Re: The Great Belligerency [Round 1: The Rainy Place]
10-02-2010, 08:46 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.
The girl navigated the trembling hand-trees with superfluous ease, practically flying through the dense and unpredictable obstacle course. Her destination was unclear; she was not moving in anything resembling a straight line. It was as if she were navigating through an invisible maze...
Deep inside her mind, an indicator made its presence known. Someone was trying to contact her; this time, however, carrying the signature of her brother. She pulled up the standard circular, enclosed room in her secondary vision. Hoss was already waiting.
"I've dealt with things on my end. The Cultivator has yet made no move, but I've made it clear I'm not playing her silly little game. Report."
"There is a contestant in my battle I think you should meet. His name is Vandrel Reinhardt, and he shares your philosophies and past, to an extent. He's a tyrant, a usurper, and apparently ruled his kingdom with an iron fist. From what little I've been able to observe of his interactions, he is also explicitly pro-human. To what extent I am uncertain, but his reputation as a tactician was enough to warrant a comment from my battle's... organizer. He will be a valuable asset."
As the girl had been talking, Hoss began to pace. He nodded as she finished.
"Good. Make contact. I would like to speak with him."
"I am already on my way."
"Excellent. I should get back to things on my end, if there's nothing else."
The girl hesitated, a slight inhale of breath betraying her uncertainty.
"Actually... there is."
Hoss raised an eyebrow.
"Continue."
"Earlier, I was contacted on this line by another... person. I have the message stored."
The two turned to face one side of the circular room, which suddenly contained a screen, showing, at first, nothing. Then a voice, "-ntum thingy to maybe get out of here, if I can just... No, what- Gah. Cursed technology."
A face then came into view, a rather worn-looking man with Old-Earth tinted sunglasses; "Aviators", the two observers remember. The girl's voice came from the screen, saying, "You're connected. I can see you."
"Oh, good. Listen, I'm Officer Arnold Scarlet, Seattle PD, and I am currently a captive of a being calling itself the Controller. He-"
"Let me guess, he's forcing you and a group of others to fight to the death."
The man shook his head. "I only wish. He started off like that, but early on, he took me out of the battle and tortured me as an example to the others. Since then, I've been stuck in this place.
"Sounds horrible." Her false empathy was almost believable. "How did you contact me?"
"He went off to take care of some 'opportunity' that came up and left me here alone. One of his computers lit up and said something about an 'interaction between tagged dimensions' and 'threaded entanglement,' and I though it might be a chance to get out of here."
"Unfortunately, no."
"Shame, I-" He stopped, appearing to notice something, and the image vanished abruptly.
Hoss cocked his head slightly. "Interesting... and I don't just mean the terribly pedantic naming conventions of these multiversal thrill-seekers. 'The Controller', 'The Cultivator', 'The Executor'. Terrible." He turned to his sister, "Did you notice anything off?"
She considered briefly before answering, "... yes, I did. I can't quite place my finger on it, but... why would someone who's being tortured be wearing stylish accessories like those sunglasses?"
Hoss turned back to where the screen had been. "My thoughts exactly. Still, whoever he is, he apparently has the capability to intercept and force open our line of communication. If he contacts you again, bring him into the fold. We'd best keep him close."
"Understood. I-"
Abruptly, the girl stopped, staring off into space. "Pardon, there has been a development." She vanished from the room. Shortly afterwards, Hoss did as well.
Back in the Forest of Hands, though now with less Forest and less Hands, the girl found herself face-to-face with a god.
She could see her target, Lord Reinhardt, behind him, but a wall slide into place, blocking her path and forcing a confrontation. Balance spoke.
"I know you're the cause of the dimensional crack. Whatever you opened is now permanently ajar. I am going to fix this before the Executor finds out and you are going to help me. I know you know more than you seem to know."
Inwardly the girl cursed. Lying to a god seemed like a quick ticket to death. She would have to find some other way...
The girl cocked her head, seeming confused.
"The WMD's of Iraq."
"... what?"
"Odysseus has slipped through the gates of Troy!"
Balance could sense no deception in the girl. She was telling him the truth, but... what truth? "Stop speaking nonsen-"
"Never gonna give you up!"
Balance was, at this point, thoroughly confused, as the girl gave him a winning smile.
"Commander Shephard cannot be stopped~" she trilled, glancing to her left, where a distant suited figure stood, watching. Balance looked, recognizing Phil. He looked back to the girl, who had no visible armaments, and considered. He had no idea what she was talking about, but the soldier was closer to the door than she was, and had considerably more powerful weaponry...
As he was thinking, he realized the girl was no longer in front of him. He looked around, and, finding nothing, lowered the wall. There she was, talking to Vandrel Reinhardt. He began to move forward, when a pillar of fungus slammed through the slightly disoriented group. He lost sight of the girl and the tyrant, as he was forced to confront his senile mother's god-tantrum.
Seconds earlier...
Vaulting the wall took no effort. Her internal Higgs Field manipulator lowered her relative mass to next to nothing, allowing near-instant acceleration and a high degree of control over her movements. Within less than a second, she was facing her goal, and he was facing her.
"Come, show me what you want. But any signs of opposition..." the tyrant pointed his sword at her neck, "... and it's your head. Understood?"
The girl bowed slightly, acknowledging the man's authority. She gestured, and the two began to move away from the group; however, as the reckless fungus burst through the portal that had brought them here, she grabbed his arm and he suddenly felt... very odd. Very light, but mostly very odd. And they were suddenly moving, faster than he'd ever seen anyone move, even the mages...
His eyes narrowed. Magic. It had to be. This normal-looking girl must be a filthy magic-user. He had no choice but to exterminate her-
They stopped, now out of view from the others. She let go and turned towards him, putting up a placating hand to stop his sword.
"Please, that is unnecessary."
"You are a mage, a filthy sub-human. You must be exterminated."
The girl shook her head. "I do not use magic. Where I come from, magic does not exist. It will be explained. First, though, there is someone I would like you to meet."
"Who-"
The girl suddenly had a finger placed on his forehead, and he found himself in a circular room, completely enclosed. On one side was the girl. On the other was a man with solid silver eyes, wearing a black overcoat and generally dressed entirely too warm for the occasion.
The man smiled. "Hello, Vandrel Reinhardt. You may call me the Hand of Silver. We have a few things in common, and I think you'll be interested in what I have to say."
The girl navigated the trembling hand-trees with superfluous ease, practically flying through the dense and unpredictable obstacle course. Her destination was unclear; she was not moving in anything resembling a straight line. It was as if she were navigating through an invisible maze...
Deep inside her mind, an indicator made its presence known. Someone was trying to contact her; this time, however, carrying the signature of her brother. She pulled up the standard circular, enclosed room in her secondary vision. Hoss was already waiting.
"I've dealt with things on my end. The Cultivator has yet made no move, but I've made it clear I'm not playing her silly little game. Report."
"There is a contestant in my battle I think you should meet. His name is Vandrel Reinhardt, and he shares your philosophies and past, to an extent. He's a tyrant, a usurper, and apparently ruled his kingdom with an iron fist. From what little I've been able to observe of his interactions, he is also explicitly pro-human. To what extent I am uncertain, but his reputation as a tactician was enough to warrant a comment from my battle's... organizer. He will be a valuable asset."
As the girl had been talking, Hoss began to pace. He nodded as she finished.
"Good. Make contact. I would like to speak with him."
"I am already on my way."
"Excellent. I should get back to things on my end, if there's nothing else."
The girl hesitated, a slight inhale of breath betraying her uncertainty.
"Actually... there is."
Hoss raised an eyebrow.
"Continue."
"Earlier, I was contacted on this line by another... person. I have the message stored."
The two turned to face one side of the circular room, which suddenly contained a screen, showing, at first, nothing. Then a voice, "-ntum thingy to maybe get out of here, if I can just... No, what- Gah. Cursed technology."
A face then came into view, a rather worn-looking man with Old-Earth tinted sunglasses; "Aviators", the two observers remember. The girl's voice came from the screen, saying, "You're connected. I can see you."
"Oh, good. Listen, I'm Officer Arnold Scarlet, Seattle PD, and I am currently a captive of a being calling itself the Controller. He-"
"Let me guess, he's forcing you and a group of others to fight to the death."
The man shook his head. "I only wish. He started off like that, but early on, he took me out of the battle and tortured me as an example to the others. Since then, I've been stuck in this place.
"Sounds horrible." Her false empathy was almost believable. "How did you contact me?"
"He went off to take care of some 'opportunity' that came up and left me here alone. One of his computers lit up and said something about an 'interaction between tagged dimensions' and 'threaded entanglement,' and I though it might be a chance to get out of here."
"Unfortunately, no."
"Shame, I-" He stopped, appearing to notice something, and the image vanished abruptly.
Hoss cocked his head slightly. "Interesting... and I don't just mean the terribly pedantic naming conventions of these multiversal thrill-seekers. 'The Controller', 'The Cultivator', 'The Executor'. Terrible." He turned to his sister, "Did you notice anything off?"
She considered briefly before answering, "... yes, I did. I can't quite place my finger on it, but... why would someone who's being tortured be wearing stylish accessories like those sunglasses?"
Hoss turned back to where the screen had been. "My thoughts exactly. Still, whoever he is, he apparently has the capability to intercept and force open our line of communication. If he contacts you again, bring him into the fold. We'd best keep him close."
"Understood. I-"
Abruptly, the girl stopped, staring off into space. "Pardon, there has been a development." She vanished from the room. Shortly afterwards, Hoss did as well.
Back in the Forest of Hands, though now with less Forest and less Hands, the girl found herself face-to-face with a god.
She could see her target, Lord Reinhardt, behind him, but a wall slide into place, blocking her path and forcing a confrontation. Balance spoke.
"I know you're the cause of the dimensional crack. Whatever you opened is now permanently ajar. I am going to fix this before the Executor finds out and you are going to help me. I know you know more than you seem to know."
Inwardly the girl cursed. Lying to a god seemed like a quick ticket to death. She would have to find some other way...
The girl cocked her head, seeming confused.
"The WMD's of Iraq."
"... what?"
"Odysseus has slipped through the gates of Troy!"
Balance could sense no deception in the girl. She was telling him the truth, but... what truth? "Stop speaking nonsen-"
"Never gonna give you up!"
Balance was, at this point, thoroughly confused, as the girl gave him a winning smile.
"Commander Shephard cannot be stopped~" she trilled, glancing to her left, where a distant suited figure stood, watching. Balance looked, recognizing Phil. He looked back to the girl, who had no visible armaments, and considered. He had no idea what she was talking about, but the soldier was closer to the door than she was, and had considerably more powerful weaponry...
As he was thinking, he realized the girl was no longer in front of him. He looked around, and, finding nothing, lowered the wall. There she was, talking to Vandrel Reinhardt. He began to move forward, when a pillar of fungus slammed through the slightly disoriented group. He lost sight of the girl and the tyrant, as he was forced to confront his senile mother's god-tantrum.
Seconds earlier...
Vaulting the wall took no effort. Her internal Higgs Field manipulator lowered her relative mass to next to nothing, allowing near-instant acceleration and a high degree of control over her movements. Within less than a second, she was facing her goal, and he was facing her.
"Come, show me what you want. But any signs of opposition..." the tyrant pointed his sword at her neck, "... and it's your head. Understood?"
The girl bowed slightly, acknowledging the man's authority. She gestured, and the two began to move away from the group; however, as the reckless fungus burst through the portal that had brought them here, she grabbed his arm and he suddenly felt... very odd. Very light, but mostly very odd. And they were suddenly moving, faster than he'd ever seen anyone move, even the mages...
His eyes narrowed. Magic. It had to be. This normal-looking girl must be a filthy magic-user. He had no choice but to exterminate her-
They stopped, now out of view from the others. She let go and turned towards him, putting up a placating hand to stop his sword.
"Please, that is unnecessary."
"You are a mage, a filthy sub-human. You must be exterminated."
The girl shook her head. "I do not use magic. Where I come from, magic does not exist. It will be explained. First, though, there is someone I would like you to meet."
"Who-"
The girl suddenly had a finger placed on his forehead, and he found himself in a circular room, completely enclosed. On one side was the girl. On the other was a man with solid silver eyes, wearing a black overcoat and generally dressed entirely too warm for the occasion.
The man smiled. "Hello, Vandrel Reinhardt. You may call me the Hand of Silver. We have a few things in common, and I think you'll be interested in what I have to say."