Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 3: Abandoned Park]
05-28-2010, 03:48 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.
Hoss glances behind him. His ocular implants magnify the view before him, in time to see... something... happen to a dilapidated playground. He catches a glimpse of green, and rightly assumes Ekelhaft.
Speaking of...
He brings his attention to the gravity blade currently serving as prison to Ekelhaft Jr. The high-gravity environment of the blade prevents much data from escaping, and whatever the blob is thinking, if it can think, or doing, if it can still do, is a mystery to Hoss. All he knows for certain is that it is still alive, and the prison cannot yet be shut down.
Which is... problematic.
He had not expected to have his blade running for so long, and it is becoming a major power drain. Without any obvious way to replenish his gluon reserves, Hoss may be in trouble soon, if this continues. Not to mention keeping his left arm in gravity blade configuration knocks him down one hand. No matter, he can still reconstruct his missing right ha-
Shock whips his head with unnatural speed to gape at the sparking, silver-dripping stump on his right arm. He sends the reconstruct command again, and again, nothing happens. No, this is not possible. Not possible! Panic would grip the ancient cyborg, were he still fully human, and even so a small amount manages to trickle through his mental fail-safes, due to the scars inflicted upon his psyche by previous encounters with Ekelhaft. He runs an internal check, and is nearly sent reeling from the result. His newmatter fabricators are gone. Just... gone! His internal sensors don't even register what's replaced them; there's something there, as his overall mass has not changed, but what appears to be a mystery.
Hoss begins to pace. He's faced worse challenges, and he can overcome this one. No matter that he has no hands. No matter that his only way to repair himself has inexplicably disappeared. No matter that his only working manipulator is stuck in blade form, serving as a prison to a slice of madness and rapidly draining his power reserves. No matter that, in spite of these failings, he still has to deal with five other entities that are or will eventually try to kill him, and might very possibly succeed.
His fuming is interrupted by a loud, annoying "YIP YIP YIP! GRRRYIP YIP YIP YIP!" Hoss looks down, and sees a small, almost hairless and obviously feral quadruped attempting to intimidate him, in some primitive bid for territory. On its frayed pink collar can still be read, in embroidered, sparkling diamond, "Princess". The tiny mammal's pathetic little tail shakes madly as the animal tries to keep it straight, failing only because "Princess" appears to be on the verge of vibrating itself to pieces. The creature prances with each bark, and eventually, in attempt to look bigger, turns to the side, continuing to glare. A grimace passes across Hoss's face as he recognizes the puny worm from his home planet's distant past. Discharging a grunt of disgust, Hoss kicks.
Structurally reinforced foot meets brittle organic bone, and the chihuahua explodes. The force released by Hoss's synthetic muscles carries his foot straight through the thin meat coverings of the dog's skin, vaporizing its malnourished ribcage and spattering its lungs and stomach across the field in a mist of blood. The two relatively intact halves of the disgusting creature go flying off in two directions, the spin imparted upon them by the blow serving sufficient to rip the legs and head off of their masses, further dividing the creature.
"You went extinct for a REASON!" Hoss shouts after the spinning chihuahua bits. Turning away, he realizes the burst of aggression has helped to calm him down. He finds a nearby rock, and sits, configuring his computational protocols for pure data processing. As he enters an almost meditative state, he looks down at his missing hand and impromptu prison, and an idea causes him to smile. Dredging up the data collected from the previous round, Hoss finally sets out to untangle the mystery of the arcane. Because with magic, who needs hands?
Hoss glances behind him. His ocular implants magnify the view before him, in time to see... something... happen to a dilapidated playground. He catches a glimpse of green, and rightly assumes Ekelhaft.
Speaking of...
He brings his attention to the gravity blade currently serving as prison to Ekelhaft Jr. The high-gravity environment of the blade prevents much data from escaping, and whatever the blob is thinking, if it can think, or doing, if it can still do, is a mystery to Hoss. All he knows for certain is that it is still alive, and the prison cannot yet be shut down.
Which is... problematic.
He had not expected to have his blade running for so long, and it is becoming a major power drain. Without any obvious way to replenish his gluon reserves, Hoss may be in trouble soon, if this continues. Not to mention keeping his left arm in gravity blade configuration knocks him down one hand. No matter, he can still reconstruct his missing right ha-
Shock whips his head with unnatural speed to gape at the sparking, silver-dripping stump on his right arm. He sends the reconstruct command again, and again, nothing happens. No, this is not possible. Not possible! Panic would grip the ancient cyborg, were he still fully human, and even so a small amount manages to trickle through his mental fail-safes, due to the scars inflicted upon his psyche by previous encounters with Ekelhaft. He runs an internal check, and is nearly sent reeling from the result. His newmatter fabricators are gone. Just... gone! His internal sensors don't even register what's replaced them; there's something there, as his overall mass has not changed, but what appears to be a mystery.
Hoss begins to pace. He's faced worse challenges, and he can overcome this one. No matter that he has no hands. No matter that his only way to repair himself has inexplicably disappeared. No matter that his only working manipulator is stuck in blade form, serving as a prison to a slice of madness and rapidly draining his power reserves. No matter that, in spite of these failings, he still has to deal with five other entities that are or will eventually try to kill him, and might very possibly succeed.
His fuming is interrupted by a loud, annoying "YIP YIP YIP! GRRRYIP YIP YIP YIP!" Hoss looks down, and sees a small, almost hairless and obviously feral quadruped attempting to intimidate him, in some primitive bid for territory. On its frayed pink collar can still be read, in embroidered, sparkling diamond, "Princess". The tiny mammal's pathetic little tail shakes madly as the animal tries to keep it straight, failing only because "Princess" appears to be on the verge of vibrating itself to pieces. The creature prances with each bark, and eventually, in attempt to look bigger, turns to the side, continuing to glare. A grimace passes across Hoss's face as he recognizes the puny worm from his home planet's distant past. Discharging a grunt of disgust, Hoss kicks.
Structurally reinforced foot meets brittle organic bone, and the chihuahua explodes. The force released by Hoss's synthetic muscles carries his foot straight through the thin meat coverings of the dog's skin, vaporizing its malnourished ribcage and spattering its lungs and stomach across the field in a mist of blood. The two relatively intact halves of the disgusting creature go flying off in two directions, the spin imparted upon them by the blow serving sufficient to rip the legs and head off of their masses, further dividing the creature.
"You went extinct for a REASON!" Hoss shouts after the spinning chihuahua bits. Turning away, he realizes the burst of aggression has helped to calm him down. He finds a nearby rock, and sits, configuring his computational protocols for pure data processing. As he enters an almost meditative state, he looks down at his missing hand and impromptu prison, and an idea causes him to smile. Dredging up the data collected from the previous round, Hoss finally sets out to untangle the mystery of the arcane. Because with magic, who needs hands?