Re: The Great Belligerency [Round 3: Eternity Plateau]
08-08-2012, 04:53 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.
Balance frowned.
He was rather despondent at this state of things - granted every debacle of the Eternity Plateau was entirely his fault and every reminder of that (which is practically everything in this damned place) peevishly sends him down the spiral of depressing self-inflections - I am a terrible god I deserve no such role whiney mcwhine whine whine. As one can see, the topics of thought were suprisingly limited for an entity with a nigh-omnipotent mind.
Now he is on the stupid field with a stupid game and there was some stupid bug man across the field, glaring daggers at him. The Cole fellow's intentions for the bat was more focused on him than the ball. In fact, he was pretty sure Cole wanted to kill him and that. That was not a reassuring thought at all.
<font color="#006600">"Hey, won't you hurry up?"
Oh great, why did this "Carl" man decided thought placing Phil and Cole together was such a good idea. Oh you guys totally have a rivalry, the announcer smiled as he winked more than necessarily. We should totally place you on two different teams. It'll be great for television. How the fuck do they have television in this period of time. Oh right, Eternity broke. Or something like that. Balance did not even know anymore.
"HEY, Buttlance. YO!"
Balanced glowered at Phil. Phil the space marine. Phil the man with the bat. Phil the opponent who beated the shit out of him. It was no surprise that the god of equilibrium greatly disliked the man's cocky presence.
"Gonna start?" The mercenary called yet again.
At this stage, Balance's disdain for the surly man has transcended beyond benign neutrality. He could not explain what state of mind he was in, what emotion he was feeling but it was definitely not the usual nihilism he was used to as Balance had felt this intense desire to bean Phil into his bone-headed face. It was very much unlike what he is - or what he presented, but honestly - why should he care at this state of time?
Balance glowered at the ball in his palms. A lowly mortal who looked at this object would go blind - after all, it was the sun - the star, the ball of fusing hydrogen, the source of energy for this plane of existence. There was something oddly poetic about toying with the life force of the entire Plateau - too bad it was squandered in this silly game. Oh well, what he could do. Nothing was in his control at all.
So, he threw the ball.</font>
---
Bat aganist ball, pitcher aganist player, a high-velocity crack echoed across the arena as Phil made a rather impressive violation of astrophysics aganist the pitching sun. The reaction from the audience was ecstatic. Riffraff and rabblerousers screamed, cheered, and did all manners of hooting and noisemaking as Phil began to sprint towards first base.
"Hello and welcome back to Eternity Plateau First And Last Baseball Championships" Carl cheerfully announced with his anachronistic existing microphone. "Where every moment is like the end of the world as we know it!"
"Well, that's just great," the Elderly co-commentator groused.
"What? It's true. Anyway," Carl continued. "We are now at the Faraday's Constant Inning and the stakes are looking pretty high! Right now, the scores are an edgy three to two with the Plateau Eternals leading the Multiverse Outsiders!"
"Wait, wasn't this supposed to be Third Inning?" the Elder interrupted. "And the Outsiders are leading?"
"Well, the scoreboard says otherwise," Carl shrugged.
There was this look of astonishment splayed on the Elder's face as he checked the scores yet again. After about a few minutes, he just grumbled and sunk into his chair even further. He knew things were simply beyond how he could comprehend and he was simply too old for this shit.
Meanwhile, Carl simply ignored the Elder, for he had some commentary to do - sports commentary. "Right now Phil Girnham had just made a rather impressive serve and now gunning towards first base!"
<font color="#006600">The din only grew louder as Phil deftly tapped the first base while tripping the defending man the same. He managed to pirouette to the second base just before the first baseman spontaneously exploded and sent the mercenary on a wonderful trip to the sky - not unlike physics of certain video games.
"Looks like things has been going up for Mr. Girnham over there!" And the audience chuckled at this statement as though it was humorous.
Before Phil managed to reach terminal velocity, he caught on a majestic pegasus's mane and broke onto its back - and broke its back too from the impact. After doing several torturous (and show-offy) air-tumbles despite the scream of agony from the equine, the armored man shot his steed at point-blank and somehow landed on home plate with a grace of a ballerina. All this happened in a span of negative three seconds - nigh impossible for the opposing side to tap Girnham out.
"Wow, did you just see that?" The voice of the announcer was oddly dissonant with the gasps at the falling horse blood. "I didn't see it at all! Which is amazing because the Outsiders just got another point on their side! Now if the next player can serve as well, the Outsiders might have a chance for - "
Suddenly, an oddly colored thunderbolt struck all the players of the Multiversal Outsiders. Phil and Cole were oddly unscathed (and oddly confused too) by this sudden atmospheric phenomenon, but the same could not be the same for other members of the team. After all, they were completely gone.
"Huh, looks like they ran out of members," Carl observed the obvious, "Looks like it is time for the teams to switch!"
"But there is one more player left," the Elder pointed a wrinkly finger at Cole. "And he has not went on the field yet."
"Well, rules are rules," Carl shrugged. "Anyway. TEAM SWITCH!"
The Elder merely gave some utterances of indiscernible contempt. Rules? What rules? These nebulous judgements, these capricious aphorisms. How could you call them rules if they change so forlornly like the wind? His gnarled hands gripped the plastic railings of his chairs as his back slid further down the polyester cushion as he sank deep into his pessimistic thoughts.
Might as well be no rules at all.</font>
Balance frowned.
He was rather despondent at this state of things - granted every debacle of the Eternity Plateau was entirely his fault and every reminder of that (which is practically everything in this damned place) peevishly sends him down the spiral of depressing self-inflections - I am a terrible god I deserve no such role whiney mcwhine whine whine. As one can see, the topics of thought were suprisingly limited for an entity with a nigh-omnipotent mind.
Now he is on the stupid field with a stupid game and there was some stupid bug man across the field, glaring daggers at him. The Cole fellow's intentions for the bat was more focused on him than the ball. In fact, he was pretty sure Cole wanted to kill him and that. That was not a reassuring thought at all.
<font color="#006600">"Hey, won't you hurry up?"
Oh great, why did this "Carl" man decided thought placing Phil and Cole together was such a good idea. Oh you guys totally have a rivalry, the announcer smiled as he winked more than necessarily. We should totally place you on two different teams. It'll be great for television. How the fuck do they have television in this period of time. Oh right, Eternity broke. Or something like that. Balance did not even know anymore.
"HEY, Buttlance. YO!"
Balanced glowered at Phil. Phil the space marine. Phil the man with the bat. Phil the opponent who beated the shit out of him. It was no surprise that the god of equilibrium greatly disliked the man's cocky presence.
"Gonna start?" The mercenary called yet again.
At this stage, Balance's disdain for the surly man has transcended beyond benign neutrality. He could not explain what state of mind he was in, what emotion he was feeling but it was definitely not the usual nihilism he was used to as Balance had felt this intense desire to bean Phil into his bone-headed face. It was very much unlike what he is - or what he presented, but honestly - why should he care at this state of time?
Balance glowered at the ball in his palms. A lowly mortal who looked at this object would go blind - after all, it was the sun - the star, the ball of fusing hydrogen, the source of energy for this plane of existence. There was something oddly poetic about toying with the life force of the entire Plateau - too bad it was squandered in this silly game. Oh well, what he could do. Nothing was in his control at all.
So, he threw the ball.</font>
---
Bat aganist ball, pitcher aganist player, a high-velocity crack echoed across the arena as Phil made a rather impressive violation of astrophysics aganist the pitching sun. The reaction from the audience was ecstatic. Riffraff and rabblerousers screamed, cheered, and did all manners of hooting and noisemaking as Phil began to sprint towards first base.
"Hello and welcome back to Eternity Plateau First And Last Baseball Championships" Carl cheerfully announced with his anachronistic existing microphone. "Where every moment is like the end of the world as we know it!"
"Well, that's just great," the Elderly co-commentator groused.
"What? It's true. Anyway," Carl continued. "We are now at the Faraday's Constant Inning and the stakes are looking pretty high! Right now, the scores are an edgy three to two with the Plateau Eternals leading the Multiverse Outsiders!"
"Wait, wasn't this supposed to be Third Inning?" the Elder interrupted. "And the Outsiders are leading?"
"Well, the scoreboard says otherwise," Carl shrugged.
There was this look of astonishment splayed on the Elder's face as he checked the scores yet again. After about a few minutes, he just grumbled and sunk into his chair even further. He knew things were simply beyond how he could comprehend and he was simply too old for this shit.
Meanwhile, Carl simply ignored the Elder, for he had some commentary to do - sports commentary. "Right now Phil Girnham had just made a rather impressive serve and now gunning towards first base!"
<font color="#006600">The din only grew louder as Phil deftly tapped the first base while tripping the defending man the same. He managed to pirouette to the second base just before the first baseman spontaneously exploded and sent the mercenary on a wonderful trip to the sky - not unlike physics of certain video games.
"Looks like things has been going up for Mr. Girnham over there!" And the audience chuckled at this statement as though it was humorous.
Before Phil managed to reach terminal velocity, he caught on a majestic pegasus's mane and broke onto its back - and broke its back too from the impact. After doing several torturous (and show-offy) air-tumbles despite the scream of agony from the equine, the armored man shot his steed at point-blank and somehow landed on home plate with a grace of a ballerina. All this happened in a span of negative three seconds - nigh impossible for the opposing side to tap Girnham out.
"Wow, did you just see that?" The voice of the announcer was oddly dissonant with the gasps at the falling horse blood. "I didn't see it at all! Which is amazing because the Outsiders just got another point on their side! Now if the next player can serve as well, the Outsiders might have a chance for - "
Suddenly, an oddly colored thunderbolt struck all the players of the Multiversal Outsiders. Phil and Cole were oddly unscathed (and oddly confused too) by this sudden atmospheric phenomenon, but the same could not be the same for other members of the team. After all, they were completely gone.
"Huh, looks like they ran out of members," Carl observed the obvious, "Looks like it is time for the teams to switch!"
"But there is one more player left," the Elder pointed a wrinkly finger at Cole. "And he has not went on the field yet."
"Well, rules are rules," Carl shrugged. "Anyway. TEAM SWITCH!"
The Elder merely gave some utterances of indiscernible contempt. Rules? What rules? These nebulous judgements, these capricious aphorisms. How could you call them rules if they change so forlornly like the wind? His gnarled hands gripped the plastic railings of his chairs as his back slid further down the polyester cushion as he sank deep into his pessimistic thoughts.
Might as well be no rules at all.</font>