Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 1: Afterlife]
02-22-2010, 04:35 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.
The blast from Dr. Anarchy's shot demolishes the two load-bearing pillars Hoss pointed out. As they fall, collapsing onto the cave mouth, a rumble is felt through the cavernous undergound. The pillars' demise rain down solid stone and sharpened stalactites upon Ziirphael and Diego. Unwilling to die as a cause of a madwoman's uncontrollable destructive urges, Diego throws himself into the cave. Ziirphael quickly follows, and the two find themselves sealed; a seemingly impenetrable wall of rubble and rock blocks their only obvious exit.
Hoss notices the unintended imprisonment which arises from the Doctor's directed fire, but chooses not to tell her. After all, no one died. It would not matter to her.
Instead, he has something else to offer,
"You will get something out of this. I believe I can make your weapon a great deal more powerful, as we must keep the up this pressure of destruction. If I may?"
Hoss removes the glove from his left hand, its presence now frivolous in the face of his tattered sleeve; where before it served to complete the concealment of his synthetic arm, it now simply looks... out of place. He tosses the glove aside as he extends his left hand, silver palm up, towards Dr. Anarchy, gesturing to the weapon.
Dr. Anarchy grips her precious destructo-cannon tighter as the ancient cyborg reaches for it, paranoia creeping into the edges of her psyche as a result of Ekelhaft's malign influence. Demanding, "What're you gonna do to my gun?!", she barely suppresses the urge to simply blast Hoss in the face, right then and there.
An unexpected flare of anger flares through Hoss, the unseen corruption of madness beginning to make itself known on the forefront of Hoss's thoughts. While slightly confused at his internal outburst, Hoss does not allow his frustration to show.
"In my universe, weapons technology has long surpassed your primitive methods of augmenting coherent light. I believe I can give your gun a bit more... punch, as it were. I promise, it will only perform better."
Grudgingly, Dr. Anarchy accepts, handing the bulky weapon over to the silver-eyed man. She immediately pulls a smaller handgun from her pack, and points it at Hoss. "Don't try anything funny, wack-job. I know better than to trust older men! Heh, actually they usually stayed away from me, given what I'd do to them! HAH!"
Passively recording the madwoman's actions, Hoss pours his full attention into the weapon before him. Shifting metallic plates in his left palm pull back to reveal tendrils extruded by Hoss's newmatter fabricators, located along what used to be his spinal column. His fingers split at each joint, then divide into two, then four, then eight, and so on until a network of dexterous manipulators cover the weapon, poking and prodding, seeking and stroking, studying how it functions.
When enough data has been gathered, the newmatter tendrils eject a thick, silvery fluid onto the weapon; millions upon billions of nanobots quickly disseminate themselves into its mechanical guts, ready to carry out their pre-programmed actions. As he works, Hoss decides that now is the time to initiate a discussion.
"... the power source in this weapon is... intriguing. Your civilization has obviously advanced upon a different developmental path than my own did. You invented all of this yourself? I would be pleased if you could... elaborate upon your other technological achievements."
The blast from Dr. Anarchy's shot demolishes the two load-bearing pillars Hoss pointed out. As they fall, collapsing onto the cave mouth, a rumble is felt through the cavernous undergound. The pillars' demise rain down solid stone and sharpened stalactites upon Ziirphael and Diego. Unwilling to die as a cause of a madwoman's uncontrollable destructive urges, Diego throws himself into the cave. Ziirphael quickly follows, and the two find themselves sealed; a seemingly impenetrable wall of rubble and rock blocks their only obvious exit.
Hoss notices the unintended imprisonment which arises from the Doctor's directed fire, but chooses not to tell her. After all, no one died. It would not matter to her.
Instead, he has something else to offer,
"You will get something out of this. I believe I can make your weapon a great deal more powerful, as we must keep the up this pressure of destruction. If I may?"
Hoss removes the glove from his left hand, its presence now frivolous in the face of his tattered sleeve; where before it served to complete the concealment of his synthetic arm, it now simply looks... out of place. He tosses the glove aside as he extends his left hand, silver palm up, towards Dr. Anarchy, gesturing to the weapon.
Dr. Anarchy grips her precious destructo-cannon tighter as the ancient cyborg reaches for it, paranoia creeping into the edges of her psyche as a result of Ekelhaft's malign influence. Demanding, "What're you gonna do to my gun?!", she barely suppresses the urge to simply blast Hoss in the face, right then and there.
An unexpected flare of anger flares through Hoss, the unseen corruption of madness beginning to make itself known on the forefront of Hoss's thoughts. While slightly confused at his internal outburst, Hoss does not allow his frustration to show.
"In my universe, weapons technology has long surpassed your primitive methods of augmenting coherent light. I believe I can give your gun a bit more... punch, as it were. I promise, it will only perform better."
Grudgingly, Dr. Anarchy accepts, handing the bulky weapon over to the silver-eyed man. She immediately pulls a smaller handgun from her pack, and points it at Hoss. "Don't try anything funny, wack-job. I know better than to trust older men! Heh, actually they usually stayed away from me, given what I'd do to them! HAH!"
Passively recording the madwoman's actions, Hoss pours his full attention into the weapon before him. Shifting metallic plates in his left palm pull back to reveal tendrils extruded by Hoss's newmatter fabricators, located along what used to be his spinal column. His fingers split at each joint, then divide into two, then four, then eight, and so on until a network of dexterous manipulators cover the weapon, poking and prodding, seeking and stroking, studying how it functions.
When enough data has been gathered, the newmatter tendrils eject a thick, silvery fluid onto the weapon; millions upon billions of nanobots quickly disseminate themselves into its mechanical guts, ready to carry out their pre-programmed actions. As he works, Hoss decides that now is the time to initiate a discussion.
"... the power source in this weapon is... intriguing. Your civilization has obviously advanced upon a different developmental path than my own did. You invented all of this yourself? I would be pleased if you could... elaborate upon your other technological achievements."