Re: Battle Royale! (FULL) (one way or another)
10-16-2009, 07:43 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
The Composer spirits the eight contestants off into a little pocket dimension. Each finds themselves standing alone in utter darkness. The silence is enveloping, un-nerving. Every breath, every creak of a weapon against its sheath fills each contestant's ears. The atmosphere offers no clues to the scope of this room. Without any light, it seems both infinitely huge and claustrophobically small.
In this warped darkness, the calm, cultured voice of the Composer chimes out.
"Welcome contestants. This is the Battle Royale, an orchestrated deathmatch in seven Acts, and you are the noble players in this fight. Only one of you will survive to see the end of this, but I assure you that once your part has been played you will be returned home.
Let us begin." The contestants feel rather than see the dimensions of the room changing until it approximates a stadium. A pillar of light suddenly pierces the room, extending upwards into infinity and with a startled looking Cobra at its foot.
"Our first contestant is the Fang Layonin, Cobra." The Composer seemed to pause, as though waiting for applause, but none was forthcoming, so it contined. "Cobra volunteered for this tournament to rescue his love. Will his quest end in triumph or tragedy? The choice is yours."
A second beam of light tore through the darkness, resting upon a man with a dog-mask.
"Please welcome Xeno Photon. He fights for a promise to remove his cursed mask and return home. I am certain you will discover the nature of the curse, and his sword, without undue delay."
Beam three swallowed up the figure standing in it, he being smaller than the other contestants.
"Contestant three has a gift I hold dear to my heart - the power to forge life. Please welcome Gadget Solune to the Battle.
Here, we have a practitioner of vectorial psychokinesis, Mike Shaun. Sources inform us he is highly unstable, so I recommend you exercise caution."
A green-eyed man with bladed gauntlets was lit up next. "Next is General Zeke, an experienced soldier. If he survives this, he plans to take down the master of his own world."
In the next pillar of light, there was only a black, masked shadow. "One of our participants harking the non-human realms today is Grimm, the Eclipse. Another experienced fighter."
"Whit O'Donal, you've joined us today because supposedly you're the luckiest man alive. We'll see how that works out for you."
There was a pause, and the sound was cut off, as the Composer grumbled to Creator Fawn: "You gave him a gun?" The Creator replied unintelligibly; the Composer continued in a tone that was only marginally more irritated:
"And our final contestant is... Itzal Argi. He is somewhat of an enigma, and a master of illusion.
Well, now that you are all acquainted, we shall begin." The lights extinguished in unison, before the whole world suddenly lit up. The contestants were divided into four pairs, each pair suddenly appearing atop a different building in a huge, grey, deserted city.
The four buildings were the biggest, towering over the others. A voice drifted out of nowhere and everywhere:
"Welcome to Airstrip One, Oceania, Nineteen-Eighty-Four. Big Brother is always watching."
The game had begun.
The Composer spirits the eight contestants off into a little pocket dimension. Each finds themselves standing alone in utter darkness. The silence is enveloping, un-nerving. Every breath, every creak of a weapon against its sheath fills each contestant's ears. The atmosphere offers no clues to the scope of this room. Without any light, it seems both infinitely huge and claustrophobically small.
In this warped darkness, the calm, cultured voice of the Composer chimes out.
"Welcome contestants. This is the Battle Royale, an orchestrated deathmatch in seven Acts, and you are the noble players in this fight. Only one of you will survive to see the end of this, but I assure you that once your part has been played you will be returned home.
Let us begin." The contestants feel rather than see the dimensions of the room changing until it approximates a stadium. A pillar of light suddenly pierces the room, extending upwards into infinity and with a startled looking Cobra at its foot.
"Our first contestant is the Fang Layonin, Cobra." The Composer seemed to pause, as though waiting for applause, but none was forthcoming, so it contined. "Cobra volunteered for this tournament to rescue his love. Will his quest end in triumph or tragedy? The choice is yours."
A second beam of light tore through the darkness, resting upon a man with a dog-mask.
"Please welcome Xeno Photon. He fights for a promise to remove his cursed mask and return home. I am certain you will discover the nature of the curse, and his sword, without undue delay."
Beam three swallowed up the figure standing in it, he being smaller than the other contestants.
"Contestant three has a gift I hold dear to my heart - the power to forge life. Please welcome Gadget Solune to the Battle.
Here, we have a practitioner of vectorial psychokinesis, Mike Shaun. Sources inform us he is highly unstable, so I recommend you exercise caution."
A green-eyed man with bladed gauntlets was lit up next. "Next is General Zeke, an experienced soldier. If he survives this, he plans to take down the master of his own world."
In the next pillar of light, there was only a black, masked shadow. "One of our participants harking the non-human realms today is Grimm, the Eclipse. Another experienced fighter."
"Whit O'Donal, you've joined us today because supposedly you're the luckiest man alive. We'll see how that works out for you."
There was a pause, and the sound was cut off, as the Composer grumbled to Creator Fawn: "You gave him a gun?" The Creator replied unintelligibly; the Composer continued in a tone that was only marginally more irritated:
"And our final contestant is... Itzal Argi. He is somewhat of an enigma, and a master of illusion.
Well, now that you are all acquainted, we shall begin." The lights extinguished in unison, before the whole world suddenly lit up. The contestants were divided into four pairs, each pair suddenly appearing atop a different building in a huge, grey, deserted city.
The four buildings were the biggest, towering over the others. A voice drifted out of nowhere and everywhere:
"Welcome to Airstrip One, Oceania, Nineteen-Eighty-Four. Big Brother is always watching."
The game had begun.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow