Re: Pitched Combat [Round 3: Overtime]
02-13-2010, 05:49 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.
Clumsily, the Manikin (lower part) fumbled up the stairs. Much of it's mass had grown unresponsive, dead. The manikin had no time to waste re-eating it's former parts, so it immediately shed the dragons' form, leaving behind a hollow shell, and streamlining itself back into a manikin (with eyes). It quickly turned back around, looking down the hallway from the top of the first stairs. The dragons were there, and they began a quick approach.
Through this quick encounter, the manikin had learned something important: That it was not very powerful at all. Even imitating form was not enough. Clearly, The manikin needed more- it needed to take the dragons' intelligence, their internal systems. But how would it do it? The dragons had easily beat it down. What could the manikin use to surpass the dragons?
Then, the manikin remembered that it was split. It attempted to commune with it's rabbit self again. Now that it's halves had grown strong enough, The manikin could feel itself communicating...with it's other self. The manikin quickly relayed information between itself, and came up with a crude plan. It would attempt a pincer attack.
The rabbit skidded to a stop and shot back the direction it came, silently. At this point, the halves ceased communication, devoting their thoughts to themselves. Scatterbrained as the manikin(s) were, they needed every thought they could have. The rabbit here, for instance, began thinking about what it would do when it reached the dragon. It wasn't doing a very good job of it, although to be fair attacking a dragon as a rabbit was fairly difficult and limiting in options.
On the other end, the manikin stood it's ground. Well, it did for a moment. Then, fear pervaded it's great determination and it decided that continuing to fight the dragon would probably end poorly, even though it did not understand what death was. Still, it's desire to eat the dragons was great, and it didn't quite like the idea of quitting the pincer attack, thereby breaking a deal with itself (rabbit).
Compromise! Compromise was the Manikin's solution. The manikin concentrated it's life again, this time to it's abdominal area. Then, it's upper body fell off, and it's legs continued to run away, exiting the stairwell. On the way, it grew another set of eyes on it's crotch area, aware of the practicality but not the innuendo.
The upper body, groggy from the sudden change, immediately was annoyed at itself. Being a torso was extremely annoying, and difficult to maneuver. But, an instant later, it regained some clarity of thought, and remembered that it had access to different forms. The body pulsated, shifted and finally settled on the form of a giant stag beetle. The Dragons were close now, it guessed, so it would need to act quickly. It recalled everything the beetle had stored in it's meager brain, all of the reflexes and instructions required to use the body. It was all extremely fascinating to feel all of that for the first time, but it didn't waste time dawdling. clumsily, it flew to the ceiling, and clung, waiting. It saw the dragons- they were close now, and had ascended a flight of stairs. It tensed itself to strike. But where would it strike? Instinctively, it decided on the body, where the dragon heads met, because it already had a bad experience with attacking and being attacked by the heads.
Clumsily, the Manikin (lower part) fumbled up the stairs. Much of it's mass had grown unresponsive, dead. The manikin had no time to waste re-eating it's former parts, so it immediately shed the dragons' form, leaving behind a hollow shell, and streamlining itself back into a manikin (with eyes). It quickly turned back around, looking down the hallway from the top of the first stairs. The dragons were there, and they began a quick approach.
Through this quick encounter, the manikin had learned something important: That it was not very powerful at all. Even imitating form was not enough. Clearly, The manikin needed more- it needed to take the dragons' intelligence, their internal systems. But how would it do it? The dragons had easily beat it down. What could the manikin use to surpass the dragons?
Then, the manikin remembered that it was split. It attempted to commune with it's rabbit self again. Now that it's halves had grown strong enough, The manikin could feel itself communicating...with it's other self. The manikin quickly relayed information between itself, and came up with a crude plan. It would attempt a pincer attack.
The rabbit skidded to a stop and shot back the direction it came, silently. At this point, the halves ceased communication, devoting their thoughts to themselves. Scatterbrained as the manikin(s) were, they needed every thought they could have. The rabbit here, for instance, began thinking about what it would do when it reached the dragon. It wasn't doing a very good job of it, although to be fair attacking a dragon as a rabbit was fairly difficult and limiting in options.
On the other end, the manikin stood it's ground. Well, it did for a moment. Then, fear pervaded it's great determination and it decided that continuing to fight the dragon would probably end poorly, even though it did not understand what death was. Still, it's desire to eat the dragons was great, and it didn't quite like the idea of quitting the pincer attack, thereby breaking a deal with itself (rabbit).
Compromise! Compromise was the Manikin's solution. The manikin concentrated it's life again, this time to it's abdominal area. Then, it's upper body fell off, and it's legs continued to run away, exiting the stairwell. On the way, it grew another set of eyes on it's crotch area, aware of the practicality but not the innuendo.
The upper body, groggy from the sudden change, immediately was annoyed at itself. Being a torso was extremely annoying, and difficult to maneuver. But, an instant later, it regained some clarity of thought, and remembered that it had access to different forms. The body pulsated, shifted and finally settled on the form of a giant stag beetle. The Dragons were close now, it guessed, so it would need to act quickly. It recalled everything the beetle had stored in it's meager brain, all of the reflexes and instructions required to use the body. It was all extremely fascinating to feel all of that for the first time, but it didn't waste time dawdling. clumsily, it flew to the ceiling, and clung, waiting. It saw the dragons- they were close now, and had ascended a flight of stairs. It tensed itself to strike. But where would it strike? Instinctively, it decided on the body, where the dragon heads met, because it already had a bad experience with attacking and being attacked by the heads.