Re: Mini-Grand 5110 <Round 2: Chrome City>
12-06-2011, 08:20 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Agent1022.
Burgrar flailed, limblessly. Flank it! Flank that rabbit! Bore into its flesh! The wind in the burger joint was picking up even further, and some of the smaller children were whipped off their feet amid their mother’s screams. And at the counter, Tulip wondered why the clerk was looking panickedly around and up at the ceiling – she spared a glance herself and saw only ventilation grills. Boooooring.
“Excuuuuuuse me, but what about the-”
Freddie keened as fries battered it from every side – he tried to grasp at their consciousness, to try for some control, but individually they were just too damn simple –
But as a group, you imbecile! As a group, they are yours!
He tried – but that accursed burger’s field seeped across the psychic plane like a psychedelic stain, and each time he brushed against its influence it brought something akin to excruciating pain, only yellow.
And this goddamn wind was everywhere.
Fries! To me! The burger held on tight to the table as drinks, papers, hats, candles, cakes, the flask of whisky one of the dads had secreted under his jacket, straws and miscellaneous light items all went flying in a maelstrom of rushing air.
“What’s all this wind, anyway?” Despite the chaos swirling about them, Tulip, clerk and counter all stood in a pool of calm, the petals on the butterfly’s tulips barely ruffled. All around them in the gale small objects like paper cups, loose change, lighters and babies whirled around in an almost eerie quiet, as if sound itself were being caught up and taken away in the circular jetstream around them. Every so often, a scream from the assembled masses would penetrate the wind and arrive, muffled, to their ears. Through the whirling dust and debris, the clerk could see the patrons pounding on the outward-opening door, forced shut with the negative pressure of the accelerating air. “Oooh is this the prize this doesn’t seem like a prize can I have my prize?”
The clerk tried to edge away from the Battlemonster – then felt the wind at her back, and thought better of it. As the human mind is wont to do in times of stress, she defaulted to pretending that there wasn’t a storm accumulating inside the building, that the butterfly of tulips hovering in front of her was just an ordinary customer, and that tomorrow would be the same as today. It’s a wonderful coping mechanism, but not a very productive one. “I’ll have to check with my mana-” A thought struck her, and she looked back through the winds to see, through the glass window of his office, her manager desperately holding shut the office door, fixtures creaking as they were torn from their moorings – and thought better of it. “You know what? I think – in the spirit of, um, mateship, and, um…justherehaveaprize!” she screamed, thrusting out a little plastic-wrapped plastic bauble-
“The wind –” But for a split second, Tulip’s mind wasn’t on prizes. “Gosh, am I doing that?”
And then, it was all Burgrar could do to hang on as the windows shattered, the walls imploded, and the tornado burst from the roof of the Burger Bar –
Burgrar flailed, limblessly. Flank it! Flank that rabbit! Bore into its flesh! The wind in the burger joint was picking up even further, and some of the smaller children were whipped off their feet amid their mother’s screams. And at the counter, Tulip wondered why the clerk was looking panickedly around and up at the ceiling – she spared a glance herself and saw only ventilation grills. Boooooring.
“Excuuuuuuse me, but what about the-”
Freddie keened as fries battered it from every side – he tried to grasp at their consciousness, to try for some control, but individually they were just too damn simple –
But as a group, you imbecile! As a group, they are yours!
He tried – but that accursed burger’s field seeped across the psychic plane like a psychedelic stain, and each time he brushed against its influence it brought something akin to excruciating pain, only yellow.
And this goddamn wind was everywhere.
Fries! To me! The burger held on tight to the table as drinks, papers, hats, candles, cakes, the flask of whisky one of the dads had secreted under his jacket, straws and miscellaneous light items all went flying in a maelstrom of rushing air.
“What’s all this wind, anyway?” Despite the chaos swirling about them, Tulip, clerk and counter all stood in a pool of calm, the petals on the butterfly’s tulips barely ruffled. All around them in the gale small objects like paper cups, loose change, lighters and babies whirled around in an almost eerie quiet, as if sound itself were being caught up and taken away in the circular jetstream around them. Every so often, a scream from the assembled masses would penetrate the wind and arrive, muffled, to their ears. Through the whirling dust and debris, the clerk could see the patrons pounding on the outward-opening door, forced shut with the negative pressure of the accelerating air. “Oooh is this the prize this doesn’t seem like a prize can I have my prize?”
The clerk tried to edge away from the Battlemonster – then felt the wind at her back, and thought better of it. As the human mind is wont to do in times of stress, she defaulted to pretending that there wasn’t a storm accumulating inside the building, that the butterfly of tulips hovering in front of her was just an ordinary customer, and that tomorrow would be the same as today. It’s a wonderful coping mechanism, but not a very productive one. “I’ll have to check with my mana-” A thought struck her, and she looked back through the winds to see, through the glass window of his office, her manager desperately holding shut the office door, fixtures creaking as they were torn from their moorings – and thought better of it. “You know what? I think – in the spirit of, um, mateship, and, um…justherehaveaprize!” she screamed, thrusting out a little plastic-wrapped plastic bauble-
“The wind –” But for a split second, Tulip’s mind wasn’t on prizes. “Gosh, am I doing that?”
And then, it was all Burgrar could do to hang on as the windows shattered, the walls imploded, and the tornado burst from the roof of the Burger Bar –
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So very British / But then again | People are machines Machines are people | Oh hai there | There's no time
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Superhero 1920s noir | Multigenre Half-Life | Changing the future | Command line interface
Tu ventire felix? | Clockwork for eternity | Explosions in spacetime