Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 2: Giant's House]
05-12-2010, 07:46 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
Things were looking up for Gormand. An unfortunate turn of phrase, perhaps, given the daunting task of scaling a monolithic refrigerator. Nevertheless, it was a turn of luck to come upon such a store of food so quickly.
Upon reaching the electrical icebox, the meatball paused. Before him was the freezer which, while it contained a veritable bounty of victuals, was necessarily freezing. The foodbeast did not take well to the lower temperate extremes, and was deciding whether or not to simply move on to the larger preservation chamber when the Giant burst in, raging at the Cyborg and Lich.
Gormand rapidly came to the conclusion that there would probably be more meat in the refrigerator proper, and hastily ducked inside.
The freezer was not nearly as cold as it could have been, having vented a great deal of frosty air since its impact with the roof, and the shelves were slick with condensation. Not to be deterred, the meatball partly inverted the tips of his appendages to form suction cups. It wasn't the most effective method of ascent, and he nearly fell several due to inopportune water droplets impeding his progress and the shuddering of the house around him.
He arrived at the gap between the two icy vaults just in time to watch the Giant's pointer finger take a graceful pirouette away from the rest of its long-time neighbors, the Giant himself rather displeased with the loss. But Gormand did not watch long, having the merest slit through which to observe the fight, and quickly clambered upward into the frigid cell above.
Whereas the frozen foods below had managed to escape relatively unharmed, the main body of the appliance had been absolutely trashed by the sudden reversal of gravity. The fridge smelled strongly of milk, due to a ruptured carton of the white fluid on one of the higher shelves. Egg whites and egg yolks had seeped down the length of the door, mixing with fruit juices and a variety of dressings along the way to create a particularly foul odor. A tub of salad had burst, scattering bits of vegetable everywhere - in the butter, in a pile of rice, even in an otherwise unscathed lump of jello. Gormand, however, saw none of this.
Sitting directly ahead of him was a wrapped tray filled with ground beef.
He'd suspected he'd find as much, but hadn't dared hope on the off-chance the Giant was a vegetarian. Each strand of meat was about half as thick as one of his arms; the entire platter contained enough meat for six of him. Gormand gleefully rubbed a pair of noodles together; truly, this was a feast fit for an emperor such as himself. He was about to spawn a Meatbag to pre-digest the rest of the fridge's contents when he was struck by a rather disconcerting thought.
What had happened to the zombie Konka Rar had summoned in The Afterlife? It had been incinerated by the plasma wave after Hoss' release... hadn't it?
What if my minions cannot follow me between rounds?
On the one hand, it considerably limited one of his major advantages over the other contestants, something he suspected The Cultivator would claim to be 'in the spirit of fairness.' On the other hand, the Giant would quite likely be unable to join them as well. Gormand was not sure the latter made up for the former, but he would manage either way.
He was shaken from his reverie by an explosion which, by the sound of it, would have heralded a Withdrawal period. The refrigerator doors creaked inward slightly, almost prompting Gormand to abandon his newfound bounty. What are those fools doing out there? He paused, and appeared to fall asleep standing up.
Gormand had once described his mental link with the rest of his forces as "rather like watching a large television surrounded by a multitude of smaller, soundless screens through which the viewer may freely browse." Of course, that had been while he was still in control of a vast army. Now, he found he had only one screen in addition to his own, and that one depicted a scene of carnage.
The first Kabob, unbeknownst to Gormand, had been crushed by the table and disintegrated by Ekelhaft Jr before being irrevocably destroyed by the Giant's kinetic blast. The other had become entangled in the flaming bedsheet, and had only barely managed to shred its bindings before burning to death. Then the floor had collapsed, and though the meatstick had managed to escape, a particularly well-placed floorboard managed to pin one of its arms. It was not in the best of shape, but it was all Gormand had.
The lone Kabob had instinctively sought out the nearest battleground, and wandered into the kitchen. Unfortunately, it seemed to have missed all the fun. The Giant lay in a pool of his own innards, and while he yet struggled to rise to his feet, the glazed look about his eyes and silent conducting of Konka Rar quite clearly indicated he was no longer among the living... not to mention the unhealthy absence of torso. Much of the room had been repainted in pleasant shades of deep crimson and spleen, with a great river of tap water clearing a path through the gore from the pool beneath the sink to the shelves smashed by a falling toaster. Hand of Silver approached from the impromptu autopsy, skirting the lone fractured fluorescent light and looking rather pleased with himself.
Satisfied, Gormand cut the connection just in time to miss Hoss spontaneously accelerate, self-important smirk vanishing, as the Kabob whirled around, vision obscured by a writhing mass of green and pain...
He decided not to create anything more just yet, seeing as the undead giant would most likely bring the round to a rapid end. Muttering under his breath on the aggravating perseverance of the improperly deceased at large, he punctured the plastic and began to gorge himself on the beef. Something felt off about the meat; it was somehow... spongier that it should have been, but he couldn't quite determine what the problem was.
Nor did he have the time to, for only three mouthfuls into his feast, he was found by the rats.
Things were looking up for Gormand. An unfortunate turn of phrase, perhaps, given the daunting task of scaling a monolithic refrigerator. Nevertheless, it was a turn of luck to come upon such a store of food so quickly.
Upon reaching the electrical icebox, the meatball paused. Before him was the freezer which, while it contained a veritable bounty of victuals, was necessarily freezing. The foodbeast did not take well to the lower temperate extremes, and was deciding whether or not to simply move on to the larger preservation chamber when the Giant burst in, raging at the Cyborg and Lich.
Gormand rapidly came to the conclusion that there would probably be more meat in the refrigerator proper, and hastily ducked inside.
The freezer was not nearly as cold as it could have been, having vented a great deal of frosty air since its impact with the roof, and the shelves were slick with condensation. Not to be deterred, the meatball partly inverted the tips of his appendages to form suction cups. It wasn't the most effective method of ascent, and he nearly fell several due to inopportune water droplets impeding his progress and the shuddering of the house around him.
He arrived at the gap between the two icy vaults just in time to watch the Giant's pointer finger take a graceful pirouette away from the rest of its long-time neighbors, the Giant himself rather displeased with the loss. But Gormand did not watch long, having the merest slit through which to observe the fight, and quickly clambered upward into the frigid cell above.
Whereas the frozen foods below had managed to escape relatively unharmed, the main body of the appliance had been absolutely trashed by the sudden reversal of gravity. The fridge smelled strongly of milk, due to a ruptured carton of the white fluid on one of the higher shelves. Egg whites and egg yolks had seeped down the length of the door, mixing with fruit juices and a variety of dressings along the way to create a particularly foul odor. A tub of salad had burst, scattering bits of vegetable everywhere - in the butter, in a pile of rice, even in an otherwise unscathed lump of jello. Gormand, however, saw none of this.
Sitting directly ahead of him was a wrapped tray filled with ground beef.
He'd suspected he'd find as much, but hadn't dared hope on the off-chance the Giant was a vegetarian. Each strand of meat was about half as thick as one of his arms; the entire platter contained enough meat for six of him. Gormand gleefully rubbed a pair of noodles together; truly, this was a feast fit for an emperor such as himself. He was about to spawn a Meatbag to pre-digest the rest of the fridge's contents when he was struck by a rather disconcerting thought.
What had happened to the zombie Konka Rar had summoned in The Afterlife? It had been incinerated by the plasma wave after Hoss' release... hadn't it?
What if my minions cannot follow me between rounds?
On the one hand, it considerably limited one of his major advantages over the other contestants, something he suspected The Cultivator would claim to be 'in the spirit of fairness.' On the other hand, the Giant would quite likely be unable to join them as well. Gormand was not sure the latter made up for the former, but he would manage either way.
He was shaken from his reverie by an explosion which, by the sound of it, would have heralded a Withdrawal period. The refrigerator doors creaked inward slightly, almost prompting Gormand to abandon his newfound bounty. What are those fools doing out there? He paused, and appeared to fall asleep standing up.
Gormand had once described his mental link with the rest of his forces as "rather like watching a large television surrounded by a multitude of smaller, soundless screens through which the viewer may freely browse." Of course, that had been while he was still in control of a vast army. Now, he found he had only one screen in addition to his own, and that one depicted a scene of carnage.
The first Kabob, unbeknownst to Gormand, had been crushed by the table and disintegrated by Ekelhaft Jr before being irrevocably destroyed by the Giant's kinetic blast. The other had become entangled in the flaming bedsheet, and had only barely managed to shred its bindings before burning to death. Then the floor had collapsed, and though the meatstick had managed to escape, a particularly well-placed floorboard managed to pin one of its arms. It was not in the best of shape, but it was all Gormand had.
The lone Kabob had instinctively sought out the nearest battleground, and wandered into the kitchen. Unfortunately, it seemed to have missed all the fun. The Giant lay in a pool of his own innards, and while he yet struggled to rise to his feet, the glazed look about his eyes and silent conducting of Konka Rar quite clearly indicated he was no longer among the living... not to mention the unhealthy absence of torso. Much of the room had been repainted in pleasant shades of deep crimson and spleen, with a great river of tap water clearing a path through the gore from the pool beneath the sink to the shelves smashed by a falling toaster. Hand of Silver approached from the impromptu autopsy, skirting the lone fractured fluorescent light and looking rather pleased with himself.
Satisfied, Gormand cut the connection just in time to miss Hoss spontaneously accelerate, self-important smirk vanishing, as the Kabob whirled around, vision obscured by a writhing mass of green and pain...
He decided not to create anything more just yet, seeing as the undead giant would most likely bring the round to a rapid end. Muttering under his breath on the aggravating perseverance of the improperly deceased at large, he punctured the plastic and began to gorge himself on the beef. Something felt off about the meat; it was somehow... spongier that it should have been, but he couldn't quite determine what the problem was.
Nor did he have the time to, for only three mouthfuls into his feast, he was found by the rats.