Re: The Spectacular Exhibition (S3G2) [Round 1: Parallels/Perpendicularities]
07-19-2011, 06:55 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.
Things had leapt from slow and quiet to wild and crazy with alarming speed. Nemaeus sat at the tail-end of these events (that is, in the retrospective present) shocked and badly bruised, holding on for dear life to a lobster in a mechanical suit.
“Fuck,” he moaned, then buried his face in the wolf pelt that he was gripping with his other hand. The knife was wedged in there somewhere too, and all in all this experience was exhausting, irritating and disorientating. He responded to this realisation by banging awkwardly on the side of Red with the hand not keeping him on top, and screaming hoarsely at the metal.
“Slow down! Get me off this! I bail, I want out, whatever the hell you want from me you can have it!”
Down at the rapidly shrinking other end of the hall rubble slid and bounced in the wake of the rising Sentinel. As such, Red's only response was to desperately shake the wolf man in an attempt to shut him up. It worked, although this may have been more to do with the aforementioned Sentinel than any brilliant negotiation on the lobster's part.
For a moment all thought of communication dropped away. Both of them were tensed, powerfully and immediately quietened by the consuming need to simply listen. In spite of this desire hearts still hammered and Red still scuttled and clanged with a fury, but they were mere whispers in comparison to the rumbling emergence of the Sentinel.
And then it stopped.
Nemaeus twisted around, his battered body immediately protesting to the odd and mildly taxing positioning.
“Hey.”
Red didn't respond.
“Hey, I think it's gone.”
Red slowed briefly, as if himself pausing to listen even more closely and make sure too, but fear or whatever fuelled his movement kicked in again and normal speed resumed.
“Hey! You've got to believe me Red, it's gone.”
“Of course. It just vanished.”
“So?”
“Not stopping.”
“You should,” Nemaeus added nonchalantly.
“Yah? Why?”
“Because God help me, Red, if you do not let me get off this thing I'm going to start stabbing this knife wherever it'll look good. And right now I'm thinking buried in your back would be just spiffing,” he noted in what could conceivably be called a good-natured fashion.
With an air of irritation Red swiftly acquiesced, slowing just enough to pick up Nemaeus and dump him on the ground without bruising him. Too much.
“Enjoy,” he snapped and attempted to leave. Unfortunately, the wolf man responded by wrapping a hand around one of his legs.
“No, seriously. Stop. The thing is gone.”
“Yah? And?” Red attempted to pull away, but the man kept his grip and slid pathetically along the floor after him. The lobster stopped again.
“It doesn't make sense to go running off into who knows where alone. Come on.”
“Sure.”
Sliiiiiiide.
“I'm sorry I threatened you, okay? I just – I just want to talk. For five minutes. With someone who isn't actively trying to attack me, which seems to be all that's happened to me since I di- since I arrived here.”
Red became still for a moment, considering. For a fraction of that time Nemaeus also stared and considered, but it didn't look quite as good seeing as he was staring at the back of his mech suit. Then he uncurled his hand from around Red's leg, stood up and dusted himself off.
“So...?”
Red scuttled around a little to look at Nemaeus.
“No.”
And then he was off again.
The wolf man, however, was quick on the draw and sprinted after him with the desperation of a man trapped in limbo. Being an assassin had taught him a few things, and chief among them was how to run. It was what he was good at.
His start was shaky, but a few seconds later he was fast approaching Red again.
“Hey! One question! That's it!”
Almost instantly Red snapped around and grabbed the troublesome Nemaeus with a telescopic arm. Lurching to a halt, the lobster held the man a little distance away from him.
“What?” He snarled. “What is it?”
Nemaeus blinked. His mind scrambled to catch up with the sudden change of pace, and his mouth opened in an attempt to placate the creature in the meantime.
“Um.” The attempt could not be said to be successful.
“What is it? Your question?”
He swallowed, and collected himself.
“What happened to you before... before you came here? What do you remember last?”
A pause.
“I had finished the... modifications. Everything was ready. For weeks, months, I had worked on this suit, these mechanisms, beneath the surface of the sea. I rose up, stood on the sand. I looked at the sky. Then - then I was gone.”
Red dropped Nemaeus.
“That is your answer. Now leave me alone.”
Things had leapt from slow and quiet to wild and crazy with alarming speed. Nemaeus sat at the tail-end of these events (that is, in the retrospective present) shocked and badly bruised, holding on for dear life to a lobster in a mechanical suit.
“Fuck,” he moaned, then buried his face in the wolf pelt that he was gripping with his other hand. The knife was wedged in there somewhere too, and all in all this experience was exhausting, irritating and disorientating. He responded to this realisation by banging awkwardly on the side of Red with the hand not keeping him on top, and screaming hoarsely at the metal.
“Slow down! Get me off this! I bail, I want out, whatever the hell you want from me you can have it!”
Down at the rapidly shrinking other end of the hall rubble slid and bounced in the wake of the rising Sentinel. As such, Red's only response was to desperately shake the wolf man in an attempt to shut him up. It worked, although this may have been more to do with the aforementioned Sentinel than any brilliant negotiation on the lobster's part.
For a moment all thought of communication dropped away. Both of them were tensed, powerfully and immediately quietened by the consuming need to simply listen. In spite of this desire hearts still hammered and Red still scuttled and clanged with a fury, but they were mere whispers in comparison to the rumbling emergence of the Sentinel.
And then it stopped.
Nemaeus twisted around, his battered body immediately protesting to the odd and mildly taxing positioning.
“Hey.”
Red didn't respond.
“Hey, I think it's gone.”
Red slowed briefly, as if himself pausing to listen even more closely and make sure too, but fear or whatever fuelled his movement kicked in again and normal speed resumed.
“Hey! You've got to believe me Red, it's gone.”
“Of course. It just vanished.”
“So?”
“Not stopping.”
“You should,” Nemaeus added nonchalantly.
“Yah? Why?”
“Because God help me, Red, if you do not let me get off this thing I'm going to start stabbing this knife wherever it'll look good. And right now I'm thinking buried in your back would be just spiffing,” he noted in what could conceivably be called a good-natured fashion.
With an air of irritation Red swiftly acquiesced, slowing just enough to pick up Nemaeus and dump him on the ground without bruising him. Too much.
“Enjoy,” he snapped and attempted to leave. Unfortunately, the wolf man responded by wrapping a hand around one of his legs.
“No, seriously. Stop. The thing is gone.”
“Yah? And?” Red attempted to pull away, but the man kept his grip and slid pathetically along the floor after him. The lobster stopped again.
“It doesn't make sense to go running off into who knows where alone. Come on.”
“Sure.”
Sliiiiiiide.
“I'm sorry I threatened you, okay? I just – I just want to talk. For five minutes. With someone who isn't actively trying to attack me, which seems to be all that's happened to me since I di- since I arrived here.”
Red became still for a moment, considering. For a fraction of that time Nemaeus also stared and considered, but it didn't look quite as good seeing as he was staring at the back of his mech suit. Then he uncurled his hand from around Red's leg, stood up and dusted himself off.
“So...?”
Red scuttled around a little to look at Nemaeus.
“No.”
And then he was off again.
The wolf man, however, was quick on the draw and sprinted after him with the desperation of a man trapped in limbo. Being an assassin had taught him a few things, and chief among them was how to run. It was what he was good at.
His start was shaky, but a few seconds later he was fast approaching Red again.
“Hey! One question! That's it!”
Almost instantly Red snapped around and grabbed the troublesome Nemaeus with a telescopic arm. Lurching to a halt, the lobster held the man a little distance away from him.
“What?” He snarled. “What is it?”
Nemaeus blinked. His mind scrambled to catch up with the sudden change of pace, and his mouth opened in an attempt to placate the creature in the meantime.
“Um.” The attempt could not be said to be successful.
“What is it? Your question?”
He swallowed, and collected himself.
“What happened to you before... before you came here? What do you remember last?”
A pause.
“I had finished the... modifications. Everything was ready. For weeks, months, I had worked on this suit, these mechanisms, beneath the surface of the sea. I rose up, stood on the sand. I looked at the sky. Then - then I was gone.”
Red dropped Nemaeus.
“That is your answer. Now leave me alone.”