Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 2: The Museum]
10-02-2010, 10:51 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
The Countess considered chiding Pluck with a little threat to kill him if he didn't help, but then conceded the werewolf was convinced she was a psychotic murderer anyway. The thought made her smirk audibly, with a noise like knuckles cracking.
"Go on," she said softly, projectile still aimed square at his head, "I'm thinking of something - it's certain to stop the robots from being a problem."
Pluck pulled a face, but the way the spring-loaded hand waved at him left him no choice. He fumbled with some kind of gun even the Countess seemed to be having trouble envisioning properly, but moments later the werewolf was hefting the sizeable barrel on his shoulder, peering through the scope.
"What's this do?"
"It'll fire circuit-scrambling pulses, which should stop the displays in their tracks. I assume-"
The Countess' words were cut off with a staticky sigh, and a chestful of electricity. Her retaliatory shot missed its mark between Pluck's eyes, but caught him in the side instead. The werewolf hissed in pain, shouldered his new weapon a bit more securely, then fled the twitching, locked-up form of the Countess.
He got a fair distance before the unpleasasnt grinding noises ceased, and more on instinct than reflexes ducked sharply out of the way of another shrapnel dart. Pluck winced in pain as the fresh wound in his flank tore open some more, then ducked between two exihibts and got away from the Countess as fast as he could.
"Huh? Arnold?"
There was a dull boom from another part of the museum, jolting the young man awake. Algernon was very suddenly aware that the knight wasn't by his side any more. He stood shakily, glancing up and down the row of exhibits, then leapt about a foot in the air when he heard a voice behind him.
"Yeah?"
Arnold grinned a little at Algernon's skittishness, before settling back where he'd been before the disappearing act. "At ease, soldier. There was something I wanted to go and check out, that's all."
Algernon relaxed a little, but that sense of unease he got when something, really important and very relevant to the situation at hand, had waltzed out of his brain refused to stop nagging him. With a sigh, he gave up, and slumped back down again.
"What... what was that explosion about?"
Arnold shrugged. "I was wandering that way before I found you, so something from the robot repair bays?"
"Huh." It didn't quite cross Algernon's mind exactly how Arnold knew that, but nobody was too bothered.
Pluck didn't stop running until the ticking had faded into the distance, and even then felt the need to ignore the pain in his flank and keep moving. As he walked, he examined his newly acquired weapon - it didn't have any gauges or switches - just a scope, a humming barrel which was making his fur stand on end, and a trigger.
Putting the bazooka down for a moment, Pluck winced as he peeled back his trenchcoat - the Countess' aim was exemplary, though examining the mess of matted fur and blood made him wish it wasn't. He didn't feel honestly bad for betraying the amalgam - as if the Controller's threats weren't deterrent enough, the Countess herself was legitimately terrifying. Not to mention violent, and judging by the cannon at his side, not particularly bright, either.
Pluck gritted his teeth, used his knife to cut a strip of ruined trenchcoat to banadage himself up, and looked up at the thin curl of smoke rising from the direction the clockwork beast had wanted to go. Figuring that was the last place he reckoned the Countess would expect him to go, and the bazooka on his back making the animatronics seem like less of a threat, the werewolf headed off in the direction of further destructive noises.
The displays changed as he walked, from more familiar examples of torture to futuristic machines. Pluck did his best to not pay much attention, pace slowing as he approached the site of the continued sound of metal being ripped apart. He paused, hiding behind a giant severed robot arm which showered him with sparks. On his way down this stretch of exhibits, Pluck had spotted the Countess' door at the end through the haze - it was just a matter of avoiding whatever had been destroying everything-
Something clawing at the interior of his skull, which Pluck had originally assumed were aural afterimages of Ouroborus' shriek, spontaneously reached a mind-rending pitch. Something homed in on the werewolf with unnatural speed through the wreckage, its hulking arms effortlessly tearing a stray beam out of its way.
Pluck figured out who was causing the mental assault as they grabbed him by the shoulder in a crush-grip, robotic fingers displacing bone. The attack on the werewolf's mind stopped long enough for him to stare into those abominable black eyes, before they narrowed with a callous hatred and Thane tossed him bodily into the smoking remnants of a repair terminal.
Pluck struggled to stand as the rampaging monstrosity stomped towards him - all of Thane's limbs had been replaced or augmented, Pluck could be forgivven for not being able to tell which in the present circumstances. His arm, down from the shoulder where Thane had seized it, was dead. The werewolf could only whimper as the abomination lifted him again by the shoulder pinned him to the wall, and finished him off - one dizzying blow to the jaw, to take the edge off a ribcage-crushing punch to the chest.
The Countess considered chiding Pluck with a little threat to kill him if he didn't help, but then conceded the werewolf was convinced she was a psychotic murderer anyway. The thought made her smirk audibly, with a noise like knuckles cracking.
"Go on," she said softly, projectile still aimed square at his head, "I'm thinking of something - it's certain to stop the robots from being a problem."
Pluck pulled a face, but the way the spring-loaded hand waved at him left him no choice. He fumbled with some kind of gun even the Countess seemed to be having trouble envisioning properly, but moments later the werewolf was hefting the sizeable barrel on his shoulder, peering through the scope.
"What's this do?"
"It'll fire circuit-scrambling pulses, which should stop the displays in their tracks. I assume-"
The Countess' words were cut off with a staticky sigh, and a chestful of electricity. Her retaliatory shot missed its mark between Pluck's eyes, but caught him in the side instead. The werewolf hissed in pain, shouldered his new weapon a bit more securely, then fled the twitching, locked-up form of the Countess.
He got a fair distance before the unpleasasnt grinding noises ceased, and more on instinct than reflexes ducked sharply out of the way of another shrapnel dart. Pluck winced in pain as the fresh wound in his flank tore open some more, then ducked between two exihibts and got away from the Countess as fast as he could.
"Huh? Arnold?"
There was a dull boom from another part of the museum, jolting the young man awake. Algernon was very suddenly aware that the knight wasn't by his side any more. He stood shakily, glancing up and down the row of exhibits, then leapt about a foot in the air when he heard a voice behind him.
"Yeah?"
Arnold grinned a little at Algernon's skittishness, before settling back where he'd been before the disappearing act. "At ease, soldier. There was something I wanted to go and check out, that's all."
Algernon relaxed a little, but that sense of unease he got when something, really important and very relevant to the situation at hand, had waltzed out of his brain refused to stop nagging him. With a sigh, he gave up, and slumped back down again.
"What... what was that explosion about?"
Arnold shrugged. "I was wandering that way before I found you, so something from the robot repair bays?"
"Huh." It didn't quite cross Algernon's mind exactly how Arnold knew that, but nobody was too bothered.
Pluck didn't stop running until the ticking had faded into the distance, and even then felt the need to ignore the pain in his flank and keep moving. As he walked, he examined his newly acquired weapon - it didn't have any gauges or switches - just a scope, a humming barrel which was making his fur stand on end, and a trigger.
Putting the bazooka down for a moment, Pluck winced as he peeled back his trenchcoat - the Countess' aim was exemplary, though examining the mess of matted fur and blood made him wish it wasn't. He didn't feel honestly bad for betraying the amalgam - as if the Controller's threats weren't deterrent enough, the Countess herself was legitimately terrifying. Not to mention violent, and judging by the cannon at his side, not particularly bright, either.
Pluck gritted his teeth, used his knife to cut a strip of ruined trenchcoat to banadage himself up, and looked up at the thin curl of smoke rising from the direction the clockwork beast had wanted to go. Figuring that was the last place he reckoned the Countess would expect him to go, and the bazooka on his back making the animatronics seem like less of a threat, the werewolf headed off in the direction of further destructive noises.
The displays changed as he walked, from more familiar examples of torture to futuristic machines. Pluck did his best to not pay much attention, pace slowing as he approached the site of the continued sound of metal being ripped apart. He paused, hiding behind a giant severed robot arm which showered him with sparks. On his way down this stretch of exhibits, Pluck had spotted the Countess' door at the end through the haze - it was just a matter of avoiding whatever had been destroying everything-
Something clawing at the interior of his skull, which Pluck had originally assumed were aural afterimages of Ouroborus' shriek, spontaneously reached a mind-rending pitch. Something homed in on the werewolf with unnatural speed through the wreckage, its hulking arms effortlessly tearing a stray beam out of its way.
Pluck figured out who was causing the mental assault as they grabbed him by the shoulder in a crush-grip, robotic fingers displacing bone. The attack on the werewolf's mind stopped long enough for him to stare into those abominable black eyes, before they narrowed with a callous hatred and Thane tossed him bodily into the smoking remnants of a repair terminal.
Pluck struggled to stand as the rampaging monstrosity stomped towards him - all of Thane's limbs had been replaced or augmented, Pluck could be forgivven for not being able to tell which in the present circumstances. His arm, down from the shoulder where Thane had seized it, was dead. The werewolf could only whimper as the abomination lifted him again by the shoulder pinned him to the wall, and finished him off - one dizzying blow to the jaw, to take the edge off a ribcage-crushing punch to the chest.
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