The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 6: Tidal Cove]

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Thane smiled as he appeared in the museum. The rest of the group looked as though they had been sick to their stomachs at The Controller's display of sadistic glee, but not him. He had seized upon one thing which made him confident. That The Controller was weak, weak enough to let his emotions show. A sense of bloodthirsty joy was probably not the most exploitable weakness that he could have hoped for, but it was a weakness nonetheless. He had an inclination that he might need any potential weaknesses he could find should The Controller wish to reclaim his worthless Map of Rome. Thane admitted that perhaps he had made a mistake in the previous round, he perhaps hadn't thought through what the consequences of stealing an item that had been locked away specifically so that he could not steal it. But this rumination and regret was pointless. The fact was he had stolen this worthless scrap of paper and now he was stuck with it, and all the consequences that came with it, including The Controller's potential ire. If the worst came to the worst he would attempt to ally with his teammates. He could not imagine that they felt anything but the loathing with regard to their sadistic captor. But that was a series of thoughts that would best be dealt with as and when they were applicable. For the moment he needed to get his bearings and figure out what, if anything, to do with this piece of trash Map of Rome.

Thane found himself standing in a corridor between a selection of particuarly gory exhibits. In stark contrast to the detailed exhibits the corridors that wound throughout the museum were almost featureless; just the open white floor and the distant white ceiling. There were no seats, or panels giving information upon the exhibits. The corridors connecting the place together almost seemed as though they had been an afterthought. Thane sat for a moment, cross legged on the oddly textureless floor. He spread the Map of Rome out in front of him and stared at it. As much as he called it worthless scrap there was power here for some reason, even if he did not have any idea how to access it. Lacking any clear idea of what to do he decided to try and brute force the solution; trying every likely action he could think of until something finally unlocked its potential. First he placed his finger against the map and concentrated, willing himself to appear in the Castra Praetoria. This method of use seemed the most likely, as it would explain why The Controller had locked it away. Can't have any of his contestants escaping from the contest. He opened his eyes again to find himself in exactly the same spot he was when he closed them. He rethought his approach, perhaps this map was some kind of puzzle, in which powerful magic had been hidden if one could put their mind to discerning just what that was. Thane critically regarded the map, attempting to peice together the names of locations into the words of incantations. He was interrupted by something clattering to the floor next to him. He shot to his feet, his hand going for his soulblade, as he spun around. There was nobody there, and odder still his soulblade was lying unsheathed on the floor next to him. A quick mental check informed him that although his opponents were on the move, none had ventured in his direction so far. A sudden thought gripped him and he glanced across the exhibits surrounding him. In each of them were standing imposing and bloody figures in the midst of their executions, or torturings. But none of them seemed to have moved. He carefully picked up his soulblade and sheathed it again, and then rolled up the Map of Rome. He needed somewhere more secluded where he could study it without interruption, though such a place existing in The Controller's own private museum seemed pretty slim. For the moment he would be satisfied with a method of carrying the map that left his hands free.

In the exhibit in front of him, a frozen tableau of a dingy and lightless basement where a figure stood chained to the wall, as another sliced and hacked at the first's surprisingly realistic flesh with an array of rusty and stomach churning implements. The thing that caught his attention was a brown shoulder bag that the torturer was wearing. It would do nicely, once it was emptied of all it's inefficient torture implements. Thane walked up to the exhibit and climbed up onto the podium. He stepped behind the lifeless torturer attempting to disconnect him and his bag. Thane struggled for a moment before a heavy metal object thudded into the side of his head and then dropped to the floor with a crash. He stepped back again, surveying the area for otherwise unseen assailants, but could not find any. Frustrated by these unexplainable events he returned his attention to parting the torturer and his bag, only to find the torturer turning around, bloodstained knife in hand and a wide grin across his face.