Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 3: Abandoned Park]
06-21-2010, 11:55 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
Gormand munched on a pretzel stick. He wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting. He, along with seven others, had been whisked away from their homes by an insufferably absentminded semigod-thing and thrown wantonly about the uni- or possibly multiverse to kill each other for no particularly acceptable reason. They had been to a haunted cavern complex purported to be the underworld, the house of a giant sorcerer (or the giant house of a sorcerer), and now a postapocalyptic dog park. The first had had no discernible exits; the second had a fifty percent chance of escape not mattering anyway.
He hadn't expected it to be this easy.
The wrought-iron bars descending from the sky appeared to be, in fact, wrought-iron bars. Despite the ominous way they shot up into infinity overhead, they looked exactly like a typical metal fence. The metal hadn't aged well, though; despite all the plant growth in the park proper, the grass around the fence was stunted from a heavy precipitation of disintegrating rusty flakes. Aside from the obviously abnormal height there was nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary.
At least, not from a distance.
As he made his approach, Gormand gradually became aware of a faint tingly sensation radiating outward from his pupil. It wasn't exactly unpleasant so much as it simply was, though he suspected one more sensitive than he might find the feeling ticklish. The meatball considered the possibility that the feeling might simply be nerves moments before he felt as though he was being stabbed by thousands of miniature needles. Deciding that perhaps the barrier was somewhat more dangerous than it seemed, he backed away, and the pain subsided.
Now Gormand was curious, much in the way one might be curious as to what mechanism that neigh-invisible wire activated when broken. He examined his modest carbostave collection, testing each pillar of crunchy dough for sogginess, saltiness, stability, and the like. Settling on the least palatable of his pretzel sticks, he lifted the snack above his head, twirling it about a few times for good measure before launching it at the fence.
The stick clattered ineffectually against the iron bars and fell to the ground.
The meatball sighed, once again unsure of what his expectation had been. Perhaps had his projectile turned to dust, or bust into flame, or exploded... But no, of course whatever defensive mechanism the fence held would not activate for a goddamn pretzel stick. What he needed-
*whine*
For the bedraggled husk of a Shih Tzu, Gormand could only have seemed something from a dream: a hulking mound of still-fresh, well-seasoned, high-quality ground beef, interspersed with thick pillars of firm-yet-soft, lightly buttered noodles. The pup looked wonderingly at the great mound of meat before her, and was too engrossed by the idea of eating something that hadn't been festering for a week that it didn't even flinch when it's soon-to-be-meal turned and looked at it. A thin strand of viscous drool flowed from the canine's mouth; the sole reason she hadn't begun devouring the meatball already was that she simply didn't know where to start.
All that was rendered null and void, however, when one of the colossal strands of pasta grabbed her around the midsection. Howling in pain with half-crushed lungs, she bit ineffectually into the constricting cable, finding the flavor inexplicably bitter. Her release was unexpectedly abrupt, as was the force with which she was sent flying through the air. Fortunately, she managed not to die of internal hemorrhaging.
Not five feet from the fence, the scrawny pup was incinerated by a trunk-like bolt of electricity.
Gormand stumbled backwards, half-blinded by the unexpected burst of energy. He might have felt sorry for the pup he'd thrown into the trap, but was too amazed at the sheer unnecessary volume of power that had been channeled into it. Still, the dog had served its purpose and answered the pertinent question: What was keeping them from leaving the park? Massive electrical discharge.
As his sight returned, Gormand became aware of a figure standing in the grass behind him, laughing quietly.
"Impressive."
Gormand munched on a pretzel stick. He wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting. He, along with seven others, had been whisked away from their homes by an insufferably absentminded semigod-thing and thrown wantonly about the uni- or possibly multiverse to kill each other for no particularly acceptable reason. They had been to a haunted cavern complex purported to be the underworld, the house of a giant sorcerer (or the giant house of a sorcerer), and now a postapocalyptic dog park. The first had had no discernible exits; the second had a fifty percent chance of escape not mattering anyway.
He hadn't expected it to be this easy.
The wrought-iron bars descending from the sky appeared to be, in fact, wrought-iron bars. Despite the ominous way they shot up into infinity overhead, they looked exactly like a typical metal fence. The metal hadn't aged well, though; despite all the plant growth in the park proper, the grass around the fence was stunted from a heavy precipitation of disintegrating rusty flakes. Aside from the obviously abnormal height there was nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary.
At least, not from a distance.
As he made his approach, Gormand gradually became aware of a faint tingly sensation radiating outward from his pupil. It wasn't exactly unpleasant so much as it simply was, though he suspected one more sensitive than he might find the feeling ticklish. The meatball considered the possibility that the feeling might simply be nerves moments before he felt as though he was being stabbed by thousands of miniature needles. Deciding that perhaps the barrier was somewhat more dangerous than it seemed, he backed away, and the pain subsided.
Now Gormand was curious, much in the way one might be curious as to what mechanism that neigh-invisible wire activated when broken. He examined his modest carbostave collection, testing each pillar of crunchy dough for sogginess, saltiness, stability, and the like. Settling on the least palatable of his pretzel sticks, he lifted the snack above his head, twirling it about a few times for good measure before launching it at the fence.
The stick clattered ineffectually against the iron bars and fell to the ground.
The meatball sighed, once again unsure of what his expectation had been. Perhaps had his projectile turned to dust, or bust into flame, or exploded... But no, of course whatever defensive mechanism the fence held would not activate for a goddamn pretzel stick. What he needed-
*whine*
For the bedraggled husk of a Shih Tzu, Gormand could only have seemed something from a dream: a hulking mound of still-fresh, well-seasoned, high-quality ground beef, interspersed with thick pillars of firm-yet-soft, lightly buttered noodles. The pup looked wonderingly at the great mound of meat before her, and was too engrossed by the idea of eating something that hadn't been festering for a week that it didn't even flinch when it's soon-to-be-meal turned and looked at it. A thin strand of viscous drool flowed from the canine's mouth; the sole reason she hadn't begun devouring the meatball already was that she simply didn't know where to start.
All that was rendered null and void, however, when one of the colossal strands of pasta grabbed her around the midsection. Howling in pain with half-crushed lungs, she bit ineffectually into the constricting cable, finding the flavor inexplicably bitter. Her release was unexpectedly abrupt, as was the force with which she was sent flying through the air. Fortunately, she managed not to die of internal hemorrhaging.
Not five feet from the fence, the scrawny pup was incinerated by a trunk-like bolt of electricity.
Gormand stumbled backwards, half-blinded by the unexpected burst of energy. He might have felt sorry for the pup he'd thrown into the trap, but was too amazed at the sheer unnecessary volume of power that had been channeled into it. Still, the dog had served its purpose and answered the pertinent question: What was keeping them from leaving the park? Massive electrical discharge.
As his sight returned, Gormand became aware of a figure standing in the grass behind him, laughing quietly.
"Impressive."