Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 3: Las Orbitas]
10-05-2010, 09:52 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
On the uppermost deck of Las Orbitas, two beings shared a moment of contemplation. Basking in the first rays of the sun as it inched languidly out from behind the eclipsing Earth, Aaron Gilmour and the Countess stared outward from the observation deck, both quietly dreading the fact the white- and brown-smudged planet would not be their final destination tonight.
Aaron, born and raised in a space-faring city, and trained on one of those vessels colloquially known as 'offshore', was the admittedly light military accompaniment to what was predominantly a mission in civil engineering. Being the casual history buff he was, Aaron had been looking forward to a bit of sightseeing on Earth after this job. Until the Countess had proven unfazed by laser fire, he'd been doing pretty well at it, too.
The observation deck was accorded its magnificent vista of humanity's cradle by a wide smirk of glass which spanned the considerable length of the deck and curved up to the ceiling. The details of Earth's dappling, of clouds and megalopolises and plantations, were obscured by the thick layer of shielding, protecting the station's inhabitants from the solar radiation. Dotted along the length of the deck, perhaps in a nod to observation decks past, were devices offering a better view. The Countess ignored her companion's whimpering, save to raise a threatening claw, while she jimmied the credit-operated contraption. Shortly after, a section of the shielding flickered and dissipated, leaving Aaron and the Countess' view unobstructed for five counted minutes.
The Countess was beginning to realise, in her usual none-too-concerned-with-specifics kind of way, that this job wasn't quite the fun she'd been anticipating. She was supposed to be turning these idiots against each other, but the Controller had already done that. What was left for her to do? Slash their Achilles' tendons like she'd done to Aaron here? The amalgam made a ratchety noise of irritation, urging her cloudy mind to concentrate on something other than the image of eviscerating Holly.
The Controller was disappointed with her; the Countess was certain. Dissatisfied with his servant's ability to shatter the trust of these rabble, he'd stepped in and done the job himself. With typical aplomb. So... what was the Countess doing here any more? Had she been relegated to run amongst the rats, following the rules imposed on them?
Aaron's crawling escape was curtailed with an absent-minded sharp-pointed leg through the thigh, as the Countess trilled to herself. No, no. Although that last possibility had the appealing simplicity of sticking a sharp claw through most of the other contestants, it was a test. She was certain - again, she had to fight down that intoxicating rush of violent thoughts, this time cracking the shield-lowering device with a well-aimed foot - that the Controller wanted more out of her. At least, she was pretty certain.
The amalgam trekked along the length of the observation deck, activating and jamming the credit-operated machines as she went. She supposed that if the Controller wanted her to do something other than make ersatz ventilation in her fellow contestants, she could at least afford to break a few of their rules. Namely, helping them out wouldn't do her any harm, and would let her keep a better eye on whatever schemes they were assembling.
By the time the Countess reached the end of the line, Aaron had dragged himself a little further from the first region of floor lit by the raised shields, but it was a long crawl out of the deadly radiation now the the whole deck was alight. Supposing he'd be a decent indicator of Ouroboros passing through, the amalgam abandoned her fellow Earthgazer, descending to the lower decks without a word.
On the uppermost deck of Las Orbitas, two beings shared a moment of contemplation. Basking in the first rays of the sun as it inched languidly out from behind the eclipsing Earth, Aaron Gilmour and the Countess stared outward from the observation deck, both quietly dreading the fact the white- and brown-smudged planet would not be their final destination tonight.
Aaron, born and raised in a space-faring city, and trained on one of those vessels colloquially known as 'offshore', was the admittedly light military accompaniment to what was predominantly a mission in civil engineering. Being the casual history buff he was, Aaron had been looking forward to a bit of sightseeing on Earth after this job. Until the Countess had proven unfazed by laser fire, he'd been doing pretty well at it, too.
The observation deck was accorded its magnificent vista of humanity's cradle by a wide smirk of glass which spanned the considerable length of the deck and curved up to the ceiling. The details of Earth's dappling, of clouds and megalopolises and plantations, were obscured by the thick layer of shielding, protecting the station's inhabitants from the solar radiation. Dotted along the length of the deck, perhaps in a nod to observation decks past, were devices offering a better view. The Countess ignored her companion's whimpering, save to raise a threatening claw, while she jimmied the credit-operated contraption. Shortly after, a section of the shielding flickered and dissipated, leaving Aaron and the Countess' view unobstructed for five counted minutes.
The Countess was beginning to realise, in her usual none-too-concerned-with-specifics kind of way, that this job wasn't quite the fun she'd been anticipating. She was supposed to be turning these idiots against each other, but the Controller had already done that. What was left for her to do? Slash their Achilles' tendons like she'd done to Aaron here? The amalgam made a ratchety noise of irritation, urging her cloudy mind to concentrate on something other than the image of eviscerating Holly.
The Controller was disappointed with her; the Countess was certain. Dissatisfied with his servant's ability to shatter the trust of these rabble, he'd stepped in and done the job himself. With typical aplomb. So... what was the Countess doing here any more? Had she been relegated to run amongst the rats, following the rules imposed on them?
Aaron's crawling escape was curtailed with an absent-minded sharp-pointed leg through the thigh, as the Countess trilled to herself. No, no. Although that last possibility had the appealing simplicity of sticking a sharp claw through most of the other contestants, it was a test. She was certain - again, she had to fight down that intoxicating rush of violent thoughts, this time cracking the shield-lowering device with a well-aimed foot - that the Controller wanted more out of her. At least, she was pretty certain.
The amalgam trekked along the length of the observation deck, activating and jamming the credit-operated machines as she went. She supposed that if the Controller wanted her to do something other than make ersatz ventilation in her fellow contestants, she could at least afford to break a few of their rules. Namely, helping them out wouldn't do her any harm, and would let her keep a better eye on whatever schemes they were assembling.
By the time the Countess reached the end of the line, Aaron had dragged himself a little further from the first region of floor lit by the raised shields, but it was a long crawl out of the deadly radiation now the the whole deck was alight. Supposing he'd be a decent indicator of Ouroboros passing through, the amalgam abandoned her fellow Earthgazer, descending to the lower decks without a word.
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