Re: The Great Belligerency [Round 3: Eternity Plateau]
06-02-2012, 04:02 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.
Soft really didn’t know what was going on anymore.
Between the now useless narration of the story and Crow’s nearly soporific babbling, it was rather impossible to, really. It was the first time she felt entirely disoriented, almost to the point of blindness. The frogs sang and the grass flew and Soft’s head ached.
“You know, we’ll see that big ol’ tree soon. Ever see it? It’s really nice to look at. Really big,” Crow said. “Sometimes I wonder where it came from, right? Maybe there’s an even bigger tree, the Grandpapa of Universe Trees. Or something. Makes sense, right? But then there’d have to be another tree and another tree…”
She liked him. She really did. She couldn’t not like a trickster hero figure. But he certainly was very bad at not talking.
The sky grew darker around them and the shadow of the giant tree loomed above. Shapes dropped from its branches – nuts, leaves, sometimes whole twigs. They fell slowly, gently, until they rested in their places on the floor of the universe.
Below them was the world. It was nestled securely where it sat and, given a few million years, might have grown into another tree. At least she guessed it worked that way, she wasn’t actually sure. And she wasn’t getting any good answers.
Soft rubbed her tired face. Crow talked nervously as they got closer to the sun and the sword in her hand seemed to vibrate with heat. She drifted close to the flaming sphere and Crow reluctantly trailed behind, his words cutting short. Moving upwards, they finally caught sight of the Vulture.
His powerful wings beat against the Nothing, making a circular path above the many worlds. His eyes stared forward, tired and steadfast. His talons were scorched to the bone. He barely acknowledged his visitors.
“Hey bro,” Crow said much too easily while Soft looked Vulture up and down. Or rather, up and up and up and down. He was much bigger than she had expected, though she supposed a vulture would have to be rather big for a vulture in order to carry a burning world. It helped, though, that the world was small for a world. “Found a frie – well, I guess I wouldn’t consider you a friend just yet, right? I mean we just met. Acquaintance probably’d be more accurate, right? Well, you got the sword and all, so a bit more important than an acquaintance.”
Vulture managed a nod and a grunt.
“Yeah, yeah, good to see you, looks like you’re holding up alright. Right. I just came to – actually I don’t know why I came. I was following you, right? Why’d you want to come up here again?”
Soft blinked away the headache. It seemed less severe. “Vulture, it’s nice to meet you. I came to tell you that I’m relieving you from your duty.”
Vulture managed a grunt and a questioning glance.
Crow managed much more. “Oh? So you’re taking care of the sun business from here, then? Not sure how you could carry it, though, but I guess you’ve figured it out or something. That’s nice, that’s nice to know. I’m sure Vulture thinks the same, right? Not really speaking for him personally, but I’m sure he, you know, appreciates this news.”
“…What…will you…do…with it…?” Vulture asked between gasps.
Soft found it hard to answer. So she didn’t. “I will take up the responsibility.”
Vulture’s eyes flickered from the path ahead of him to Soft, then back forward.
“…No.”
“Man, you’re crazy! You’ve been doing this for eons and when someone comes along and offers to do it for you, you turn it down?” Crow blurted.
“If you let go, then things don’t have to be complicated,” Soft said, trying to control her voice, trying not to sound hysterical.
Vulture managed a cough. “…No.”
The god-killing sword sliced through Vulture’s legs like butter. The large bird fell alongside the sun in shock, wings frozen and body like lead. There were no cries from him. There were plenty from Crow.
“You – you psycho!” he roared, flinging himself towards her in a frenzy. Soft backed away quickly, watching the sun fall out of the corner of her eyes.
“Stay back,” she said, raising the sword defensively. “I only sliced his legs, he’s – “
“Oh, only cut his legs off,” Crow snarled, steadily growing larger, it seemed. He scratched her face. “Of course that’s alright! He didn’t do anything wrong!” A nip at her side. A harsh pull at her braids.
“Stop,” she said, but she had already beheaded him instinctively. Before the end of that word, the body had already fallen out of view and she was by herself and the sun continued its descent.
This was wrong. This was absolutely, irredeemably wrong.
This was a failure. She was a failure.
She looked down, hoping that at least Vulture was still alive. But it didn’t seem to be so.
She was a psychopath.
Soft really didn’t know what was going on anymore.
Between the now useless narration of the story and Crow’s nearly soporific babbling, it was rather impossible to, really. It was the first time she felt entirely disoriented, almost to the point of blindness. The frogs sang and the grass flew and Soft’s head ached.
“You know, we’ll see that big ol’ tree soon. Ever see it? It’s really nice to look at. Really big,” Crow said. “Sometimes I wonder where it came from, right? Maybe there’s an even bigger tree, the Grandpapa of Universe Trees. Or something. Makes sense, right? But then there’d have to be another tree and another tree…”
She liked him. She really did. She couldn’t not like a trickster hero figure. But he certainly was very bad at not talking.
The sky grew darker around them and the shadow of the giant tree loomed above. Shapes dropped from its branches – nuts, leaves, sometimes whole twigs. They fell slowly, gently, until they rested in their places on the floor of the universe.
Below them was the world. It was nestled securely where it sat and, given a few million years, might have grown into another tree. At least she guessed it worked that way, she wasn’t actually sure. And she wasn’t getting any good answers.
Soft rubbed her tired face. Crow talked nervously as they got closer to the sun and the sword in her hand seemed to vibrate with heat. She drifted close to the flaming sphere and Crow reluctantly trailed behind, his words cutting short. Moving upwards, they finally caught sight of the Vulture.
His powerful wings beat against the Nothing, making a circular path above the many worlds. His eyes stared forward, tired and steadfast. His talons were scorched to the bone. He barely acknowledged his visitors.
“Hey bro,” Crow said much too easily while Soft looked Vulture up and down. Or rather, up and up and up and down. He was much bigger than she had expected, though she supposed a vulture would have to be rather big for a vulture in order to carry a burning world. It helped, though, that the world was small for a world. “Found a frie – well, I guess I wouldn’t consider you a friend just yet, right? I mean we just met. Acquaintance probably’d be more accurate, right? Well, you got the sword and all, so a bit more important than an acquaintance.”
Vulture managed a nod and a grunt.
“Yeah, yeah, good to see you, looks like you’re holding up alright. Right. I just came to – actually I don’t know why I came. I was following you, right? Why’d you want to come up here again?”
Soft blinked away the headache. It seemed less severe. “Vulture, it’s nice to meet you. I came to tell you that I’m relieving you from your duty.”
Vulture managed a grunt and a questioning glance.
Crow managed much more. “Oh? So you’re taking care of the sun business from here, then? Not sure how you could carry it, though, but I guess you’ve figured it out or something. That’s nice, that’s nice to know. I’m sure Vulture thinks the same, right? Not really speaking for him personally, but I’m sure he, you know, appreciates this news.”
“…What…will you…do…with it…?” Vulture asked between gasps.
Soft found it hard to answer. So she didn’t. “I will take up the responsibility.”
Vulture’s eyes flickered from the path ahead of him to Soft, then back forward.
“…No.”
“Man, you’re crazy! You’ve been doing this for eons and when someone comes along and offers to do it for you, you turn it down?” Crow blurted.
“If you let go, then things don’t have to be complicated,” Soft said, trying to control her voice, trying not to sound hysterical.
Vulture managed a cough. “…No.”
The god-killing sword sliced through Vulture’s legs like butter. The large bird fell alongside the sun in shock, wings frozen and body like lead. There were no cries from him. There were plenty from Crow.
“You – you psycho!” he roared, flinging himself towards her in a frenzy. Soft backed away quickly, watching the sun fall out of the corner of her eyes.
“Stay back,” she said, raising the sword defensively. “I only sliced his legs, he’s – “
“Oh, only cut his legs off,” Crow snarled, steadily growing larger, it seemed. He scratched her face. “Of course that’s alright! He didn’t do anything wrong!” A nip at her side. A harsh pull at her braids.
“Stop,” she said, but she had already beheaded him instinctively. Before the end of that word, the body had already fallen out of view and she was by herself and the sun continued its descent.
This was wrong. This was absolutely, irredeemably wrong.
This was a failure. She was a failure.
She looked down, hoping that at least Vulture was still alive. But it didn’t seem to be so.
She was a psychopath.