Re: LAST. THING. STANDING. [S!1][ROUND ONE: TELEVISION LAND]
12-12-2011, 06:50 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Agent1022.
Aaron. Change lay flat on the ground, now an array of purple plasticized notes, some slightly splashed with paint. Aaron, get up!
Groaning, Aaron pulled himself to his feet – then staggered backwards with the weight of Nizzo on his back, tentacles wrapped tightly around him. “The hell?”
<font color="#CDAD00">If a low-flying bundle of bills could give off an aura of smugness, Change did. Yes, the telepathic jellyfish has decided to wrap itself on you like a backpack full of bad debt. Oh! Only marginally related: Aaron, have you ever read “The Puppet Masters”? Robert Heinlein? Well, heartell it’s a good read. Worth every pen-
“Oh, I say!” A voice rang out among the milling humanity that the trio were slowly realizing was all around them. A gentleman, swarthed in a frock coat and top hat, pushed through the dispersing crowd and parked his bulk solidly in front of them. Behind him followed three cameramen and their bored expressions, each lens focused on one of the three contestants. “I say, that is simply a spiffing pet – the most unusual jellyfish I’ve seen this time round!” The man stuck out a shovel-sized hand. “James Hyphenated-Surname, the host of Pet TeleCentral – the sensational domestication documentation!”
Aaron shook the host’s hand, briefly losing his own in the process, and surreptitiously tried to rub life back into his digits as the cameras turned to focus on Hyphenated-Surname’s examination of Nizzo – “Doesn’t he need water?”
The male-of-honour gave a thought that accorded with Nizzo’s own thoughts: the impression of requirement, or necessity, linked with the impression of water. Though the male-of-honour didn’t seem quite as receptive as this-male-one-of-riches, Nizzo sent an impression in return – the impression of water linked with an impression of home, of familiarity, of safety, of one-who-continues-to-move.
“I just had the oddest feeling, Mr…I’m sorry, I never caught your name at all, how silly of me-”
“Abstract. …Aaron Abstract.”
“Pardon my saying, that’s not a common name at all, is it? But anyhow! I simply got the queerest feeling – like this poor chap here needs water somehow! Perhaps it feels more …comfortable, that’s the word, in the water, perhaps?”
Drained by the effort, Nizzo sagged slightly. He was beginning to feel the sense of long-travelling – in fact a sign of his extended removal from the water. To his satisfaction, though, he felt an increasing sense of accord in the male-with-honour’s thoughts-
Change felt it too, and Nizzo’s satisfaction to boot. Somewhere deep in his monetary soul, something wanted to hiss, and maybe claw.
It wasn’t like him at all. And unpredictable actions risked consumer confidence, which was why Transactions usually reined in their emotions, preferring the safety of fiscal responsibility.
One by one, though, Change had let cracks open in his icy façade. He’d grown fond of Aaron, and he justified, backed up that fondness with solid trust. He’d become emotionally invested in Aaron, and he expected returns on his investment.
But now, he wasn’t, and he’d not come across this emotion before. What was he feeling, that burned like a lead weight in the pit of his little golden soul?
“Let’s get you in a tank, shall we?” The filming troupe traipsed their way across the richly decorated hall. Aaron took in his surroundings as they walked – here and there were cages and tables, upon which would stand some kind of exotic bird or fish or cat, and around which a crowd would mill before dispersing to examine the next domesticated curiosity. It was, effectively, a large, televised pet show. At one point Aaron caught a glimpse of a squid wrapped around what appeared to be a tree branch before being harried on. They made their way to the carefully placed Branded Supplies Shop™, in the center of the hall - the cameras made a brief sweep across the logos adorning its signs, walls, floor, and every piece of merchandise, then settled on a very handsome engraved-glass fish tank, with the Bechtel logo prominent in the markings. It was also shaped like a tank. With treads.
From a shadow in an unviewed corner, a suited figure wove itself from the gray. It was bland. It was not photogenic, nor retouched, nor particularly distinguished at all. Its face was partially obscured with a pair of mirrored lenses, and it sported a small communicator plugged into its right ear – though the apparition’s masters hardly required such a device for mere communicating. It was, like most of the figure’s appearance, for show.
It spoke, and in that moment it became more than an it.
“Unit dispatched, Copyright Central. Intellectual property violated: brand name Bechtel.”
The figure, an enforcer of the Copyright Police, stepped into the hall. He mingled, and proceeded onwards…
Aaron. Why on earth did you buy this? Change was being a tank-shaped tank. He wasn’t liking it. You can’t carry it. Its own landspeed, Hermes knows why they made it motorized, is close to what you, with legs, might achieve by walking extremely and pointlessly slowly, and to stuff the last penny in the piggy bank, I’m holding Nizzo. The treads on the glass tank briefly locked, making a sound halfway reminiscent of a ironic snort and a frustrated sigh. I have Nizzo. Inside me. Why does this feel like some form of innuendo?
Aaron just sighed. Events were just flying by, almost too fast for him to catch – he didn’t want this power play on top of everything else…then he felt Nizzo reaching out to him again, underneath the stream of Change’s complaints. He reached back, almost feeling a clandestine thrill at ignoring Change – he would be so mad if he caught him-
The world was much clearer! Nizzo sent this-male-one-of-riches an impression of gratitude, intending it to be a simple message – but then he felt him bring his attention from his companion (who was confusingly only until recently still a group-of-thin-things, but now its thoughts seemed to come from all around) to him. Their minds grew close once more, dancing around each other for fun, half-searching for the link they’d shared before -
Aaron! I understand that you are somewhat partial to playing the innocuous telepathic receptacle for Nizzo’s enjoyment…as I am currently serving as its physical receptacle…but perhaps we should try and relocate – perhaps to search for some of the other contestants? The artist, perhaps. We still need to have a few words.</font>
Aaron. Change lay flat on the ground, now an array of purple plasticized notes, some slightly splashed with paint. Aaron, get up!
Groaning, Aaron pulled himself to his feet – then staggered backwards with the weight of Nizzo on his back, tentacles wrapped tightly around him. “The hell?”
<font color="#CDAD00">If a low-flying bundle of bills could give off an aura of smugness, Change did. Yes, the telepathic jellyfish has decided to wrap itself on you like a backpack full of bad debt. Oh! Only marginally related: Aaron, have you ever read “The Puppet Masters”? Robert Heinlein? Well, heartell it’s a good read. Worth every pen-
“Oh, I say!” A voice rang out among the milling humanity that the trio were slowly realizing was all around them. A gentleman, swarthed in a frock coat and top hat, pushed through the dispersing crowd and parked his bulk solidly in front of them. Behind him followed three cameramen and their bored expressions, each lens focused on one of the three contestants. “I say, that is simply a spiffing pet – the most unusual jellyfish I’ve seen this time round!” The man stuck out a shovel-sized hand. “James Hyphenated-Surname, the host of Pet TeleCentral – the sensational domestication documentation!”
Aaron shook the host’s hand, briefly losing his own in the process, and surreptitiously tried to rub life back into his digits as the cameras turned to focus on Hyphenated-Surname’s examination of Nizzo – “Doesn’t he need water?”
The male-of-honour gave a thought that accorded with Nizzo’s own thoughts: the impression of requirement, or necessity, linked with the impression of water. Though the male-of-honour didn’t seem quite as receptive as this-male-one-of-riches, Nizzo sent an impression in return – the impression of water linked with an impression of home, of familiarity, of safety, of one-who-continues-to-move.
“I just had the oddest feeling, Mr…I’m sorry, I never caught your name at all, how silly of me-”
“Abstract. …Aaron Abstract.”
“Pardon my saying, that’s not a common name at all, is it? But anyhow! I simply got the queerest feeling – like this poor chap here needs water somehow! Perhaps it feels more …comfortable, that’s the word, in the water, perhaps?”
Drained by the effort, Nizzo sagged slightly. He was beginning to feel the sense of long-travelling – in fact a sign of his extended removal from the water. To his satisfaction, though, he felt an increasing sense of accord in the male-with-honour’s thoughts-
Change felt it too, and Nizzo’s satisfaction to boot. Somewhere deep in his monetary soul, something wanted to hiss, and maybe claw.
It wasn’t like him at all. And unpredictable actions risked consumer confidence, which was why Transactions usually reined in their emotions, preferring the safety of fiscal responsibility.
One by one, though, Change had let cracks open in his icy façade. He’d grown fond of Aaron, and he justified, backed up that fondness with solid trust. He’d become emotionally invested in Aaron, and he expected returns on his investment.
But now, he wasn’t, and he’d not come across this emotion before. What was he feeling, that burned like a lead weight in the pit of his little golden soul?
“Let’s get you in a tank, shall we?” The filming troupe traipsed their way across the richly decorated hall. Aaron took in his surroundings as they walked – here and there were cages and tables, upon which would stand some kind of exotic bird or fish or cat, and around which a crowd would mill before dispersing to examine the next domesticated curiosity. It was, effectively, a large, televised pet show. At one point Aaron caught a glimpse of a squid wrapped around what appeared to be a tree branch before being harried on. They made their way to the carefully placed Branded Supplies Shop™, in the center of the hall - the cameras made a brief sweep across the logos adorning its signs, walls, floor, and every piece of merchandise, then settled on a very handsome engraved-glass fish tank, with the Bechtel logo prominent in the markings. It was also shaped like a tank. With treads.
From a shadow in an unviewed corner, a suited figure wove itself from the gray. It was bland. It was not photogenic, nor retouched, nor particularly distinguished at all. Its face was partially obscured with a pair of mirrored lenses, and it sported a small communicator plugged into its right ear – though the apparition’s masters hardly required such a device for mere communicating. It was, like most of the figure’s appearance, for show.
It spoke, and in that moment it became more than an it.
“Unit dispatched, Copyright Central. Intellectual property violated: brand name Bechtel.”
The figure, an enforcer of the Copyright Police, stepped into the hall. He mingled, and proceeded onwards…
Aaron. Why on earth did you buy this? Change was being a tank-shaped tank. He wasn’t liking it. You can’t carry it. Its own landspeed, Hermes knows why they made it motorized, is close to what you, with legs, might achieve by walking extremely and pointlessly slowly, and to stuff the last penny in the piggy bank, I’m holding Nizzo. The treads on the glass tank briefly locked, making a sound halfway reminiscent of a ironic snort and a frustrated sigh. I have Nizzo. Inside me. Why does this feel like some form of innuendo?
Aaron just sighed. Events were just flying by, almost too fast for him to catch – he didn’t want this power play on top of everything else…then he felt Nizzo reaching out to him again, underneath the stream of Change’s complaints. He reached back, almost feeling a clandestine thrill at ignoring Change – he would be so mad if he caught him-
The world was much clearer! Nizzo sent this-male-one-of-riches an impression of gratitude, intending it to be a simple message – but then he felt him bring his attention from his companion (who was confusingly only until recently still a group-of-thin-things, but now its thoughts seemed to come from all around) to him. Their minds grew close once more, dancing around each other for fun, half-searching for the link they’d shared before -
Aaron! I understand that you are somewhat partial to playing the innocuous telepathic receptacle for Nizzo’s enjoyment…as I am currently serving as its physical receptacle…but perhaps we should try and relocate – perhaps to search for some of the other contestants? The artist, perhaps. We still need to have a few words.</font>
Spoiler
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