Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round One: The "Denny's"]
05-20-2011, 11:11 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by veerserif.
Tasers! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Gabe resolved to try newer forms for his hand. Pepper spray? Would that work? Maybe if he ate enough pepper -
The hearty slap on his back, courtesy of Quantos, broke him out of his thoughts. After he left the room, Gabe turned to Etiyr. "You alright? You didn't sound so good."
The typewriter's first instinct was to stay silent. Minimal communication - possession by the Convolution was a very risky prospect. On the other hand, Gabe's trust still needed careful cultivation. Etiyr made his choice.
"I'm fine. I will be fine. Time travellers, they build up static." ding!
<span style="font-family: courier new">"By the way... there's something on your back." The clack, clack, clack of the keys slowed down to an (appropriately) ominous crawl. </span>
Gabe tried to twist round. He patted the back of his jacket to no avail. "Where?"
"Between your shoulder blades. Quantos' slap, remember?"
He removed his jacket to inspect it. "I guess the slap did tingle a bit. That was odd..." He looked over the jacket, careful not to let the trinkets in the pockets fall out. "How big is it? What exactly does it look like?" Etiyr was silent.
The much-worn and much-loved jacket looked absolutely normal. Gabe ran his hands over the material; it felt smooth under his fingers, exactly the same as it always had been. No raised bump, no cold metal, not the slightest hint of purple or yellow. Or triangles. He merely raised an eyebrow before putting the jacket back on. Would Etiyr lie to him? Were sentient typewriters even capable of doing so? And just how much pepper would he really need to eat to get a good stream of pepper spray going?
He nudged New Greg with his toe. The guard groaned a little, said something suspiciously similar to "...nap" and stayed silent again. He probably hadn't come alone, though. That would be a problem - maybe he should regroup with Quantos and the Mini-Death Star? (Lucky, he chided himself.) "Quantos!" He walked into the room, typewriter under one arm.
Here we go. "Gabe! Good use of taser back there. Any other surprises you've got?" Inwardly, he hoped that he could convince Gabe to leave as soon as possible. Quantos smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Well, you'll be one of the first to know. Actually, I wanted to ask something. Etiyr here -" he motioned towards the typewriter in his arms " - said I had something on my back, but I didn't find anything on my jacket. Check for me, will you?"
The fist-sized badge was stuck squarely between his shoulderblades, flush with the surface of the jacket. It even rippled and moved with the fabric. If it wasn't the manifestation of a stroppy homicidal sentient ball of ideas, Quantos might have admired its hiding ability.
"Nope, I don't see anything. Trick of the light, maybe." He coughed. "Do you want to check in on Lucky?" He handed the radio to Gabe, and sidled out of the room as soon as he could.
* * * *
"Admiral? It's trying to talk to us."
It was a bad day to be High Admiral Itzel. "Malfallow, get those men on the streets now. Heng, have we got anything to screen incoming transmissions? And try and boost the psi-defences while you're at it."
Malfallow nodded, and Heng saluted in reply.
"Sir, you will cease transmissions immediately. We have reason to suspect you have been contaminated by the Convolution. Goodbye."
Chief Medical Officer Ameretat looked sombre. "Admiral, we've received some reports of a few scuffles in the lower decks. Hopefully it won't spread to the rest of the ship provided the education reforms hold, but we'll do what we can for now."
So it begins, though Itzel glumly.
* * * *
Gabe heard the sound of Lucky retreating the room as quickly as possible. In frustration, he threw the walkie-talkie at the floor as hard as he could. It didn't even have the courtesy to break.
"There is NOTHING on my back, dammit!" Leaving the walkie-talkie on the floor, Gabe headed back out to the maze of corridors where he met the wolf-man. Perhaps the other contestants would help.
Tasers! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Gabe resolved to try newer forms for his hand. Pepper spray? Would that work? Maybe if he ate enough pepper -
The hearty slap on his back, courtesy of Quantos, broke him out of his thoughts. After he left the room, Gabe turned to Etiyr. "You alright? You didn't sound so good."
The typewriter's first instinct was to stay silent. Minimal communication - possession by the Convolution was a very risky prospect. On the other hand, Gabe's trust still needed careful cultivation. Etiyr made his choice.
"I'm fine. I will be fine. Time travellers, they build up static." ding!
<span style="font-family: courier new">"By the way... there's something on your back." The clack, clack, clack of the keys slowed down to an (appropriately) ominous crawl. </span>
Gabe tried to twist round. He patted the back of his jacket to no avail. "Where?"
"Between your shoulder blades. Quantos' slap, remember?"
He removed his jacket to inspect it. "I guess the slap did tingle a bit. That was odd..." He looked over the jacket, careful not to let the trinkets in the pockets fall out. "How big is it? What exactly does it look like?" Etiyr was silent.
The much-worn and much-loved jacket looked absolutely normal. Gabe ran his hands over the material; it felt smooth under his fingers, exactly the same as it always had been. No raised bump, no cold metal, not the slightest hint of purple or yellow. Or triangles. He merely raised an eyebrow before putting the jacket back on. Would Etiyr lie to him? Were sentient typewriters even capable of doing so? And just how much pepper would he really need to eat to get a good stream of pepper spray going?
He nudged New Greg with his toe. The guard groaned a little, said something suspiciously similar to "...nap" and stayed silent again. He probably hadn't come alone, though. That would be a problem - maybe he should regroup with Quantos and the Mini-Death Star? (Lucky, he chided himself.) "Quantos!" He walked into the room, typewriter under one arm.
Here we go. "Gabe! Good use of taser back there. Any other surprises you've got?" Inwardly, he hoped that he could convince Gabe to leave as soon as possible. Quantos smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Well, you'll be one of the first to know. Actually, I wanted to ask something. Etiyr here -" he motioned towards the typewriter in his arms " - said I had something on my back, but I didn't find anything on my jacket. Check for me, will you?"
The fist-sized badge was stuck squarely between his shoulderblades, flush with the surface of the jacket. It even rippled and moved with the fabric. If it wasn't the manifestation of a stroppy homicidal sentient ball of ideas, Quantos might have admired its hiding ability.
"Nope, I don't see anything. Trick of the light, maybe." He coughed. "Do you want to check in on Lucky?" He handed the radio to Gabe, and sidled out of the room as soon as he could.
* * * *
"Admiral? It's trying to talk to us."
It was a bad day to be High Admiral Itzel. "Malfallow, get those men on the streets now. Heng, have we got anything to screen incoming transmissions? And try and boost the psi-defences while you're at it."
Malfallow nodded, and Heng saluted in reply.
"Sir, you will cease transmissions immediately. We have reason to suspect you have been contaminated by the Convolution. Goodbye."
Chief Medical Officer Ameretat looked sombre. "Admiral, we've received some reports of a few scuffles in the lower decks. Hopefully it won't spread to the rest of the ship provided the education reforms hold, but we'll do what we can for now."
So it begins, though Itzel glumly.
* * * *
Gabe heard the sound of Lucky retreating the room as quickly as possible. In frustration, he threw the walkie-talkie at the floor as hard as he could. It didn't even have the courtesy to break.
"There is NOTHING on my back, dammit!" Leaving the walkie-talkie on the floor, Gabe headed back out to the maze of corridors where he met the wolf-man. Perhaps the other contestants would help.