Re: DEATHGAME 9000 [S!3] Round Two: Interplanetary Circus
01-14-2013, 03:04 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by -Benedict.
Running low on cash is a terrible thing. It's an even more terrible thing when you're at the circus, because of how many exciting things there are to see and buy. But you can't buy them, because they're expensive and you're trying to save up for something important. And all this terribleness is magnified when you're running low on cash, you're at the circus, and the circus is in space and it's full of unknown wonders from across the galaxy.
These are all reasons why Jax Ryder, Intergalactic Ridewright, was in a very bad mood. As it happens, it's very difficult to sell used cars at the circus. And while it had been difficult to sell used cars in much less populated areas (the giant abandoned barge in the middle of an oil ocean, especially), he'd never had to abandon a sale because a client thought you were a clown and your pitch was an act and they didn't actually want to buy anything.
It was also difficult for Jax Ryder to sell cars at the circus because he couldn't take anyone for a test drive. There wasn't a great deal of empty space out in space- wait, no, that's not right. There wasn't a great deal of empty ground out in space, with which to drive a vehicle with chainsaws for wheels without mangling civilians. And it had been difficult to explain to people that no, the Roadwrecker V9 did NOT fly, and if they wanted a spaceship then why weren't they asking the spaceship vendor by the big top?
Jax had managed to make one sale, and that was to a stage crew that needed something to haul away some hyper-dense Quugian Elephronx dung. He'd had to reluctantly strip it of its laser cannons and sell it at a discount, which struck him as a profound mistreatment of a 50-sleipnirpower Ramming Cart. But money was money, even though he didn't recognize the currency.
Whatever. There were like ten more of those things in the back.
After a lengthy and fruitless attempt to find additional customers for his specialty vehicles, Jax was just about ready to hit the road. The circus wasn't really doing it for him- lack of business aside, constant bright lights and offensive smells start to get a guy down after a while. And his only real ticket out, he'd been informed, was to fulfill the condition to begin the next round. The condition, conveniently enough, was always the same- find some other shmuck in the running and make sure they bite the dust. Not all that difficult so far, but things were kinda heating up lately. To be honest, he was starting to get kinda worried about his situation.
There were three other unfortunates caught up in this batshit contest, and if Jax was honest (not often) he didn't like his chances with any of them. The psychic, maybe, he could run down... if he had a clear shot, and could go fast enough that his fancy mind powers wouldn't see it coming. He never really had an opening, though. Guy always seems to be where you're not. Or maybe... well, no. He couldn't possibly kill that one. Not without... well, enough about that one.
But that just left Princess Rollerskates or whatever, and... well, gosh, he couldn't hurt a darling like her. She was just so charming, even back when she called him an unscrupulous sewer rat and convinced everybody to try to kill him. All things considered, though, she was really the only easy target left- not totally true, he supposed, since her uncommon athleticism made her tough to charge even without an omnipresent crowd of innocent bystanders in the way. Jax wasn't sure the people in these contests were real, technically, but all that needless bloodshed would ruin the hood of any of his rides. Plus, really distasteful.
_____________________________
Moving out was proving difficult. It might have been obvious to something capable of real forethought, but as it was, Gomorrah did not anticipate that circusgoers bored and irritated by an act would simply leave. When the negative energy of the crowd had peaked, the city had attempted to take complete control. The Goggwheggler had languished in the pit, unresponsive to the shouts of its trainers. But as dissatisfied tourists filed out of the tent, Gomorrah was spread thin. It needed to be more devious about this- it needed a way to cure the entire circus of its choking atmosphere of cheer, before it could do more than flit from place to place and perform its usual macabre reenactments.
It was not very smart, and didn't have the slightest clue how to do anything like that. Rising to power in a place explicitly dedicated to happiness would be no easy task.
_____________________________
Finding another contestant to kill in this crowd would be no easy task. Like, it hadn't been too tough to tell who was a battler before- just find whoever looked like a circus freak and make them survive less. This heuristic was markedly less effective in a literal circus, though. Compared to the menagerie of oddballs here, even that one looked normal. Hiding wouldn't be all that hard around here, actually, but Jax was determined to end this farce as soon as possible.
He was making his way through the crowd on, to his mild annoyance, a modified Segway, rather than any sort of actually badass set of wheels. I mean, sure, the wheels turned into deadly sawblades and the handle could detach and fire a high-energy ion pulse, but it just wasn't the same. It's not really a ride unless it's belching smoke and/or flames- but a decent ride wouldn't have been able to navigate these godforsaken food court crowds. What made the whole spectacle even more embarrassing was that nobody even seemed to NOTICE- he was as invisible in the pangalactic crowd as an invisible... guy... was, in a crowd. An invisible crowd? Similies were never really Jax's strong point.
Then, by an incredible stroke of luck, he caught sight of a familiar face. And sure enough, that face was already getting up from his seat. The bastard probably knew he was coming. Read his mind, or something. Friggin' psychics, using their bogus voodoo to mess with people. He gunned the tiny excuse for an engine on his ride, wheeling around to face his competitor.
"Ey, buddy! How's it been? Long time no see, ain't that right?"
The psychic stood stock still in front of Lynette and Aria's table. "...What do you want?"
"Who's that you got there? Couple of lady friends?" Jax lifted his shades and leered down at the pair of girls, a crooked grin parting his lips. "Didn't figure you the type to pick yourself up a little entourage, brah!"
"Did you want something?" The man's fists clenched, his body becoming visibly tense.
"I never got your name, friend! I must've heard it somewhere, but I bet it plumb slipped my mind. Mind like a steel seive, here!" Jax lifted his baseball cap to tap his head, revealing a blue-dyed mohawk underneath. Most people assumed Jax's wardrobe was attempting to make some sort of statement, and politely declined to comment.
"I never told you my name." The psychic looked ready to... well, he looked ready to do something. "Again: what do you want?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, pal! Have we not been introduced properly? The name's Jax Ryder, Intergalactic Ridewright, at your service." Jax swept his cap down in a theatrical bow. "May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?"
A person with less self-control, faced with a man who he'd, not 24 hours ago, seen impale a small child on his hood ornament, might have looked like they were about to garotte someone with electrified wire. The psychic man, however, was a more restrained sort, and merely looked like he was about to deck someone in the jaw.
The psychic man came very close to decking Jax Rider in the jaw, but didn't. "Please leave us alone."
"Buddy, I don't know about you, but I'd love to just split, y'know? Problem is, there's some unpleasant circumstances going on." Jax backed up a few steps, and grabbed the handle of his Segway. "Word has it, actually, that one of us has to get hella killed if anyone's going to make it out."
"What do you say to that?" he asked, as the handle began to crackle with dangerous-looking energy.
Running low on cash is a terrible thing. It's an even more terrible thing when you're at the circus, because of how many exciting things there are to see and buy. But you can't buy them, because they're expensive and you're trying to save up for something important. And all this terribleness is magnified when you're running low on cash, you're at the circus, and the circus is in space and it's full of unknown wonders from across the galaxy.
These are all reasons why Jax Ryder, Intergalactic Ridewright, was in a very bad mood. As it happens, it's very difficult to sell used cars at the circus. And while it had been difficult to sell used cars in much less populated areas (the giant abandoned barge in the middle of an oil ocean, especially), he'd never had to abandon a sale because a client thought you were a clown and your pitch was an act and they didn't actually want to buy anything.
It was also difficult for Jax Ryder to sell cars at the circus because he couldn't take anyone for a test drive. There wasn't a great deal of empty space out in space- wait, no, that's not right. There wasn't a great deal of empty ground out in space, with which to drive a vehicle with chainsaws for wheels without mangling civilians. And it had been difficult to explain to people that no, the Roadwrecker V9 did NOT fly, and if they wanted a spaceship then why weren't they asking the spaceship vendor by the big top?
Jax had managed to make one sale, and that was to a stage crew that needed something to haul away some hyper-dense Quugian Elephronx dung. He'd had to reluctantly strip it of its laser cannons and sell it at a discount, which struck him as a profound mistreatment of a 50-sleipnirpower Ramming Cart. But money was money, even though he didn't recognize the currency.
Whatever. There were like ten more of those things in the back.
After a lengthy and fruitless attempt to find additional customers for his specialty vehicles, Jax was just about ready to hit the road. The circus wasn't really doing it for him- lack of business aside, constant bright lights and offensive smells start to get a guy down after a while. And his only real ticket out, he'd been informed, was to fulfill the condition to begin the next round. The condition, conveniently enough, was always the same- find some other shmuck in the running and make sure they bite the dust. Not all that difficult so far, but things were kinda heating up lately. To be honest, he was starting to get kinda worried about his situation.
There were three other unfortunates caught up in this batshit contest, and if Jax was honest (not often) he didn't like his chances with any of them. The psychic, maybe, he could run down... if he had a clear shot, and could go fast enough that his fancy mind powers wouldn't see it coming. He never really had an opening, though. Guy always seems to be where you're not. Or maybe... well, no. He couldn't possibly kill that one. Not without... well, enough about that one.
But that just left Princess Rollerskates or whatever, and... well, gosh, he couldn't hurt a darling like her. She was just so charming, even back when she called him an unscrupulous sewer rat and convinced everybody to try to kill him. All things considered, though, she was really the only easy target left- not totally true, he supposed, since her uncommon athleticism made her tough to charge even without an omnipresent crowd of innocent bystanders in the way. Jax wasn't sure the people in these contests were real, technically, but all that needless bloodshed would ruin the hood of any of his rides. Plus, really distasteful.
_____________________________
Moving out was proving difficult. It might have been obvious to something capable of real forethought, but as it was, Gomorrah did not anticipate that circusgoers bored and irritated by an act would simply leave. When the negative energy of the crowd had peaked, the city had attempted to take complete control. The Goggwheggler had languished in the pit, unresponsive to the shouts of its trainers. But as dissatisfied tourists filed out of the tent, Gomorrah was spread thin. It needed to be more devious about this- it needed a way to cure the entire circus of its choking atmosphere of cheer, before it could do more than flit from place to place and perform its usual macabre reenactments.
It was not very smart, and didn't have the slightest clue how to do anything like that. Rising to power in a place explicitly dedicated to happiness would be no easy task.
_____________________________
Finding another contestant to kill in this crowd would be no easy task. Like, it hadn't been too tough to tell who was a battler before- just find whoever looked like a circus freak and make them survive less. This heuristic was markedly less effective in a literal circus, though. Compared to the menagerie of oddballs here, even that one looked normal. Hiding wouldn't be all that hard around here, actually, but Jax was determined to end this farce as soon as possible.
He was making his way through the crowd on, to his mild annoyance, a modified Segway, rather than any sort of actually badass set of wheels. I mean, sure, the wheels turned into deadly sawblades and the handle could detach and fire a high-energy ion pulse, but it just wasn't the same. It's not really a ride unless it's belching smoke and/or flames- but a decent ride wouldn't have been able to navigate these godforsaken food court crowds. What made the whole spectacle even more embarrassing was that nobody even seemed to NOTICE- he was as invisible in the pangalactic crowd as an invisible... guy... was, in a crowd. An invisible crowd? Similies were never really Jax's strong point.
Then, by an incredible stroke of luck, he caught sight of a familiar face. And sure enough, that face was already getting up from his seat. The bastard probably knew he was coming. Read his mind, or something. Friggin' psychics, using their bogus voodoo to mess with people. He gunned the tiny excuse for an engine on his ride, wheeling around to face his competitor.
"Ey, buddy! How's it been? Long time no see, ain't that right?"
The psychic stood stock still in front of Lynette and Aria's table. "...What do you want?"
"Who's that you got there? Couple of lady friends?" Jax lifted his shades and leered down at the pair of girls, a crooked grin parting his lips. "Didn't figure you the type to pick yourself up a little entourage, brah!"
"Did you want something?" The man's fists clenched, his body becoming visibly tense.
"I never got your name, friend! I must've heard it somewhere, but I bet it plumb slipped my mind. Mind like a steel seive, here!" Jax lifted his baseball cap to tap his head, revealing a blue-dyed mohawk underneath. Most people assumed Jax's wardrobe was attempting to make some sort of statement, and politely declined to comment.
"I never told you my name." The psychic looked ready to... well, he looked ready to do something. "Again: what do you want?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, pal! Have we not been introduced properly? The name's Jax Ryder, Intergalactic Ridewright, at your service." Jax swept his cap down in a theatrical bow. "May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?"
A person with less self-control, faced with a man who he'd, not 24 hours ago, seen impale a small child on his hood ornament, might have looked like they were about to garotte someone with electrified wire. The psychic man, however, was a more restrained sort, and merely looked like he was about to deck someone in the jaw.
The psychic man came very close to decking Jax Rider in the jaw, but didn't. "Please leave us alone."
"Buddy, I don't know about you, but I'd love to just split, y'know? Problem is, there's some unpleasant circumstances going on." Jax backed up a few steps, and grabbed the handle of his Segway. "Word has it, actually, that one of us has to get hella killed if anyone's going to make it out."
"What do you say to that?" he asked, as the handle began to crackle with dangerous-looking energy.