Re: The Great Belligerency [Round 2: New Shambhala]
12-15-2010, 01:05 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
The god looked to his right.
The god looked to his left.
There was a certain flair to him. How he stood, arms folded, in the town centre, eyeing up the city folk, each with their despicable cowardice, incredible sloth, vicious lies and deception and oppression and...
He closed his eyes. This was not a past he had to judge now. There were others, far more important than ordinary people. And as of now, they went by the name of Julia.
He looked down. No, that's not quite right.
He saw down.
He saw the intricate, delicate system; everything in the town being balanced out perfectly in harmony and bliss, not only to sustain flight but also to preserve the order of nature itself, as sick as it may have sounded. This oppression of anything non-human, one which another contestant had been thriving for endlessly...
It was supposed to be.
He then noticed that with such a delicate system the presence of the battlers - there were 7, an odd number - clearly made the system lop-sided. He quickly sped up from the flying floor high into the air, hoping to undo whatever cracks in the chi his feet had been causing, gathering many an odd look. Once flying high above the city, he finally figured out his role in this battle.
He was the mediator, a force to counteract the others.
As the god assumed an almost relaxed position in midair, he observed from above with insanely keen vision that pierced through buildings and people, gathering all of New Shambhala in one quick passing-over, and only slightly regretted the fact his laws of balance required his eyes to now glimmer with an otherworldy shine. (It would, after all, only be fair for others to see him if he saw them.) Dwelling on the land, the citizen, and moreso the attentive battlers would have noticed his apppearance and ascent.
With these shining eyes he saw a laboratory erupt in flames due to a meltdown and the confused hand of his long lost mother, the demoness judge decapitate the "irksome bugs with no backstory" and the Central Station of New Shambala shut down and die off.
Balance blinked back down onto the ground, apppearing in a spot where the rough estimate of what he needed was present. His iridescent eyes hovered only a few feet of the already volar city, but he managed to keep up speed to remain exactly in the same spot.
"Citizens of New Shambhala...
...Today is your judgement."
------------------
Balance waved his hand.
The horrible god of equality stood in the center of the town set ablaze, floating above the rubble and destruction his swift motions had produced. The city population combusted at the simple cleching of Balance's fist. His face contracted into a devilish grimace, giddy laughter spewing from his lips. The sight was all but befitting a god, let alone one that is called just.
After about 32 corpses were claimed for his deeds, he teleported away to another, seemingly random spot. There, his rampage again continued, more death spreding across the random points in town he picked. Each number of casualties was measured with an unimpeachable precision, matching exactly the amount of lives the other players too in different parts of town.
At a certain spot, he did have to leave someone alive.
The confused and frightened mollusklike alien cowered in her shell, only daring to peek once to ask the question.
"...W-Why?"
"They were on the right side of town."
Balance blinked away, leaving mollusk lady to grief the abrupt passing of her friends, and reappeared in the sky, content that the casualties his boorish enemies were progenerating were balanced out again. Another job well done.
He did however remember another thing. Amy had been sending out a broadcast starring Vandrel sometime ago. Her plan was no doubt to break free and oppose the Executor. Balance knew that the Executor was too powerful for that to work. Any attempts to face him would, aside from certain death to all but one contestant, bring about a disruption.
Within a moment Balance set up a shield. Aside from the Executor's precautions to create a bubble, he would have to make sure no radio communications reached the brute and the mischievous woman. This shield would serve to protect this order.
After a split second, the Grand Battles hopped around in dimensions, jumping from place to place in an attempt to thwart the incoming messages, unbeknownst – or so the deity had hoped – to the Grandmasters.
The god looked to his right.
The god looked to his left.
There was a certain flair to him. How he stood, arms folded, in the town centre, eyeing up the city folk, each with their despicable cowardice, incredible sloth, vicious lies and deception and oppression and...
He closed his eyes. This was not a past he had to judge now. There were others, far more important than ordinary people. And as of now, they went by the name of Julia.
He looked down. No, that's not quite right.
He saw down.
He saw the intricate, delicate system; everything in the town being balanced out perfectly in harmony and bliss, not only to sustain flight but also to preserve the order of nature itself, as sick as it may have sounded. This oppression of anything non-human, one which another contestant had been thriving for endlessly...
It was supposed to be.
He then noticed that with such a delicate system the presence of the battlers - there were 7, an odd number - clearly made the system lop-sided. He quickly sped up from the flying floor high into the air, hoping to undo whatever cracks in the chi his feet had been causing, gathering many an odd look. Once flying high above the city, he finally figured out his role in this battle.
He was the mediator, a force to counteract the others.
As the god assumed an almost relaxed position in midair, he observed from above with insanely keen vision that pierced through buildings and people, gathering all of New Shambhala in one quick passing-over, and only slightly regretted the fact his laws of balance required his eyes to now glimmer with an otherworldy shine. (It would, after all, only be fair for others to see him if he saw them.) Dwelling on the land, the citizen, and moreso the attentive battlers would have noticed his apppearance and ascent.
With these shining eyes he saw a laboratory erupt in flames due to a meltdown and the confused hand of his long lost mother, the demoness judge decapitate the "irksome bugs with no backstory" and the Central Station of New Shambala shut down and die off.
Balance blinked back down onto the ground, apppearing in a spot where the rough estimate of what he needed was present. His iridescent eyes hovered only a few feet of the already volar city, but he managed to keep up speed to remain exactly in the same spot.
"Citizens of New Shambhala...
...Today is your judgement."
------------------
Balance waved his hand.
The horrible god of equality stood in the center of the town set ablaze, floating above the rubble and destruction his swift motions had produced. The city population combusted at the simple cleching of Balance's fist. His face contracted into a devilish grimace, giddy laughter spewing from his lips. The sight was all but befitting a god, let alone one that is called just.
After about 32 corpses were claimed for his deeds, he teleported away to another, seemingly random spot. There, his rampage again continued, more death spreding across the random points in town he picked. Each number of casualties was measured with an unimpeachable precision, matching exactly the amount of lives the other players too in different parts of town.
At a certain spot, he did have to leave someone alive.
The confused and frightened mollusklike alien cowered in her shell, only daring to peek once to ask the question.
"...W-Why?"
"They were on the right side of town."
Balance blinked away, leaving mollusk lady to grief the abrupt passing of her friends, and reappeared in the sky, content that the casualties his boorish enemies were progenerating were balanced out again. Another job well done.
He did however remember another thing. Amy had been sending out a broadcast starring Vandrel sometime ago. Her plan was no doubt to break free and oppose the Executor. Balance knew that the Executor was too powerful for that to work. Any attempts to face him would, aside from certain death to all but one contestant, bring about a disruption.
Within a moment Balance set up a shield. Aside from the Executor's precautions to create a bubble, he would have to make sure no radio communications reached the brute and the mischievous woman. This shield would serve to protect this order.
After a split second, the Grand Battles hopped around in dimensions, jumping from place to place in an attempt to thwart the incoming messages, unbeknownst – or so the deity had hoped – to the Grandmasters.
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.