Re: Inexorable Altercation [Round III - Vorlon Complex]
08-24-2011, 05:09 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.
Apathy ran frantically. Memories upon memories swarmed around her, her own memories replaying at random. They're chasing me!...Alright, who's up there!?...They've breeched perimeter defenses!...No time for knives, better shoot. With each memory came a vision, a flash of senses: the sounds of explosions, feelings of remorse and terror. In one instant she was fleeing from some glowing, ethereal ball. In the next, she was pursuing and killing insect-like creatures who scurried through the corridors. An overbearing sense of justice solemnly drove her on.
They were just flashes, but they were powerful and disorienting enough that Apathy felt she must escape from them. She tried to concentrate, to ignore the distractions and focus solely on her here and now. Her electrically-charged brain, however, made any attempt at concentration futile. At each new memory, her powers reacted to it. They forced her to focus on the apparent danger. The instinctive reaction had served her well for years. She had never thought she'd have to shut it off.
The only point where her better judgment and her fears agreed was in escape. Whatever had happened, whoever had attacked her, she needed to get away from. Loran. Briefly she remembered pulling the trigger at...herself. For an instant she knew the memory had to belong to the assassin. A flood of forced memories shattered that instant, however, and Apathy kept running.
If she had been able to, she would have noticed a darkness ebbing into the corridor she fled through. It seeped in through cracks and joints, under doorways and vents. Like a black tar, it dripped out of leaky pipes, and bubbled through the flooring. It was nothing that belonged to this complex, or to this world. Gradually it obscured the lighting, absorbing and dismantling the energy that would seek to penetrate it. The darkness coated the floors, walls and ceiling, until finally Apathy was fully contained in a room of nothingness.
Had Apathy fought against this alien predator, filled it with all of the electricity and magic she could muster, she, maybe, perhaps, could have escaped. As it was, she stopped running. There was a stillness around her. The memories that had plagued her were quiet. Portions of her own memories still jumped to the surface at times, but for the most part, she had found some mental relief.
In the light barren room, Apathy was blind. She shot a testing bolt in front of her, hoping to illuminate her surroundings. The electricity vanished a few feet ahead of her, sucked into the blackness. No light had bounced back from the walls. Apathy had only caught a glimpse of her gloved hand.
Small bolts of electricity arced around her fingers - a second attempt to gain her bearings. She stepped slowly forward, reaching towards the darkness. Suddenly her hand went cold and the light was gone once more. She jerked the hand back and tried to relight the room, but the cold and darkness stayed. With her left hand she attempted to illuminate the right, but all she could see was her blue sleeve trailing into more darkness.
A flash, she stood, surrounded by eight robed figures. All of them seemed to be waiting on her guidance. Another flash, she felt relief, confidence. Seven figures accompanied her as they charged toward an eighth. A third, it was her home, one of Apathy's own memories, a ragged band of hoodlums had just broken in. Flash. More darkness and a profound confusion filled her. A thought in the memory echoed her own. Where am I? What is this?. Another shift, and Apathy saw her orphanage fading in the distance behind her.
More thoughts echoed around though her, a conversation this time.
And why this one?
He holds the key., Apathy's mind reeled with distrust towards this voice.
Then who should he replace?
Hardly matters. Whoever is convenient.
For a moment, the flashes ceased. Apathy felt the cold rising up her legs, over her shoulders, across her chest. She only felt where it approached. Her arms, her feet, everything already covered, seemed to have faded away.
She couldn't struggle now. She was already trapped. As the void stretched across her body, enveloping her completely, a final memory rose to the surface. She was young. She sat on the outskirts of her shanty with her parents, much like any child, without a care in the world.
----
The darkness vanished quickly, gone from the complex and the world. Apathy no longer remained either. The corridor was calm, undisturbed, as if neither the darkness nor the girl ever existed.
Then, suddenly, curiously, a small gnome-like creature dropped into the corridor from the ceiling. There was no flash or flood of darkness to announce his presence. Where no gnome was before now a gnome was. He rubbed his sores briefly and instinctively checked the small key he held around his neck. There was, to his surprise, a colorful strip of paper tied around it. Wondering, he opened it, and read the contents:
You've been entered into a contest.
Try and stay alive.
Parset:
Edit: FURTHER EXPLANATION
Apathy ran frantically. Memories upon memories swarmed around her, her own memories replaying at random. They're chasing me!...Alright, who's up there!?...They've breeched perimeter defenses!...No time for knives, better shoot. With each memory came a vision, a flash of senses: the sounds of explosions, feelings of remorse and terror. In one instant she was fleeing from some glowing, ethereal ball. In the next, she was pursuing and killing insect-like creatures who scurried through the corridors. An overbearing sense of justice solemnly drove her on.
They were just flashes, but they were powerful and disorienting enough that Apathy felt she must escape from them. She tried to concentrate, to ignore the distractions and focus solely on her here and now. Her electrically-charged brain, however, made any attempt at concentration futile. At each new memory, her powers reacted to it. They forced her to focus on the apparent danger. The instinctive reaction had served her well for years. She had never thought she'd have to shut it off.
The only point where her better judgment and her fears agreed was in escape. Whatever had happened, whoever had attacked her, she needed to get away from. Loran. Briefly she remembered pulling the trigger at...herself. For an instant she knew the memory had to belong to the assassin. A flood of forced memories shattered that instant, however, and Apathy kept running.
If she had been able to, she would have noticed a darkness ebbing into the corridor she fled through. It seeped in through cracks and joints, under doorways and vents. Like a black tar, it dripped out of leaky pipes, and bubbled through the flooring. It was nothing that belonged to this complex, or to this world. Gradually it obscured the lighting, absorbing and dismantling the energy that would seek to penetrate it. The darkness coated the floors, walls and ceiling, until finally Apathy was fully contained in a room of nothingness.
Had Apathy fought against this alien predator, filled it with all of the electricity and magic she could muster, she, maybe, perhaps, could have escaped. As it was, she stopped running. There was a stillness around her. The memories that had plagued her were quiet. Portions of her own memories still jumped to the surface at times, but for the most part, she had found some mental relief.
In the light barren room, Apathy was blind. She shot a testing bolt in front of her, hoping to illuminate her surroundings. The electricity vanished a few feet ahead of her, sucked into the blackness. No light had bounced back from the walls. Apathy had only caught a glimpse of her gloved hand.
Small bolts of electricity arced around her fingers - a second attempt to gain her bearings. She stepped slowly forward, reaching towards the darkness. Suddenly her hand went cold and the light was gone once more. She jerked the hand back and tried to relight the room, but the cold and darkness stayed. With her left hand she attempted to illuminate the right, but all she could see was her blue sleeve trailing into more darkness.
A flash, she stood, surrounded by eight robed figures. All of them seemed to be waiting on her guidance. Another flash, she felt relief, confidence. Seven figures accompanied her as they charged toward an eighth. A third, it was her home, one of Apathy's own memories, a ragged band of hoodlums had just broken in. Flash. More darkness and a profound confusion filled her. A thought in the memory echoed her own. Where am I? What is this?. Another shift, and Apathy saw her orphanage fading in the distance behind her.
More thoughts echoed around though her, a conversation this time.
And why this one?
He holds the key., Apathy's mind reeled with distrust towards this voice.
Then who should he replace?
Hardly matters. Whoever is convenient.
For a moment, the flashes ceased. Apathy felt the cold rising up her legs, over her shoulders, across her chest. She only felt where it approached. Her arms, her feet, everything already covered, seemed to have faded away.
She couldn't struggle now. She was already trapped. As the void stretched across her body, enveloping her completely, a final memory rose to the surface. She was young. She sat on the outskirts of her shanty with her parents, much like any child, without a care in the world.
----
The darkness vanished quickly, gone from the complex and the world. Apathy no longer remained either. The corridor was calm, undisturbed, as if neither the darkness nor the girl ever existed.
Then, suddenly, curiously, a small gnome-like creature dropped into the corridor from the ceiling. There was no flash or flood of darkness to announce his presence. Where no gnome was before now a gnome was. He rubbed his sores briefly and instinctively checked the small key he held around his neck. There was, to his surprise, a colorful strip of paper tied around it. Wondering, he opened it, and read the contents:
You've been entered into a contest.
Try and stay alive.
Parset:
Edit: FURTHER EXPLANATION