Re: Battle Royale! Round 4: Artistry
01-05-2010, 01:56 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Now, where were we...?
The Composer trailed her fingers through the ether irritably, having conjured up and discarded various battlefields to test the contestants' limits. Staring at her hands, those tools which had the power to shape entire worlds, she finally had an idea. Several gestures later, and she wielded an old-fashioned ink pen, with a nib, in one hand, and a bottle of ink in the other. Dipping pen in ink, the Composer smiled to herself as she began to draw.
The contestants, meanwhile, had becoming increasingly aware of their existence within an endless nothingness; some even spotted blurry blobs which may've been their foe. They glanced warily around, trying to ascertain if something had gone wrong, if an opportunity had presented itself to escape the Composer's game.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the sudden existence of a pen, which carved across the nothing to leave a jet-black horizon, dividing sky and land. The five had no time to ponder this development before a pencil and ruler materialised also; beginning to sketch up a castle before the contestants' eyes (who by now had no doubt that this was their newest arena).
Despite their normal proportions, the implements were capable of destroying the laws of perspective - The ruler and pencil surged towards a surprised Whit, drawing a neat horizontal line that read as no more than thirty centimetres, yet left a foundation to the castle a good thirty metres long.
The pencil and ruler created the castle from the inside out, while the pen wasted time adorning the blank sky with a sun and several unmoving clouds. An eraser bounded past Gadget, heading for the castle and beginning to erase the pencilled interior walls which logic dictated could no longer be visible as the exterior walls were added.
The pen also joined in the castle-making festivities, reinforcing some more load-bearing lines with its stronger black ink. When it was complete, the ruler and eraser were somewhere in the castle, and the pencil finished by drawing a flag upon a corner battlement and clattering to a halt. The plink as it hit the fresh stone was made all the more audible by the complete lack of noise in this near-lifeless world.
The pen, meanwhile, had soared up into the sky where it began a letter to the contestants in a cursive hand. Towards the end, it ran out of ink and cut the message short in a scratchy, blotted mess as the pen plummetted into the golden wheat fields it had drawn in front of the castle only moments before.
The message read: Welcome to your new battlefield. Exercise caution with these, the tools of go~
Now, where were we...?
The Composer trailed her fingers through the ether irritably, having conjured up and discarded various battlefields to test the contestants' limits. Staring at her hands, those tools which had the power to shape entire worlds, she finally had an idea. Several gestures later, and she wielded an old-fashioned ink pen, with a nib, in one hand, and a bottle of ink in the other. Dipping pen in ink, the Composer smiled to herself as she began to draw.
The contestants, meanwhile, had becoming increasingly aware of their existence within an endless nothingness; some even spotted blurry blobs which may've been their foe. They glanced warily around, trying to ascertain if something had gone wrong, if an opportunity had presented itself to escape the Composer's game.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the sudden existence of a pen, which carved across the nothing to leave a jet-black horizon, dividing sky and land. The five had no time to ponder this development before a pencil and ruler materialised also; beginning to sketch up a castle before the contestants' eyes (who by now had no doubt that this was their newest arena).
Despite their normal proportions, the implements were capable of destroying the laws of perspective - The ruler and pencil surged towards a surprised Whit, drawing a neat horizontal line that read as no more than thirty centimetres, yet left a foundation to the castle a good thirty metres long.
The pencil and ruler created the castle from the inside out, while the pen wasted time adorning the blank sky with a sun and several unmoving clouds. An eraser bounded past Gadget, heading for the castle and beginning to erase the pencilled interior walls which logic dictated could no longer be visible as the exterior walls were added.
The pen also joined in the castle-making festivities, reinforcing some more load-bearing lines with its stronger black ink. When it was complete, the ruler and eraser were somewhere in the castle, and the pencil finished by drawing a flag upon a corner battlement and clattering to a halt. The plink as it hit the fresh stone was made all the more audible by the complete lack of noise in this near-lifeless world.
The pen, meanwhile, had soared up into the sky where it began a letter to the contestants in a cursive hand. Towards the end, it ran out of ink and cut the message short in a scratchy, blotted mess as the pen plummetted into the golden wheat fields it had drawn in front of the castle only moments before.
The message read: Welcome to your new battlefield. Exercise caution with these, the tools of go~
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