Re: Battle Royale! Round 4: Artistry
01-21-2010, 04:02 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
The Observer took his leave. The lines of the world started to fade in the eyes of each contestant, until they stood alone in endlessness. The Creators watched the Composer's handiwork, as the deity took her sweet time pondering the next battlefield.
"If you've already established a battlefield, Composer, what's keeping you?" Yifan ventured this.
"Hmm? Oh... I suppose now that the stage has been... ah, cleared, to some extent, it is time to... raise the stakes, would you not think?" The Composer was smiling as usual, but there was a certain quality about it that prompted one of the Creators to speak up, but the host waved them down. A streak of malevolence now manifested, marring the outward serenity. "Post-act healing is out. From now on the Creations must tread carefully." Announcement complete, the Composer returned with a new vigour to shaping the next arena.
"Now see here," Creator Drae exclaimed, "That's all very well and good, but my creation is the only one missing a limb!"
The Composer did not deign to turn around at this outburst. The Creators noted, with some consternation, that it was not just the battlefield reshaping, but the ether around themselves also. They had no time to comment, as soon after their own location reformed into that of a plush, roomy head office. A large window on one wall granted a comforting view of the ether rushing by, which provided illumination of a pearly persuasion for whoever might sit at a large mahogany desk just below it.
The Composer sat poised at this desk. She had reshaped herself into the form of a statuesque (in height, at least) female human, wearing a peacock-blue evening gown embroidered with fractalesque feather designs in midnight blue. Beneath the bobbed, dark hair were whiteless, piercingly azure eyes. She stood and walked across the room to one of the two doors in the room. It was rather nondescript, and through the sanded glass the letters for MANAGER could be determined, in reverse order mirror image.
Her hand on the door, the Composer finally responded. "Now, Drae, it would hardly be sporting if I failed to give them a chance to recoup their losses, would it?" She turned to the others; Myst, Lan, and Yifan. "Now you know full well that I will not tolerate cheating in my casino." At this, the Creators' senses suddenly had full awareness of a hubbub, with a backing track of slot machines being played, emnating from behind the other door. "Not from any patrons. Not from any contestants. And certainly not from any of my staff." Inhuman eyes looking at each Creator in turn meaningfully, she added. "I catch you tipping the odds in anyone's favour, you're in for a multiverse of pain."
The door swung open, not to an office space, not to a back door to the casino itself, but to a room devoid of light (or, it seemed, existence). The Composer ushered them through one by one. "By the way... we do have standards of presentation at Mount Casino. I suggest you all dress for the occasion."
The door swung shut with the click of a pocket universe being sealed off. The Composer returned to her desk, checked her eight antiquated video camera screens were functioning with a sense of nostalgia, smoothed her hair down, and headed for the other door.
Spoiler
"If you've already established a battlefield, Composer, what's keeping you?" Yifan ventured this.
"Hmm? Oh... I suppose now that the stage has been... ah, cleared, to some extent, it is time to... raise the stakes, would you not think?" The Composer was smiling as usual, but there was a certain quality about it that prompted one of the Creators to speak up, but the host waved them down. A streak of malevolence now manifested, marring the outward serenity. "Post-act healing is out. From now on the Creations must tread carefully." Announcement complete, the Composer returned with a new vigour to shaping the next arena.
"Now see here," Creator Drae exclaimed, "That's all very well and good, but my creation is the only one missing a limb!"
The Composer did not deign to turn around at this outburst. The Creators noted, with some consternation, that it was not just the battlefield reshaping, but the ether around themselves also. They had no time to comment, as soon after their own location reformed into that of a plush, roomy head office. A large window on one wall granted a comforting view of the ether rushing by, which provided illumination of a pearly persuasion for whoever might sit at a large mahogany desk just below it.
The Composer sat poised at this desk. She had reshaped herself into the form of a statuesque (in height, at least) female human, wearing a peacock-blue evening gown embroidered with fractalesque feather designs in midnight blue. Beneath the bobbed, dark hair were whiteless, piercingly azure eyes. She stood and walked across the room to one of the two doors in the room. It was rather nondescript, and through the sanded glass the letters for MANAGER could be determined, in reverse order mirror image.
Her hand on the door, the Composer finally responded. "Now, Drae, it would hardly be sporting if I failed to give them a chance to recoup their losses, would it?" She turned to the others; Myst, Lan, and Yifan. "Now you know full well that I will not tolerate cheating in my casino." At this, the Creators' senses suddenly had full awareness of a hubbub, with a backing track of slot machines being played, emnating from behind the other door. "Not from any patrons. Not from any contestants. And certainly not from any of my staff." Inhuman eyes looking at each Creator in turn meaningfully, she added. "I catch you tipping the odds in anyone's favour, you're in for a multiverse of pain."
The door swung open, not to an office space, not to a back door to the casino itself, but to a room devoid of light (or, it seemed, existence). The Composer ushered them through one by one. "By the way... we do have standards of presentation at Mount Casino. I suggest you all dress for the occasion."
The door swung shut with the click of a pocket universe being sealed off. The Composer returned to her desk, checked her eight antiquated video camera screens were functioning with a sense of nostalgia, smoothed her hair down, and headed for the other door.
Spoiler
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