Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 2: Giant's House]
03-30-2010, 04:19 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.
Hoss climbs. Navigating a mountain-sized wooden cupboard is no mean feat, and Hoss pumps the last of his energy reserves into his synthetic muscles. There is no risk of power loss; he has calculated his energy use perfectly, and had already analyzed the "cliff" face for the most efficient path. His body follows a pre-programmed set of moves upwards, leaving Hoss some time to think.
Hoss yet retains a large portion of his original organic brain. The same brain that carried trillions upon trillions of humans through their comparatively short lives. The same brain that takes all humans on trips back through their lives, as they age and accumulate memories. And Hoss has a lot of memories...
...the young man is alone. He is alone in a dark room, lit by the harsh off-blue glow of a multitude of digital displays. He is alone in life, having pushed away any and all potential human contact. This self-imposed isolation is out of necessity, for what he is about to do would, under other circumstances, remove the fluidity he so enjoys in social strata. His blue eyes examine the code lining his displays once more, double-checking months of work which will, tonight, begin something he will be unable to stop.
Next to him lies a nondescript, tattered notebook. There are three letters on its cover: "B.Y.P." Inside lies the course of humanity for the next several hundred million years, though its existence is not yet known. It has only recently been completed. A sidewalk conversation months earlier gave him the goal; a night of unbridled rage and surrender to passion gave him the drive, and tonight he will lay down the groundwork for the mechanism.
He is on an online forum. It is difficult to find, and only has a handful of members. One can only gain entry through invitation. That, or the more nefarious methods the young man has just used. It is a forum of people will versed in the intricacies of that vast and ethereal entity which hovers over their planet, spectral in its presence, yet its influence can be felt in every aspect of life. It is quite the accomplishment, then, that this one man is able to infiltrate their sanctum. As he prepares to make his first post, he briefly sits back to consider a username. His blue eyes flick to the notebook beside him, recalling an entry only recently added. He smiles, and types "Hand of Silver"...
... A change in scenery brings the ancient cyborg back to the present, as he reaches the top of the wooden cliff. Before him lies the most innocuous of any household appliance, and also the key to his survival: a faucet.
Hoss climbs onto his feet and moves towards the source of nearly endless power.
Hoss yet retains a large portion of his original organic brain. The same brain that carried trillions upon trillions of humans through their comparatively short lives. The same brain that takes all humans on trips back through their lives, as they age and accumulate memories. And Hoss has a lot of memories...
...the young man is alone. He is alone in a dark room, lit by the harsh off-blue glow of a multitude of digital displays. He is alone in life, having pushed away any and all potential human contact. This self-imposed isolation is out of necessity, for what he is about to do would, under other circumstances, remove the fluidity he so enjoys in social strata. His blue eyes examine the code lining his displays once more, double-checking months of work which will, tonight, begin something he will be unable to stop.
Next to him lies a nondescript, tattered notebook. There are three letters on its cover: "B.Y.P." Inside lies the course of humanity for the next several hundred million years, though its existence is not yet known. It has only recently been completed. A sidewalk conversation months earlier gave him the goal; a night of unbridled rage and surrender to passion gave him the drive, and tonight he will lay down the groundwork for the mechanism.
He is on an online forum. It is difficult to find, and only has a handful of members. One can only gain entry through invitation. That, or the more nefarious methods the young man has just used. It is a forum of people will versed in the intricacies of that vast and ethereal entity which hovers over their planet, spectral in its presence, yet its influence can be felt in every aspect of life. It is quite the accomplishment, then, that this one man is able to infiltrate their sanctum. As he prepares to make his first post, he briefly sits back to consider a username. His blue eyes flick to the notebook beside him, recalling an entry only recently added. He smiles, and types "Hand of Silver"...
... A change in scenery brings the ancient cyborg back to the present, as he reaches the top of the wooden cliff. Before him lies the most innocuous of any household appliance, and also the key to his survival: a faucet.
Hoss climbs onto his feet and moves towards the source of nearly endless power.