Re: The Fearsome Encounter (GBS3G8) [Round 1: Circumlocution]
08-17-2011, 09:45 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
In Parliament's halls, silence broke.
A hundred inmates, awed or cowed or merely curious, roused a hundred more who never slept. A hundred more rose to the occasion, telling the first two hundred to shut up and stop asking the same damn questions.
Did you hear that? The fuck could I not? Hwat in tsi world hwas sat maniac talking about!? Heh, you think that was Avery, you toothless idiot? We should send out scouts If not him, sen who? Shut yer ugly lispin' face, slimeball. Hmmmake me. Look, is an'one gon' bother actch'ly doing anything about it, or... I think we may agree that was certainly not Avery. Oh, criminy, can we at least kick that pompous windbag out ...Yeh, that's what I figured. Yeah, could be that fucker's idea of a prankOhohoho, you think our humourless bastard Lordship has a capricious side? I think not Oh, shut up Kid's got a point, for once SILENCE, ALL OF YOU.
The throng didn't so much as shut up as have their collective discussion ricochet round to how on earth the last guy had managed to raise his voice so well. Some protested, some applauded the speaker's efforts to make something productive happen, and - as usual - some told the rest to shut their faces so the rest wouldn't have to keep suffering fools.
I already stated we first require a scout Look, keeping on track for like five fucking seconds Not Avery. You are fool to think otherwise Kyahahaha, the look on all of your faces You blithering idiot, none of us have faces Figure of speech, sunshine It's not that stupid a proposition Um, well, it sort of is-
And so on. Marshal Frank Lucchese sighed, or at least wished he could do something other than just be. Reynard, he queried, on the offchance the serial killer was listening. Not like there was any architecture or tangible crowd in this prison to waylay his voice, but "finding" anyone was always a crapshoot.
What? Reynard humoured the dictator, or perhaps he was just seizing the invitation to force his unpleasant personality on the murderer of millions. They were far from friends, but each took a small solace in the fact the other wasn't a sniggering madman.
The other nice, if double-edged sword of a thing, was that they were both smart. And paid attention. And had been in each other's company for several centuries, now. There weren't any buttons left unpressed, all of them having been long-worn down by two men not inclined to snipe and snarl anyway.
The man's speech... you noted it, yes? Especially the tense. Hai still do not understa Oh shut up
Quite.
Does he expect us to prove ourselves with no eyes and ears?
Frank, you know I hate rhetorical questions, so let's just agree on what's what. He'd obviously fit right in here. What kind of task would we be better for than Avery himself?
Lucchese thought about that for a minute, struggling to see anything conclusive against the background static of idiots' arguments.
Wishing they'd all be quiet, Frank? Let me try something.
And then there was light. Blinding, argument-immolating merciful light, streaming in through the eyes of a blue jay. Reynard just flew, savouring this nonsensically blissful bittersweet freedom that only a man who finds himself a corporeal bird after centuries of being less than nothing can feel.
Then the rest of those idiots ignored the marshal's roars for order in the lull, and the air around Parliament burst in a maelstrom of feathers and wings. The strength was seemingly plucked from the blue jay's with the flash-flock, and Reynard plunged into the meadow below. His only satisfaction was seeing a cocky magpie that tried to chase after him suffer a similar fate.
Within a much-emptier Parliament, the marshal wished - over the conflicting mess of eyes he was simultaneously looking out of - that he could sigh. Again.
In Parliament's halls, silence broke.
A hundred inmates, awed or cowed or merely curious, roused a hundred more who never slept. A hundred more rose to the occasion, telling the first two hundred to shut up and stop asking the same damn questions.
Did you hear that? The fuck could I not? Hwat in tsi world hwas sat maniac talking about!? Heh, you think that was Avery, you toothless idiot? We should send out scouts If not him, sen who? Shut yer ugly lispin' face, slimeball. Hmmmake me. Look, is an'one gon' bother actch'ly doing anything about it, or... I think we may agree that was certainly not Avery. Oh, criminy, can we at least kick that pompous windbag out ...Yeh, that's what I figured. Yeah, could be that fucker's idea of a prankOhohoho, you think our humourless bastard Lordship has a capricious side? I think not Oh, shut up Kid's got a point, for once SILENCE, ALL OF YOU.
The throng didn't so much as shut up as have their collective discussion ricochet round to how on earth the last guy had managed to raise his voice so well. Some protested, some applauded the speaker's efforts to make something productive happen, and - as usual - some told the rest to shut their faces so the rest wouldn't have to keep suffering fools.
I already stated we first require a scout Look, keeping on track for like five fucking seconds Not Avery. You are fool to think otherwise Kyahahaha, the look on all of your faces You blithering idiot, none of us have faces Figure of speech, sunshine It's not that stupid a proposition Um, well, it sort of is-
And so on. Marshal Frank Lucchese sighed, or at least wished he could do something other than just be. Reynard, he queried, on the offchance the serial killer was listening. Not like there was any architecture or tangible crowd in this prison to waylay his voice, but "finding" anyone was always a crapshoot.
What? Reynard humoured the dictator, or perhaps he was just seizing the invitation to force his unpleasant personality on the murderer of millions. They were far from friends, but each took a small solace in the fact the other wasn't a sniggering madman.
The other nice, if double-edged sword of a thing, was that they were both smart. And paid attention. And had been in each other's company for several centuries, now. There weren't any buttons left unpressed, all of them having been long-worn down by two men not inclined to snipe and snarl anyway.
The man's speech... you noted it, yes? Especially the tense. Hai still do not understa Oh shut up
Quite.
Does he expect us to prove ourselves with no eyes and ears?
Frank, you know I hate rhetorical questions, so let's just agree on what's what. He'd obviously fit right in here. What kind of task would we be better for than Avery himself?
Lucchese thought about that for a minute, struggling to see anything conclusive against the background static of idiots' arguments.
Wishing they'd all be quiet, Frank? Let me try something.
And then there was light. Blinding, argument-immolating merciful light, streaming in through the eyes of a blue jay. Reynard just flew, savouring this nonsensically blissful bittersweet freedom that only a man who finds himself a corporeal bird after centuries of being less than nothing can feel.
Then the rest of those idiots ignored the marshal's roars for order in the lull, and the air around Parliament burst in a maelstrom of feathers and wings. The strength was seemingly plucked from the blue jay's with the flash-flock, and Reynard plunged into the meadow below. His only satisfaction was seeing a cocky magpie that tried to chase after him suffer a similar fate.
Within a much-emptier Parliament, the marshal wished - over the conflicting mess of eyes he was simultaneously looking out of - that he could sigh. Again.
Spoiler
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