Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 5: GrandCon]
03-17-2012, 08:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-06-2013, 05:18 AM by MaxieSatan.)
Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.
Holly was greeted, on arrival, by three voices. The first was easy enough to ignore, since it had been in her head for a while now and was showing no intention of going away. The other two, however, were a bit more fascinating. Pressing her ear to the door of the hotel room, she could hear two individuals with rather obviously fake accents discussing some nonsense or other.
"I'm telling you," enunciated one in an old-timey British tone as he chewed something, "supplemental materials aren't canon. They never met."
He was met by an attempt at German that sounded, if it could be said to sound like anything, like a dying French-Scot. "If you had bothered to read the foreword to Battle Royal Movement 2: D.S. Al Coda: Vol. 1, you would have noticed that 'Haze' Martin explicitly considers all cut plans and prequel novels canon." This statement was punctuated by a very loud crunch.
"First of all, 'Whirlwind' is far superior to 'Haze,' and he disapproved of the idea. Second, we're not talking about novels, we're talking about the comics version."
"Which is, according to Wikipulvis and AMP'S Database Dot Net, going to have the relevant issues compiled, expanded, and released as a novel this June."
"Shit, really?"
The voices faded, but Holly's interest was piqued. The hotel room seemed dull at best-- even the modern affinities such as television and phones didn't particularly interest Holly at this point, as not only had she spent some time on a space station, but she was currently more concerned with the amalgamation of tiny robots that she still had to deal with because she was too incompetent to kill her and would that voice shut up already, god-- and while it might be somewhat isolated if she locked it, she didn't expect that to stop Countess or Algernon getting in. She grabbed a pillow and stuffed it into her bag, then (after making a token effort to wipe the swamp sludge off her dress with a blanket) headed out and chased after the voices. "Hey! You!"
Almost immediately, they turned to face her, and two things struck Holly. First, the concept of nerds being eternal and her vague sense of emotional signature giving her an idea of what they were like, she was immediately put off a bit; she then reminded herself that Cherry would be fine dealing with pimple-faced book-reading losers but you're not Cherry but she might as goddamn well be, so she was going to talk to them anyway. The more notable thing is that, while she didn't recognize the one on the left as anything more than some badly-groomed idiot in a stupid coat, the one on the right-- covered in gray body paint and fake scars, wearing horns and oversized arms made out of cardboard-- was somehow memorable, if only due to the precise pattern of scratches.
Said gray man took a large bite of his rock candy, smiled, and continued in his ridiculous voice. "Ah, but here is the lady herself! Tell me, Miss Tallbirch, do you believe that you met me before, or was that merely a fabrication?" The man in the coat turned to view the elf as well, albeit roughly seven inches below eye level, murmuring something about an excellent resemblance.
Holly stared blankly at him. She had just about no idea how he recognized her or what he was talking about. Seeming to sense this, he continued. "Steinwaffe? Or, Constable Stonearm, as you'd call me, but I'm out of uniform at the moment."
At this, the resemblance clicked in Holly's mind, and she began panicking. "Look, I don't want any trouble, okay? I'm in a really bad situation, and... and I'm reformed, honest..."
It was now the cosplayers' turn to stare in confusion, before chuckling (the one dressed as Parsley accidentally spitting out several crumbs of baguette). Then the pseudo-gargoyle cleared his throat, and continued, "I'm not here to arrest you, Miss Tallbirch. I am merely here to confirm that we have, in fact, met."
"Um. Yeah, we have."
The man dressed as Steinwaffe then punched his companion gently in the shoulder, blurted out a distinctly not-in-character "told ya so", and grinned. His friend, in turn, scowled, before the two of them began to walk off. Once again, Holly started to panic. "Wait!"
The cosplayers turned, Parsley giving her a blatantly-attempting-to-be-disinterested-and-relaxed "yeah?" in response.
The elf responded by looking at her feet and doing her best to look shy and nervous. "Well, I've never been..." Realizing she still had no idea where she was from a practical standpoint, she proceeded into a series of incomprehensible mumbles before leading into "before, and I could use help from someone who knows what they're doing..."
Steinwaffe glanced at Parsley for a moment, both of them sweating quite a bit. Eventually, the faux-statue mumbled a "sure" and the two began leading Holly through the hotel. As they got into an elevator, Parsley piped up with "So, milady. I see that you're quite a fan of the Gradual Massacre."
Holly blinked. Okay. So these guys knew about the battle, but apparently didn't know she was in it... somehow? She decided to take a shot in the dark. "Uh, yeah! But, um, this is just because... I'm interested in... Holly in particular? It's not my... favorite, uh, thing..."
Steinwaffe chuckled. "More of a Fearsome Encounter woman, then?"
"A what?"
Raising an eyebrow, he continued in a tone of voice combining sarcasm and confusion. "Well, it may be the most recent battle to begin development, but certainly someone with such an excellent costume as yourself is entirely up to date on Grand Battle canon, if only from the fan sites?"
Most recent battle? "There's, uh... more of these?"
Steinwaffe stared at her like she was the stupidest person he'd ever met; Parsley continued his pattern of staring a bit lower and a lot more worshipfully. The former piped up, "Yes, fool, there's more than just the Gradual Massacre. I should think someone attending this convention would know better." Parsley responded by elbowing his compatriot in the gut and, as the elevator doors opened, grabbing Holly by the arm and escorting her out (forcing her to do her best acting job to avoid scowling, since it wasn't particularly convenient to rummage in her bag for something associated with joy or patience).
"What my oh-so-rude and monstrous ally in the fine art of hunting evil creatures means, milady, is that he is quite impressed by the amount of effort you are putting into not breaking character. Would that I could do the same, but alas, if breaking the fourth wall shall spare a lady his idiocy, than break the fourth wall I must. I shall try to avoid it."
"Um, yeah. Listen, thanks, but I've got to go now." Holly gave the man a quick kiss on the cheek, immobilizing him with astonishment long enough for her to stride off. Staying in character? Breaking the fourth wall? Were she and everyone she knew nothing but a goddamn story to him or something? How adorable. You were already pathetic and weak, and now you discover you're not even real. But she was real. She could think and feel and stuff. And if she could be here, that just proved that it was more than a story.
Or did it? As she passed by a giant typewriter with legs and eye holes shouting at a woman with a green scarf about how she was supposed to be Gabriella, not Jennifer-- said woman responding that they had agreed that she was coming as Jen and he was coming as Max and Deux It 2 It was way better than Gloryhole's Fuckmanship in any place, leading him to shout even louder about her utter lack of taste and why did they ever start going out in the first place-- Holly began thinking.
She was crazy, she knew that; that idiotic little voice wouldn't shut up about it. Maybe she wasn't Holly Tallbirch at all, but just some stupid loser who thought she was Holly. Maybe her whole life was a lie she'd made up to distract herself!
But there was an easy enough way to disprove this, she realized. Holding out her hand, she focused, and soon enough a pile of defective compasses, some 14-inch rulers labeled as standard 12-inch ones, and a single gun with no rounds in it materialized. Okay, so she could actually do magic, which probably meant she was actually who she thought she was Oh yeah because nobody's ever hallucinated before, especially not you and that was a stupid thing to say because you're a hallucination anyway, asshole.
Holly looked around. There were quite a few people around, and in the distance, she could see some booths selling clothing, books, and what appeared to be statuettes; she decided that she might as well take this lead and head out.
Holly was greeted, on arrival, by three voices. The first was easy enough to ignore, since it had been in her head for a while now and was showing no intention of going away. The other two, however, were a bit more fascinating. Pressing her ear to the door of the hotel room, she could hear two individuals with rather obviously fake accents discussing some nonsense or other.
"I'm telling you," enunciated one in an old-timey British tone as he chewed something, "supplemental materials aren't canon. They never met."
He was met by an attempt at German that sounded, if it could be said to sound like anything, like a dying French-Scot. "If you had bothered to read the foreword to Battle Royal Movement 2: D.S. Al Coda: Vol. 1, you would have noticed that 'Haze' Martin explicitly considers all cut plans and prequel novels canon." This statement was punctuated by a very loud crunch.
"First of all, 'Whirlwind' is far superior to 'Haze,' and he disapproved of the idea. Second, we're not talking about novels, we're talking about the comics version."
"Which is, according to Wikipulvis and AMP'S Database Dot Net, going to have the relevant issues compiled, expanded, and released as a novel this June."
"Shit, really?"
The voices faded, but Holly's interest was piqued. The hotel room seemed dull at best-- even the modern affinities such as television and phones didn't particularly interest Holly at this point, as not only had she spent some time on a space station, but she was currently more concerned with the amalgamation of tiny robots that she still had to deal with because she was too incompetent to kill her and would that voice shut up already, god-- and while it might be somewhat isolated if she locked it, she didn't expect that to stop Countess or Algernon getting in. She grabbed a pillow and stuffed it into her bag, then (after making a token effort to wipe the swamp sludge off her dress with a blanket) headed out and chased after the voices. "Hey! You!"
Almost immediately, they turned to face her, and two things struck Holly. First, the concept of nerds being eternal and her vague sense of emotional signature giving her an idea of what they were like, she was immediately put off a bit; she then reminded herself that Cherry would be fine dealing with pimple-faced book-reading losers but you're not Cherry but she might as goddamn well be, so she was going to talk to them anyway. The more notable thing is that, while she didn't recognize the one on the left as anything more than some badly-groomed idiot in a stupid coat, the one on the right-- covered in gray body paint and fake scars, wearing horns and oversized arms made out of cardboard-- was somehow memorable, if only due to the precise pattern of scratches.
Said gray man took a large bite of his rock candy, smiled, and continued in his ridiculous voice. "Ah, but here is the lady herself! Tell me, Miss Tallbirch, do you believe that you met me before, or was that merely a fabrication?" The man in the coat turned to view the elf as well, albeit roughly seven inches below eye level, murmuring something about an excellent resemblance.
Holly stared blankly at him. She had just about no idea how he recognized her or what he was talking about. Seeming to sense this, he continued. "Steinwaffe? Or, Constable Stonearm, as you'd call me, but I'm out of uniform at the moment."
At this, the resemblance clicked in Holly's mind, and she began panicking. "Look, I don't want any trouble, okay? I'm in a really bad situation, and... and I'm reformed, honest..."
It was now the cosplayers' turn to stare in confusion, before chuckling (the one dressed as Parsley accidentally spitting out several crumbs of baguette). Then the pseudo-gargoyle cleared his throat, and continued, "I'm not here to arrest you, Miss Tallbirch. I am merely here to confirm that we have, in fact, met."
"Um. Yeah, we have."
The man dressed as Steinwaffe then punched his companion gently in the shoulder, blurted out a distinctly not-in-character "told ya so", and grinned. His friend, in turn, scowled, before the two of them began to walk off. Once again, Holly started to panic. "Wait!"
The cosplayers turned, Parsley giving her a blatantly-attempting-to-be-disinterested-and-relaxed "yeah?" in response.
The elf responded by looking at her feet and doing her best to look shy and nervous. "Well, I've never been..." Realizing she still had no idea where she was from a practical standpoint, she proceeded into a series of incomprehensible mumbles before leading into "before, and I could use help from someone who knows what they're doing..."
Steinwaffe glanced at Parsley for a moment, both of them sweating quite a bit. Eventually, the faux-statue mumbled a "sure" and the two began leading Holly through the hotel. As they got into an elevator, Parsley piped up with "So, milady. I see that you're quite a fan of the Gradual Massacre."
Holly blinked. Okay. So these guys knew about the battle, but apparently didn't know she was in it... somehow? She decided to take a shot in the dark. "Uh, yeah! But, um, this is just because... I'm interested in... Holly in particular? It's not my... favorite, uh, thing..."
Steinwaffe chuckled. "More of a Fearsome Encounter woman, then?"
"A what?"
Raising an eyebrow, he continued in a tone of voice combining sarcasm and confusion. "Well, it may be the most recent battle to begin development, but certainly someone with such an excellent costume as yourself is entirely up to date on Grand Battle canon, if only from the fan sites?"
Most recent battle? "There's, uh... more of these?"
Steinwaffe stared at her like she was the stupidest person he'd ever met; Parsley continued his pattern of staring a bit lower and a lot more worshipfully. The former piped up, "Yes, fool, there's more than just the Gradual Massacre. I should think someone attending this convention would know better." Parsley responded by elbowing his compatriot in the gut and, as the elevator doors opened, grabbing Holly by the arm and escorting her out (forcing her to do her best acting job to avoid scowling, since it wasn't particularly convenient to rummage in her bag for something associated with joy or patience).
"What my oh-so-rude and monstrous ally in the fine art of hunting evil creatures means, milady, is that he is quite impressed by the amount of effort you are putting into not breaking character. Would that I could do the same, but alas, if breaking the fourth wall shall spare a lady his idiocy, than break the fourth wall I must. I shall try to avoid it."
"Um, yeah. Listen, thanks, but I've got to go now." Holly gave the man a quick kiss on the cheek, immobilizing him with astonishment long enough for her to stride off. Staying in character? Breaking the fourth wall? Were she and everyone she knew nothing but a goddamn story to him or something? How adorable. You were already pathetic and weak, and now you discover you're not even real. But she was real. She could think and feel and stuff. And if she could be here, that just proved that it was more than a story.
Or did it? As she passed by a giant typewriter with legs and eye holes shouting at a woman with a green scarf about how she was supposed to be Gabriella, not Jennifer-- said woman responding that they had agreed that she was coming as Jen and he was coming as Max and Deux It 2 It was way better than Gloryhole's Fuckmanship in any place, leading him to shout even louder about her utter lack of taste and why did they ever start going out in the first place-- Holly began thinking.
She was crazy, she knew that; that idiotic little voice wouldn't shut up about it. Maybe she wasn't Holly Tallbirch at all, but just some stupid loser who thought she was Holly. Maybe her whole life was a lie she'd made up to distract herself!
But there was an easy enough way to disprove this, she realized. Holding out her hand, she focused, and soon enough a pile of defective compasses, some 14-inch rulers labeled as standard 12-inch ones, and a single gun with no rounds in it materialized. Okay, so she could actually do magic, which probably meant she was actually who she thought she was Oh yeah because nobody's ever hallucinated before, especially not you and that was a stupid thing to say because you're a hallucination anyway, asshole.
Holly looked around. There were quite a few people around, and in the distance, she could see some booths selling clothing, books, and what appeared to be statuettes; she decided that she might as well take this lead and head out.