laguja was snapped from its preoccupation by a squeal from Eureka. She dropped the floorlamp made of polished obsidian that she'd been lugging around and calling her "killtoy" for the last ten minutes and leapt joyfully towards an assembly of knives that appeared to be made of solid diamond or some other sort of crystal. The whole room, which appeared to be an enormous kitchen capable of providing food for hundreds or thousands of people, was made of various gems and semi-precious stones, mottled oddly together with no hint of seams or attachment. The place glittered to the point of making it almost painful to look at, but it was at least an improvement over the solid-mud bathroom the pair had just left. Eureka giggled in a manner Laguja might have described as "cheesy-horror-movie-esque" if it had ever left the Amazon jungles and hefted a pair of translucent, sparkling cleavers.
At this point, Muriegro raised his arm and pointed, completely independently of the pincushion's control. Laguja was taken aback, but Eureka just beamed and effused "What's that boy? Someone fell down the well?" apropos of nothing. Laguja attempted to reach out mentally to determine what Muriegro had noticed, but was unable to exert any real power. Frustrated and sporting the incorporeal equivalent of a headache, it grumpily settled back into its pouch. After a moment, Eureka cocked her head.
"Oh waaaait, I think I do hear something. Is that a frieeeend out there? Is that... Twoooo friends out there? I think it is two friends! We should go meet our friendly new friends. I want to share my toys with them! Friendly friends love to shaaaare!"
She whirled off after the sounds, Muriegro on her heels.