Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 1: Afterlife]
03-04-2010, 06:25 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
[background=silver:1zd287vn]The killing machine formerly known as Hoss, as might be expected of one recovering from insanity, is not thinking properly. Its higher mental functions are practically nonexistant, and its memory lies in fragments about its mind, waiting to be pieced back together. As such, the thick cylindrical object swinging towards it doesn't register as it might have earlier, and is merely seen as an obstacle between the killer and its next victim.
Though the trap comes at it rather fast, due not only to the object's speed but its own as well, the cyborg is capable of processing stimuli at a vastly accelerated rate over its fully organic brethren. It is not unduly worried for its own safety; it has been rebuilt time and again to be stronger, faster, and overall better than most everything else in the known universe.
It hasn't quite remembered it isn't in the known universe, though it probably wouldn't care if it had.
Without slowing down, the cyborg places a hand out in front of itself. It does not crash, it is not stopped: two fingers' contact is all it needs to vault gracefully over the oncoming object and continue on its merry way. Something strikes it as odd, though, for the feel of the trap is inconguent with the rest of the cavern, somehow soft and smooth, yet muscular as well. But curiosity is quickly stifled by bloodlust, and a second trap is swinging down at it.
No longer caring for the subtleties of acrobatics, the cyborg lashes out with its blade. Its target has all the resistance of flesh, which is to say, "very little." The satisfying thump of body on stone, and a cry of rage and anguish. The cyborg claims another victim, and speeds on its way towards Calm, a murderous glint in its eye.[/background:1zd287vn]
~~~~~~~~~~
The loss of an arm, while excrutiatingly painful, mattered little to Gormand on the whole, as he had many more.
On the other hand, the loss of an arm, while he had many more, was excrutiatingly painful.
Vision blurring in anger and agony, Gormand glanced about for something to throw. A few arrows, a pair of javelins, far more oars than any boat could ever need, and a slowly rising man were all within reach. The meatball took the spears and several paddles, handing one to the zombie who took it unquestioningly. Zombie: either Konka Rar - fighting Hoss soon; or the ghosts - don't like Hoss much right now. Not laughing - probably Konka Rar.
By now, what was being incorrectly identified as Hoss had halved the distance seperating himself and his intended victim. Muttering an apology to the still-seated undead adventurer, Gormand shoved him forcibly forward, sliding him across the bloody floor much faster than he could've walked. Still not as fast as Hoss, though.
Readying his impromptu arsenal, the oversized snack collapsed into a roll towards the imminent battleground.
Hopefully, my arm will be the only casualty.
[background=silver:1zd287vn]The killing machine formerly known as Hoss, as might be expected of one recovering from insanity, is not thinking properly. Its higher mental functions are practically nonexistant, and its memory lies in fragments about its mind, waiting to be pieced back together. As such, the thick cylindrical object swinging towards it doesn't register as it might have earlier, and is merely seen as an obstacle between the killer and its next victim.
Though the trap comes at it rather fast, due not only to the object's speed but its own as well, the cyborg is capable of processing stimuli at a vastly accelerated rate over its fully organic brethren. It is not unduly worried for its own safety; it has been rebuilt time and again to be stronger, faster, and overall better than most everything else in the known universe.
It hasn't quite remembered it isn't in the known universe, though it probably wouldn't care if it had.
Without slowing down, the cyborg places a hand out in front of itself. It does not crash, it is not stopped: two fingers' contact is all it needs to vault gracefully over the oncoming object and continue on its merry way. Something strikes it as odd, though, for the feel of the trap is inconguent with the rest of the cavern, somehow soft and smooth, yet muscular as well. But curiosity is quickly stifled by bloodlust, and a second trap is swinging down at it.
No longer caring for the subtleties of acrobatics, the cyborg lashes out with its blade. Its target has all the resistance of flesh, which is to say, "very little." The satisfying thump of body on stone, and a cry of rage and anguish. The cyborg claims another victim, and speeds on its way towards Calm, a murderous glint in its eye.[/background:1zd287vn]
~~~~~~~~~~
The loss of an arm, while excrutiatingly painful, mattered little to Gormand on the whole, as he had many more.
On the other hand, the loss of an arm, while he had many more, was excrutiatingly painful.
Vision blurring in anger and agony, Gormand glanced about for something to throw. A few arrows, a pair of javelins, far more oars than any boat could ever need, and a slowly rising man were all within reach. The meatball took the spears and several paddles, handing one to the zombie who took it unquestioningly. Zombie: either Konka Rar - fighting Hoss soon; or the ghosts - don't like Hoss much right now. Not laughing - probably Konka Rar.
By now, what was being incorrectly identified as Hoss had halved the distance seperating himself and his intended victim. Muttering an apology to the still-seated undead adventurer, Gormand shoved him forcibly forward, sliding him across the bloody floor much faster than he could've walked. Still not as fast as Hoss, though.
Readying his impromptu arsenal, the oversized snack collapsed into a roll towards the imminent battleground.
Hopefully, my arm will be the only casualty.