Re: Battle Royale! Round 6: Wainwright Omega 57
02-14-2010, 03:55 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.
Mike tumbled down a long passageway, his vectors caccooning him. He caught every edge and object on the way down, causing him to roll endlessly. In a black tunnel, nothing was to be seen, just a black void that spun round and round.
Eventually, Mike decelerated to a quick stop by collidong with the floor. He rolled out of the way as Zeke stomped down where he lay moments before with fluid grace.
Zeke's eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light. He swung around, bringing his fists up and a fighting stance. Mike was floating, slowly, through a doorway. zeke noticed his eyes were shooting from one place to another. A sign he was unable to see.
The vectors dragged Mike through several rooms. Zeke followed, using the strong muscles in his legs to keep pace with the inhuman limbs. Mike's mind worked like a childs, eventually he would run out of places to flee.
Zeke stopped short of a door. A brief thought raced through his subconscious. Since when did Mike ever run away without serious injury. A trap then. He was probably awaiting Zeke to pass through the door.
Zeke thought two steps ahead. Ventalation shafts werent original, but they were effective in the dark.
'Waiting. How I loath waiting. Still, a double bluff is effective. Triple bluff, not so much, and only Itzal could have managed a quadrupal bluff.'
Mike was backed behind a large piller in the center of the corridor. He could vaguely make out the surroundings. Three rooms. The one he came out of had no door, the other two had a normal door and an automatic metal door, both closed. Mike gripped the handgun tightly, sweat beading down his forehead. The gun had belonged to the boy's mother. Inheritance, then. Unexpected that he would last this long. Harder ordeals to come.
"Zeke, sorry!." Mike yelled into the empty expanse of metal walls, "The illusionist you started off to hate is dead, so the deal was off. But you knew that already!"
A voice somewhere near Mike's ear said, "I wouldn't let something so trivial as hate to guide my actions.
The side panel to the duct slammed against a vector as Zeke's boot made an exit for him. He didn't expect the gun to be pointing in his face when he came out.
"Really, now Zeke", Mike said with a grin, "That trick is very old. And I don't ambush people, that's your job"
Foolish.
"That's right"
Zeke brought his fist right into the underneath of mike's arm, then knocked it aside with his elbow as the shot rang out from the gun. Ignoring the vectors, Zeke turned Mike around with a blow to the shoulder, and and elbowed him in the face. The blow knocked Mike back far enough in such a small amount of time that the vectors couldn't reach him.
Gravity, or in these conditions, the lack of said gravity, was an environment Zeke was taking too quite well
Mike tumbled down a long passageway, his vectors caccooning him. He caught every edge and object on the way down, causing him to roll endlessly. In a black tunnel, nothing was to be seen, just a black void that spun round and round.
Eventually, Mike decelerated to a quick stop by collidong with the floor. He rolled out of the way as Zeke stomped down where he lay moments before with fluid grace.
Zeke's eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light. He swung around, bringing his fists up and a fighting stance. Mike was floating, slowly, through a doorway. zeke noticed his eyes were shooting from one place to another. A sign he was unable to see.
The vectors dragged Mike through several rooms. Zeke followed, using the strong muscles in his legs to keep pace with the inhuman limbs. Mike's mind worked like a childs, eventually he would run out of places to flee.
Zeke stopped short of a door. A brief thought raced through his subconscious. Since when did Mike ever run away without serious injury. A trap then. He was probably awaiting Zeke to pass through the door.
Zeke thought two steps ahead. Ventalation shafts werent original, but they were effective in the dark.
'Waiting. How I loath waiting. Still, a double bluff is effective. Triple bluff, not so much, and only Itzal could have managed a quadrupal bluff.'
Mike was backed behind a large piller in the center of the corridor. He could vaguely make out the surroundings. Three rooms. The one he came out of had no door, the other two had a normal door and an automatic metal door, both closed. Mike gripped the handgun tightly, sweat beading down his forehead. The gun had belonged to the boy's mother. Inheritance, then. Unexpected that he would last this long. Harder ordeals to come.
"Zeke, sorry!." Mike yelled into the empty expanse of metal walls, "The illusionist you started off to hate is dead, so the deal was off. But you knew that already!"
A voice somewhere near Mike's ear said, "I wouldn't let something so trivial as hate to guide my actions.
The side panel to the duct slammed against a vector as Zeke's boot made an exit for him. He didn't expect the gun to be pointing in his face when he came out.
"Really, now Zeke", Mike said with a grin, "That trick is very old. And I don't ambush people, that's your job"
Foolish.
"That's right"
Zeke brought his fist right into the underneath of mike's arm, then knocked it aside with his elbow as the shot rang out from the gun. Ignoring the vectors, Zeke turned Mike around with a blow to the shoulder, and and elbowed him in the face. The blow knocked Mike back far enough in such a small amount of time that the vectors couldn't reach him.
Gravity, or in these conditions, the lack of said gravity, was an environment Zeke was taking too quite well