Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 2: The Museum]
09-06-2010, 03:23 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
The Countess didn't move, but Holly knew the amalgam could hold itself unnaturally still. Even so, she expected that implacable monstrosity to grin, or snarl, or acknowledge her in some way-
Actually, screw whatever expectations she had of the Countess, Holly berated herself savagely. She kind of wished the ticking nutcase was simply getting its kicks from terrifying the others... oh, who was she kidding. The Countess scared her as well, and to refuse to acknowledge such a glaring fact was just asking for trouble. The elf considered, for a brief moment, reaching out and borrowing some of the Countess' icy confidence to bolster her own, but recalled she'd already done that and left the creature none-too-happy.
The Countess still hadn't moved. Holly, frowning a little, cautiously unshouldered her pack and armed herself with a rock she'd thought to toss in there. A lack of response prompted her to let it crumble to dust in her grip, its coveted solidarity rushing up her arm and settling the uneasy feeling in the elf’s chest.
Confidence bolstered, Holly refocused and re-coalesced those toxic little droplets. Holly had circumnavigated the Countess as best she could, paused there behind a display and... ok, at some point the motionless Countess had stopped freaking the elf out, and just gotten weird.
Fear giving way to curiosity, Holly approached, before realising - it was too quiet. The ticking, whirring, clicking and purring that followed the clockwork beast around should’ve alerted Holly long before either madwoman had spotted the other. Almost laughing with relief was it not for the implication of this discovery slapping her about, the elf skipped up to what was now quite evidently a statue.
A low rope encircled the Countess, which Holly stayed behind out of consideration to the various other exhibits she’d ‘interacted’ with in the museum. A plaque, one of several set on the floor, was scuffed underfoot as she took the opportunity to get a decent look at her foe. It wasn’t an exact replica of her - the legs had bulky pistons clamped to their sides, and the whole form was overall sturdier. The body’s shape was dictated by the cogs that made it, and not the other way around. The jaws were even more savage than those Holly was used to, the way they were too big for the face reminding the elf of some kind of steel trap.
Lifting her foot to examine the plaque underfoot yielded more interesting information. Although some of the explanation on nanite infection and the implications of concurrent organ failure went over Holly’s head (while what did sink in merely sounded excruciating) the history behind this exhibit, the elf had to concede, could be potentially useful.
So she persevered, scribbling notes in the margins of a book as needed, until she heard the strains of an approaching horde of clocks. Holly cursed, and jammed the book into her bag and prepared to continue pursuing Acacia. The ambient ticking was getting louder, punctuated by the increasing skitter-click of the Countess’ footsteps.
The elf, getting her bearings, followed the trail down a narrow gap between the rears of two rows of exhibits - she could see where Acacia had leapt onto the tops of the displays, but the elf couldn’t be bothered with that kind of thing. Inching her way around a bed of nails, Holly turned and started at the sight of the Countess, whose steely hand had plucked a violet droplet from the air.
With a chiming voice that belied the irritation of first Thane then Acacia’s headache-inducing attacks, the amalgam trilled, “In a hurry, dear?”
Holly swallowed, throat dry. There was no visual cue for it, but she could just tell the amalgam's mood was murderous.
The Countess didn't move, but Holly knew the amalgam could hold itself unnaturally still. Even so, she expected that implacable monstrosity to grin, or snarl, or acknowledge her in some way-
Actually, screw whatever expectations she had of the Countess, Holly berated herself savagely. She kind of wished the ticking nutcase was simply getting its kicks from terrifying the others... oh, who was she kidding. The Countess scared her as well, and to refuse to acknowledge such a glaring fact was just asking for trouble. The elf considered, for a brief moment, reaching out and borrowing some of the Countess' icy confidence to bolster her own, but recalled she'd already done that and left the creature none-too-happy.
The Countess still hadn't moved. Holly, frowning a little, cautiously unshouldered her pack and armed herself with a rock she'd thought to toss in there. A lack of response prompted her to let it crumble to dust in her grip, its coveted solidarity rushing up her arm and settling the uneasy feeling in the elf’s chest.
Confidence bolstered, Holly refocused and re-coalesced those toxic little droplets. Holly had circumnavigated the Countess as best she could, paused there behind a display and... ok, at some point the motionless Countess had stopped freaking the elf out, and just gotten weird.
Fear giving way to curiosity, Holly approached, before realising - it was too quiet. The ticking, whirring, clicking and purring that followed the clockwork beast around should’ve alerted Holly long before either madwoman had spotted the other. Almost laughing with relief was it not for the implication of this discovery slapping her about, the elf skipped up to what was now quite evidently a statue.
A low rope encircled the Countess, which Holly stayed behind out of consideration to the various other exhibits she’d ‘interacted’ with in the museum. A plaque, one of several set on the floor, was scuffed underfoot as she took the opportunity to get a decent look at her foe. It wasn’t an exact replica of her - the legs had bulky pistons clamped to their sides, and the whole form was overall sturdier. The body’s shape was dictated by the cogs that made it, and not the other way around. The jaws were even more savage than those Holly was used to, the way they were too big for the face reminding the elf of some kind of steel trap.
Lifting her foot to examine the plaque underfoot yielded more interesting information. Although some of the explanation on nanite infection and the implications of concurrent organ failure went over Holly’s head (while what did sink in merely sounded excruciating) the history behind this exhibit, the elf had to concede, could be potentially useful.
So she persevered, scribbling notes in the margins of a book as needed, until she heard the strains of an approaching horde of clocks. Holly cursed, and jammed the book into her bag and prepared to continue pursuing Acacia. The ambient ticking was getting louder, punctuated by the increasing skitter-click of the Countess’ footsteps.
The elf, getting her bearings, followed the trail down a narrow gap between the rears of two rows of exhibits - she could see where Acacia had leapt onto the tops of the displays, but the elf couldn’t be bothered with that kind of thing. Inching her way around a bed of nails, Holly turned and started at the sight of the Countess, whose steely hand had plucked a violet droplet from the air.
With a chiming voice that belied the irritation of first Thane then Acacia’s headache-inducing attacks, the amalgam trilled, “In a hurry, dear?”
Holly swallowed, throat dry. There was no visual cue for it, but she could just tell the amalgam's mood was murderous.
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