Re: The Battle Royale S2 [Round 2: Prospect Creek]
01-27-2011, 11:57 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.
Umbra didn’t exactly seem very happy when a perfectly rendable face managed to escape, nor did it seem particularly pleased about getting drenched in maple syrup. It expressed all this with a rather predictable scream, which caused the Photographer to tense on the ground. It turned back towards where that other fleshbag was, but found that he had taken advantage of the fact that the dome had disappeared, and had indeed been taking advantage of this fact for some time now. This displeased the shadowy thing even more and it screamed again. It stepped forward, and then its foot sank in the drenched pancake floor. In fact, its everything was starting to sink in the drenched pancake floor.
Wardell had made some surprisingly fast progress over the past few minutes, but now it was getting extremely hard to move around. Not to mention this copy of A Brief History of Nearly Everything, the illustrated version, was quite possibly forever stuck to his hands, which was unfortunate because, although it made a competent umbrella, it certainly was heavy and not something he would like to have to hold forever.
The air was saturated with sickly sweet syrup and every other breath was a cough, which didn’t help much because then he had to gulp down more sugary air. The butter wasn’t that much better. He had sunk all the way down to his waist and would have sunk even more if the syrup had seeped down that far yet.
So okay, this was pretty bad, but hey, it could turn out alright. If he managed to wade right out of this pancake debacle, in any case. He could see the edge of the pancake right now. And then he’ll climb out of the pancake, much like climbing out of a pool. A pool of syrup that has already dried and was really making him feel like a piece of hard candy.
Behind him, he heard the unmistakable screech of Sereno, who appeared to have gotten used to its pancake surroundings and was, in fact, burrowing through it. Or maybe swimming through it. Must be easy when you don’t have a respiratory system.
Wardell glanced over his shoulder and oh man that thing’s quick and wait a minute, was it actually possible to swim through a pancake. “Hey, um, scarf…thing. I really, really need you to grab the edge of that pancake there and pull me over, that’d be nice, especially before this killer shadow thing comes and tears me to pieces okay.”
“Burble,” the scarf burbled. It appeared that so much syrup had rained down upon it that it was having a hard time being flexible.
“Oh great, oh great, I am going to die, and then I am going to die in a giant pancake, I am going to die in a giant pancake with A Short History of Nearly Everything in my hands, I am going to die talking to a scarf.”
“Burble,” the scarf burbled consolingly.
“Shut uuuuuuuuuup,” Wardell breathed out before Sereno caught up, grabbed his leg, and pulled him under.
------------------------------
The knife wasn’t particularly pleased about slowly sinking into a pancake wasteland nor did he understand much about what was actually going on. After all, as a knife, he really was just built for knifing things and anything else was sort of something extra. But he did understand that the Dream not appearing was a bad thing, possibly a Bad Thing and on the verge of being a Really Bad Thing. The appearance of that screaming shadow thing was all the way at the top of the sliding scale of bad thinginess, making it a Terribly Horrific Bad Thing. He had no idea what to do. The camera was the more sensible of the two. She just was. And now even in the Photographer’s dreams, she wasn’t fixed?
Something strange went on with him earlier, starting with him not responding at all to anything the knife said (which, at the time, was mostly ‘what the hell are you doing are you an idiot I can’t believe you’re saying this’). But, well, he was unconscious now. Maybe…his subconscious would be more willing to listen?
How did a knife ever get ahold of a word like ‘subconscious?’
Right now, the photographer was just shivering, which was a sure sign of a developing nightmare. But things were still being quite surreal around here, so maybe he could ease him out of it.
Hey. Heeeeeey. Hey, photographer. Dunno if you can hear me. But, uh. Hm. I’m not sure how to go about this…
And in the meantime, the Photographer was busy fending off the shadowy pancake demon lord with a cheese stick but oh man this was failing horribly, he should have brought some sugar. The syrup trap he was stuck in was just like glue and the magical chicken was having its life-force drained and gosh it was all his fault
It’s gonna be alright.
That came out of nowhere. Why did he just think that?
But suddenly, it did look like it would be alright. Because you have friends, Photographer, I hope you haven’t forgotten.
He always pulled through in the end and this pancake demon monster lord thing wasn’t going to beat him now.
Because I’m the photographer and I AM OKAY.
-------------------------------
He had to admit, A Short History of Nearly Everything made a pretty good bludgeoning weapon. It was too bad Sereno refused to let go. He was pretty sure he couldn’t hold his breath much longer.
Suddenly, something made Sereno screech and whirl around, leaving Wardell free to kick himself away and give the shadowy thing a farewell smack. As the bookworm frantically flailed about to get to the edge of the pancake once more, he couldn’t help but notice the words ‘The Dream Has Joined the Party’ appearing briefly nearby before turning into butter.
The Dream had apparently joined the party.
Umbra didn’t exactly seem very happy when a perfectly rendable face managed to escape, nor did it seem particularly pleased about getting drenched in maple syrup. It expressed all this with a rather predictable scream, which caused the Photographer to tense on the ground. It turned back towards where that other fleshbag was, but found that he had taken advantage of the fact that the dome had disappeared, and had indeed been taking advantage of this fact for some time now. This displeased the shadowy thing even more and it screamed again. It stepped forward, and then its foot sank in the drenched pancake floor. In fact, its everything was starting to sink in the drenched pancake floor.
Wardell had made some surprisingly fast progress over the past few minutes, but now it was getting extremely hard to move around. Not to mention this copy of A Brief History of Nearly Everything, the illustrated version, was quite possibly forever stuck to his hands, which was unfortunate because, although it made a competent umbrella, it certainly was heavy and not something he would like to have to hold forever.
The air was saturated with sickly sweet syrup and every other breath was a cough, which didn’t help much because then he had to gulp down more sugary air. The butter wasn’t that much better. He had sunk all the way down to his waist and would have sunk even more if the syrup had seeped down that far yet.
So okay, this was pretty bad, but hey, it could turn out alright. If he managed to wade right out of this pancake debacle, in any case. He could see the edge of the pancake right now. And then he’ll climb out of the pancake, much like climbing out of a pool. A pool of syrup that has already dried and was really making him feel like a piece of hard candy.
Behind him, he heard the unmistakable screech of Sereno, who appeared to have gotten used to its pancake surroundings and was, in fact, burrowing through it. Or maybe swimming through it. Must be easy when you don’t have a respiratory system.
Wardell glanced over his shoulder and oh man that thing’s quick and wait a minute, was it actually possible to swim through a pancake. “Hey, um, scarf…thing. I really, really need you to grab the edge of that pancake there and pull me over, that’d be nice, especially before this killer shadow thing comes and tears me to pieces okay.”
“Burble,” the scarf burbled. It appeared that so much syrup had rained down upon it that it was having a hard time being flexible.
“Oh great, oh great, I am going to die, and then I am going to die in a giant pancake, I am going to die in a giant pancake with A Short History of Nearly Everything in my hands, I am going to die talking to a scarf.”
“Burble,” the scarf burbled consolingly.
“Shut uuuuuuuuuup,” Wardell breathed out before Sereno caught up, grabbed his leg, and pulled him under.
------------------------------
The knife wasn’t particularly pleased about slowly sinking into a pancake wasteland nor did he understand much about what was actually going on. After all, as a knife, he really was just built for knifing things and anything else was sort of something extra. But he did understand that the Dream not appearing was a bad thing, possibly a Bad Thing and on the verge of being a Really Bad Thing. The appearance of that screaming shadow thing was all the way at the top of the sliding scale of bad thinginess, making it a Terribly Horrific Bad Thing. He had no idea what to do. The camera was the more sensible of the two. She just was. And now even in the Photographer’s dreams, she wasn’t fixed?
Something strange went on with him earlier, starting with him not responding at all to anything the knife said (which, at the time, was mostly ‘what the hell are you doing are you an idiot I can’t believe you’re saying this’). But, well, he was unconscious now. Maybe…his subconscious would be more willing to listen?
How did a knife ever get ahold of a word like ‘subconscious?’
Right now, the photographer was just shivering, which was a sure sign of a developing nightmare. But things were still being quite surreal around here, so maybe he could ease him out of it.
Hey. Heeeeeey. Hey, photographer. Dunno if you can hear me. But, uh. Hm. I’m not sure how to go about this…
And in the meantime, the Photographer was busy fending off the shadowy pancake demon lord with a cheese stick but oh man this was failing horribly, he should have brought some sugar. The syrup trap he was stuck in was just like glue and the magical chicken was having its life-force drained and gosh it was all his fault
It’s gonna be alright.
That came out of nowhere. Why did he just think that?
But suddenly, it did look like it would be alright. Because you have friends, Photographer, I hope you haven’t forgotten.
He always pulled through in the end and this pancake demon monster lord thing wasn’t going to beat him now.
Because I’m the photographer and I AM OKAY.
-------------------------------
He had to admit, A Short History of Nearly Everything made a pretty good bludgeoning weapon. It was too bad Sereno refused to let go. He was pretty sure he couldn’t hold his breath much longer.
Suddenly, something made Sereno screech and whirl around, leaving Wardell free to kick himself away and give the shadowy thing a farewell smack. As the bookworm frantically flailed about to get to the edge of the pancake once more, he couldn’t help but notice the words ‘The Dream Has Joined the Party’ appearing briefly nearby before turning into butter.
The Dream had apparently joined the party.