Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round Two: The Kestalvian Rainforest]
09-08-2011, 11:58 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pick Yer Poison.
The majority of the journey to the camp was spent in silence. Neither Sydra nor Ix could think of anything to breach the uncomfortable quiet that smothered the group like a thick blanket. Sydra had already gone over every reading to take that he could think of multiple times, aside from the ones that he knew would only occur to him when he reviewed his equipment, and he was completely stuck for ideas by now. Ix was actually in slightly better shape, as he had had nothing of interest to distract him at first, and had gone straight to admiring the scenery, which he was happily occupied by.
AMP, on the other hand, was quite busy fuming. He was not at all happy about the way protocols had been acting, and it had completely ruined his good mood. The worst part was that protocols had become a bit apologetic and had been attempting to apologize, creeping up to AMP at sporadic intervals. AMP did not want to hear an apology, as that ran the risk of forcing him to admit he had misjudged protocols, and he had taken to shooting it death glares whenever it tried to make amends, causing it to back away hurriedly, only to try again a few minutes later. Finally, database, possessing a more forgiving spirit than AMP, took pity on protocols. She slipped over to him and bent down, whispering in his ear and sending shivers down his spine, that might he perhaps give protocols a chance to possibly apologize and maybe make amends, hypothetically? AMP was in no way equipped to refuse her, and the next time protocols came up to apologize AMP gave it a welcoming look and invited it to come make amends.
Protocols iterated how sorry it was to offend AMP and that fine little filly of a database over there, which made database blush. AMP very nearly growled at this and protocols hastened to insist that it didn't mean nothing by that except a general compliment, the kind that was customary to give ladyfolk according to its records. When AMP showed no signs of forgiving it protocols decided to simply continue, stating that it had simply been trying to look out for the best interests of the group and whatnot and tried to do so in the only way it knew how and it was terribly ashamed of how it had come off now that it had had time to reflect upon it and that it was ever so truly sorry and why the bloody hell wasn't AMP responding after it had gone to all the trouble of working out this well designed apology and argh it just couldn't take this anymore, it felt like a church mouse at a rattlesnake family renunion. Protocols was about to shuffle off in shame when AMP laid a hand on its shoulder and let it know that its apology was accepted and that he would be happy to help it learn the ropes of how to talk to people. Database piped up then, saying that it might be better if she taught protocols the ropes since she had all the information and well let's face it AMP hadn't been the best at interacting with others in the past like for example that guard whose hand he'd chopped off. AMP gave her a blank stare, as if to say he still didn't know what the big deal about that had been, but he pushed protocols towards her anyway and went back to being attentive to where the flying metal circus act was going.
The flying metal circus act, it turned out, had arrived in the camp, and was in the process of shredding someone's tent to pieces while Ix and Sydra watched on in horrified astonishment. AMP backed up quickly. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." Database giggled and subtly reminded him of her most recent point about interactions. AMP told her to shush.
Ix continued his horrified staring, but Sydra pulled off a miraculous recovery, less miraculous if you knew whose tent hadn't been shredded. "It's...not a problem. Really. If you'll just follow me to the testing room--I mean, to the mess hall, we can get this started." He began to walk further into the camp, then paused. "Oh, and, uh, please be careful. We're not really equipped to replace a lot of this."
---
Cailean swore as he and Gaurinn stumbled through the grove, cursing and swearing. Well, Cailean was doing most of the cursing and swearing; Gaurinn was just making irritated insect noises. Cailean had the biggest hangover he had ever experienced, and given his drinking habits in the past, that was saying something. Every glimpse of the sun through the overhanging canopy made him hate it just a little bit more. His arm had grown tired from being held in position to block it, and since he only caught sporadic glimpses of it he felt wasteful for shielding his eyes constantly, especially when branches swatted his face because he was unable to block them with his hand. Not for the first time, he felt irritation for having lost the use of his left arm.
The pair emerged into a clearing filled with flowers, and Cailean gave up on shielding his eyes and settled for squinting at the odd flowers. He didn't think of calling them paradox flowers, having never heard of paradox grass, and in fact they weren't even tangentially related to paradox grass. Cailean and Gaurinn wandered out into the field, eyeing the silent flowers with unease, until they fell into a large hole they had somehow failed to notice.
Cailean picked himself up and then stared in confusion at what appeared to be him with a more feminine figure and breasts. Caiolinn stared back at him in equal confusion, and although they didn't realize it, the expressions on their faces mimicked each other to an impossible degree. "Who are you?" they each demanded of each other at the same time. "What do you mean who am I? I asked first!"
At their sides, Gaurinn and Gaurinne were regarding each other in an equally investigative light. Gaurinne was similar to Guarinn, but colored pink, and had girly, distinctly non-centipede-like eyelashes over her eyes. Her antennae were also more flowery than Gaurinn's. She blinked demurely, and Gaurinn felt something stir within him. "I--" he began, then hesitated. "Who are you?"
"I think you're me," she half responded, half corrected. She looked around, but Gaurinn couldn't take his eyes off of her to see what she was looking at. "There's no floor here for some reason. Or walls. Or a ceiling. It's just black. I bet you didn't know that, Caiolinn. Still having your hangover?"
Caiolinn rolled her eyes. "I get it, I shouldn't have taken that stupid margarita or whatever the fuck it was. I'm sorry for seeming like I was going to kill you, okay?"
"And then she shocked you, right?" Cailean piped up, suddenly realizing what was happening.
Caiolinn and Gaurinne looked up in surprise. Caiolinn nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"
"I think," Cailean mused, mulling over the words as they left his mouth, "that we are, apart from a few differences, the same people and centipedes, in similarly same, and different, battles to the death."
That seemed to be some kind of code phrase, as each pair suddenly found themselves sucked up onto the surface again, to all appearances in the same place that they had been when they had fallen down. Impossible to discern at first glance, however, was the fact that they had just changed places in their battles. Caiolinn and Gaurinne picked themselves up from the flowery field, and, eager to get away, began to jog off in an arbitrary direction, away from the field of Muck Flowers. Or, as they were known to those not very into botany, "Don't touch these or your shit will be fucked up so much you will think someone had a fetish" Flowers.
---
Gabe was more or less following the chimpanzee marching band, as Etiyr had ordered him to. He sniffled pathetically for a while until Etiyr told him to stop. Well, less "told" than "ordered to shut the fuck up." Etiyr had a plan, he knew, which comforted him increasingly the more he thought about it. His stride gradually lost its cowering step and became quicker and more powerful, which was a good thing because the marching band was clearly, and for no reason he could discern, doing its best to lose him. It weaved in and out of trees, tramped up and down hills, and even went to the effort of employing all sorts of dark monkey voodoo magic to make it impossible for Gabe to determine from what direction the music was coming from when he finally lost sight of the band. Etiyr made it clear that he was not pleased.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, IMCOMPETRON. NO, YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK THAT, YOU'VE REACHED A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF FUCK. YOU ARE BLOWING MY MIND WITH ALL OF THE FUCKING UP YOU ARE DOING. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT HAVING SEX WITH THIS PLAN, BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING IT UP. IT'S GOING TO HAVE PLAN BABIES BECAUSE OF YOU. AND THEY WILL ALL SHARE YOUR GENES SO THEY WILL ALL BE UGLY AND STUPID, YOU STUPID UGLY HOT PIECE OF ASS."
Gabe blinked. "What? Did you just call me a...?"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU MORONIC PIECE OFCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCSHIT I DID DIDN'T I THIS IS NOT GOOD." Etiyr hated to admit it, but for a moment there he had felt...legitimate feelings for Gabe. He considered Gabe a fucking moron, although not quite so much of one as he said out loud, but he certainly didn't have any feelings for him. Or...did he? He honestly wasn't sure anymore. Were these feelings really the Convolution's fault, or...were they...?
"CCCCCGABE?" Etiyr opened, trying to breach the subject calmly, determined to keep his professional demeanor.
Gabe replied immediately. "Y-Yes, Etiyr-san[color=#F2810]? What is it?"[/color]
"I...I THINK I..." Etiyr found himself hesitating. His feelings for Gabe that he didn't have that he totally had NO HE FUCKING DIDN'T yes he did NO SHUT THE FUCK UP. Etiyr's resolve hardened, as did his heart. "I THINK YOU'RE A FUCKING MORON, YOU FUCKING MORON. YOU LOST THE FUCKING BAND AND YOU RUINED THE FUCKING PLAN. AND I DON'T SEE YOU COMING UP WITH ANOTHER FUCKING PLAN, DO I, YOU FUCKING MORON. NO I DON'T, BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING MORON, AND FUCKING MORONS WOULD MAKE FUCKING MORONIC PLANS, SO YOU BETTER NOT MAKE A FUCKING PLAN YOU FUCKING MORON. I WILL MAKE ALL THE FUCKING PLANS AND I WILL ALWAYS BE THE ONE MAKING THE FUCKING PLANS, AND YOU WILL JUST FUCKING EXECUTE THE FUCKING PLANS AND THEN THINGS WILL FUCKING TURN OUT RIGHT, UNLIKE THEY'RE TURNING OUT NOW YOU FUCKING MORON."
Gabe's sides heaved and he began to sob again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated like a mantra. He stumbled off in a random direction in an attempt to find the band again, eyes blind with tears.
To his surprise, he heard a higher pitched version of Cailean shouting at someone. "No, I don't want to ficky-ficky with you, you sick chimp! Who th' hell teaches you animals these things!?" Gabe looked up, drying his eyes, and saw a chimp dangling from a tree, grinning like a maniac while inserting the index finger of his left hand into a ring formed by his right, over and over. Then he noticed Cailean and Gaurinn below, Cailean waving his hand at the chimpanzee angrily. But...wait. He rubbed his eyes again, then looked once more to confirm that Cailean's chest was a good deal less flat now. And, as a side note, he saw that Gaurinn was a lot pinker.
"Hey, C-Cailean," he called out, his voice quaking from his recent crying fit. "Cailean. Gaurinn. What the hell happened to you guys?"
"It's Caiolinn!" Caiolinn shouted back.
"And it's Gaurinne!" Gaurinne added.
Gabe blinked several times in confusion. "That's...what I said."
"No it's not," Caiolinn asserted. "You spelled my name wrong. I could tell."
"Okay, uh, well then, Cailean." Caiolinn opened her mouth to object. "I'm not done yet, deal with it!" Caiolinn closed her mouth and furrowed her brow. "When the hell did you turn into a girl?"
Caiolinn raised an eyebrow. "What? You're the one who turned into a guy, Gabrielle. I haven't changed a bit." A loud clacking interrupted her. "Is that Etiyra I hear?"
Etiyr was quick to reply. "I'M MOTHERFUCKING ETIYR YOU BITCH, AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT." Gabe pulled the page off the typewriter and passed it to Caiolinn.
"You know," he whispered to Etiyr, an idea sparking in his head, "we could easily..."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING MORON. DIDN'T I SAY I MAKE THE FUCKING PLANS AROUND HERE. BECAUSE I THINK I DID. AND I AM CURRENTLY MAKING ANOTHER FUCKING PLAN. BUT NOT A PLAN FOR FUCKING. NOBODY IS GETTING FUCKED IN THIS PLAN EXCEPT THE CONVOLUTION. AND IT IS NOT GETTING FUCKED IN THE CONVENTIONAL WAY, THIS IS HARDCORE SADIST FUCKING." Gabe raised an eyebrow. "<span style="font-family: Courier New">SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU, I'M MAKING A PLAN."</span>
The majority of the journey to the camp was spent in silence. Neither Sydra nor Ix could think of anything to breach the uncomfortable quiet that smothered the group like a thick blanket. Sydra had already gone over every reading to take that he could think of multiple times, aside from the ones that he knew would only occur to him when he reviewed his equipment, and he was completely stuck for ideas by now. Ix was actually in slightly better shape, as he had had nothing of interest to distract him at first, and had gone straight to admiring the scenery, which he was happily occupied by.
AMP, on the other hand, was quite busy fuming. He was not at all happy about the way protocols had been acting, and it had completely ruined his good mood. The worst part was that protocols had become a bit apologetic and had been attempting to apologize, creeping up to AMP at sporadic intervals. AMP did not want to hear an apology, as that ran the risk of forcing him to admit he had misjudged protocols, and he had taken to shooting it death glares whenever it tried to make amends, causing it to back away hurriedly, only to try again a few minutes later. Finally, database, possessing a more forgiving spirit than AMP, took pity on protocols. She slipped over to him and bent down, whispering in his ear and sending shivers down his spine, that might he perhaps give protocols a chance to possibly apologize and maybe make amends, hypothetically? AMP was in no way equipped to refuse her, and the next time protocols came up to apologize AMP gave it a welcoming look and invited it to come make amends.
Protocols iterated how sorry it was to offend AMP and that fine little filly of a database over there, which made database blush. AMP very nearly growled at this and protocols hastened to insist that it didn't mean nothing by that except a general compliment, the kind that was customary to give ladyfolk according to its records. When AMP showed no signs of forgiving it protocols decided to simply continue, stating that it had simply been trying to look out for the best interests of the group and whatnot and tried to do so in the only way it knew how and it was terribly ashamed of how it had come off now that it had had time to reflect upon it and that it was ever so truly sorry and why the bloody hell wasn't AMP responding after it had gone to all the trouble of working out this well designed apology and argh it just couldn't take this anymore, it felt like a church mouse at a rattlesnake family renunion. Protocols was about to shuffle off in shame when AMP laid a hand on its shoulder and let it know that its apology was accepted and that he would be happy to help it learn the ropes of how to talk to people. Database piped up then, saying that it might be better if she taught protocols the ropes since she had all the information and well let's face it AMP hadn't been the best at interacting with others in the past like for example that guard whose hand he'd chopped off. AMP gave her a blank stare, as if to say he still didn't know what the big deal about that had been, but he pushed protocols towards her anyway and went back to being attentive to where the flying metal circus act was going.
The flying metal circus act, it turned out, had arrived in the camp, and was in the process of shredding someone's tent to pieces while Ix and Sydra watched on in horrified astonishment. AMP backed up quickly. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." Database giggled and subtly reminded him of her most recent point about interactions. AMP told her to shush.
Ix continued his horrified staring, but Sydra pulled off a miraculous recovery, less miraculous if you knew whose tent hadn't been shredded. "It's...not a problem. Really. If you'll just follow me to the testing room--I mean, to the mess hall, we can get this started." He began to walk further into the camp, then paused. "Oh, and, uh, please be careful. We're not really equipped to replace a lot of this."
---
Cailean swore as he and Gaurinn stumbled through the grove, cursing and swearing. Well, Cailean was doing most of the cursing and swearing; Gaurinn was just making irritated insect noises. Cailean had the biggest hangover he had ever experienced, and given his drinking habits in the past, that was saying something. Every glimpse of the sun through the overhanging canopy made him hate it just a little bit more. His arm had grown tired from being held in position to block it, and since he only caught sporadic glimpses of it he felt wasteful for shielding his eyes constantly, especially when branches swatted his face because he was unable to block them with his hand. Not for the first time, he felt irritation for having lost the use of his left arm.
The pair emerged into a clearing filled with flowers, and Cailean gave up on shielding his eyes and settled for squinting at the odd flowers. He didn't think of calling them paradox flowers, having never heard of paradox grass, and in fact they weren't even tangentially related to paradox grass. Cailean and Gaurinn wandered out into the field, eyeing the silent flowers with unease, until they fell into a large hole they had somehow failed to notice.
Cailean picked himself up and then stared in confusion at what appeared to be him with a more feminine figure and breasts. Caiolinn stared back at him in equal confusion, and although they didn't realize it, the expressions on their faces mimicked each other to an impossible degree. "Who are you?" they each demanded of each other at the same time. "What do you mean who am I? I asked first!"
At their sides, Gaurinn and Gaurinne were regarding each other in an equally investigative light. Gaurinne was similar to Guarinn, but colored pink, and had girly, distinctly non-centipede-like eyelashes over her eyes. Her antennae were also more flowery than Gaurinn's. She blinked demurely, and Gaurinn felt something stir within him. "I--" he began, then hesitated. "Who are you?"
"I think you're me," she half responded, half corrected. She looked around, but Gaurinn couldn't take his eyes off of her to see what she was looking at. "There's no floor here for some reason. Or walls. Or a ceiling. It's just black. I bet you didn't know that, Caiolinn. Still having your hangover?"
Caiolinn rolled her eyes. "I get it, I shouldn't have taken that stupid margarita or whatever the fuck it was. I'm sorry for seeming like I was going to kill you, okay?"
"And then she shocked you, right?" Cailean piped up, suddenly realizing what was happening.
Caiolinn and Gaurinne looked up in surprise. Caiolinn nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"
"I think," Cailean mused, mulling over the words as they left his mouth, "that we are, apart from a few differences, the same people and centipedes, in similarly same, and different, battles to the death."
That seemed to be some kind of code phrase, as each pair suddenly found themselves sucked up onto the surface again, to all appearances in the same place that they had been when they had fallen down. Impossible to discern at first glance, however, was the fact that they had just changed places in their battles. Caiolinn and Gaurinne picked themselves up from the flowery field, and, eager to get away, began to jog off in an arbitrary direction, away from the field of Muck Flowers. Or, as they were known to those not very into botany, "Don't touch these or your shit will be fucked up so much you will think someone had a fetish" Flowers.
---
Gabe was more or less following the chimpanzee marching band, as Etiyr had ordered him to. He sniffled pathetically for a while until Etiyr told him to stop. Well, less "told" than "ordered to shut the fuck up." Etiyr had a plan, he knew, which comforted him increasingly the more he thought about it. His stride gradually lost its cowering step and became quicker and more powerful, which was a good thing because the marching band was clearly, and for no reason he could discern, doing its best to lose him. It weaved in and out of trees, tramped up and down hills, and even went to the effort of employing all sorts of dark monkey voodoo magic to make it impossible for Gabe to determine from what direction the music was coming from when he finally lost sight of the band. Etiyr made it clear that he was not pleased.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, IMCOMPETRON. NO, YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK THAT, YOU'VE REACHED A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF FUCK. YOU ARE BLOWING MY MIND WITH ALL OF THE FUCKING UP YOU ARE DOING. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT HAVING SEX WITH THIS PLAN, BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING IT UP. IT'S GOING TO HAVE PLAN BABIES BECAUSE OF YOU. AND THEY WILL ALL SHARE YOUR GENES SO THEY WILL ALL BE UGLY AND STUPID, YOU STUPID UGLY HOT PIECE OF ASS."
Gabe blinked. "What? Did you just call me a...?"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU MORONIC PIECE OFCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCSHIT I DID DIDN'T I THIS IS NOT GOOD." Etiyr hated to admit it, but for a moment there he had felt...legitimate feelings for Gabe. He considered Gabe a fucking moron, although not quite so much of one as he said out loud, but he certainly didn't have any feelings for him. Or...did he? He honestly wasn't sure anymore. Were these feelings really the Convolution's fault, or...were they...?
"CCCCCGABE?" Etiyr opened, trying to breach the subject calmly, determined to keep his professional demeanor.
Gabe replied immediately. "Y-Yes, Etiyr-san[color=#F2810]? What is it?"[/color]
"I...I THINK I..." Etiyr found himself hesitating. His feelings for Gabe that he didn't have that he totally had NO HE FUCKING DIDN'T yes he did NO SHUT THE FUCK UP. Etiyr's resolve hardened, as did his heart. "I THINK YOU'RE A FUCKING MORON, YOU FUCKING MORON. YOU LOST THE FUCKING BAND AND YOU RUINED THE FUCKING PLAN. AND I DON'T SEE YOU COMING UP WITH ANOTHER FUCKING PLAN, DO I, YOU FUCKING MORON. NO I DON'T, BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING MORON, AND FUCKING MORONS WOULD MAKE FUCKING MORONIC PLANS, SO YOU BETTER NOT MAKE A FUCKING PLAN YOU FUCKING MORON. I WILL MAKE ALL THE FUCKING PLANS AND I WILL ALWAYS BE THE ONE MAKING THE FUCKING PLANS, AND YOU WILL JUST FUCKING EXECUTE THE FUCKING PLANS AND THEN THINGS WILL FUCKING TURN OUT RIGHT, UNLIKE THEY'RE TURNING OUT NOW YOU FUCKING MORON."
Gabe's sides heaved and he began to sob again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated like a mantra. He stumbled off in a random direction in an attempt to find the band again, eyes blind with tears.
To his surprise, he heard a higher pitched version of Cailean shouting at someone. "No, I don't want to ficky-ficky with you, you sick chimp! Who th' hell teaches you animals these things!?" Gabe looked up, drying his eyes, and saw a chimp dangling from a tree, grinning like a maniac while inserting the index finger of his left hand into a ring formed by his right, over and over. Then he noticed Cailean and Gaurinn below, Cailean waving his hand at the chimpanzee angrily. But...wait. He rubbed his eyes again, then looked once more to confirm that Cailean's chest was a good deal less flat now. And, as a side note, he saw that Gaurinn was a lot pinker.
"Hey, C-Cailean," he called out, his voice quaking from his recent crying fit. "Cailean. Gaurinn. What the hell happened to you guys?"
"It's Caiolinn!" Caiolinn shouted back.
"And it's Gaurinne!" Gaurinne added.
Gabe blinked several times in confusion. "That's...what I said."
"No it's not," Caiolinn asserted. "You spelled my name wrong. I could tell."
"Okay, uh, well then, Cailean." Caiolinn opened her mouth to object. "I'm not done yet, deal with it!" Caiolinn closed her mouth and furrowed her brow. "When the hell did you turn into a girl?"
Caiolinn raised an eyebrow. "What? You're the one who turned into a guy, Gabrielle. I haven't changed a bit." A loud clacking interrupted her. "Is that Etiyra I hear?"
Etiyr was quick to reply. "I'M MOTHERFUCKING ETIYR YOU BITCH, AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT." Gabe pulled the page off the typewriter and passed it to Caiolinn.
"You know," he whispered to Etiyr, an idea sparking in his head, "we could easily..."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING MORON. DIDN'T I SAY I MAKE THE FUCKING PLANS AROUND HERE. BECAUSE I THINK I DID. AND I AM CURRENTLY MAKING ANOTHER FUCKING PLAN. BUT NOT A PLAN FOR FUCKING. NOBODY IS GETTING FUCKED IN THIS PLAN EXCEPT THE CONVOLUTION. AND IT IS NOT GETTING FUCKED IN THE CONVENTIONAL WAY, THIS IS HARDCORE SADIST FUCKING." Gabe raised an eyebrow. "<span style="font-family: Courier New">SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU, I'M MAKING A PLAN."</span>
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