Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round One: Genreshift
06-13-2011, 11:47 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Abys stalked through the gardens run wild that bordered the castle; the main laboratory which the Scientiflics operated out of. It had at one point resembled a regular castle, owned by that fantasy gang that got themselves killed Abys believed. Now it had had improvements upon improvements. The most noticeable thing about the castle was that half of the brickwork had been removed, replaced with sturdy reinforced metals, the windows had been barred and the roof was littered with antennas, satellites and one very prominent retractable lightning rod, which was not up at the moment. Abys knew from experience that the roof was also crowded with generators, pumping power into the laboratories below, though they were not visible from the ground. It was an imposing sight; a mess of spires and jutting metal that gave the impression of being designed by a not quite sane mind. That the clouds above the city were dark and roiling angrily did not help the laboratory-castle look any less menacing. From her vantage point amongst a tangle of weeds and overgrown plants she could see a group of guards patrolling the premises. With a thought Abys activated her camouflage implants, anyone who had been watching her would have said that she appeared to crumble away starting at her left shoulder and then spreading throughout her body until there was nothing left, the process taking no longer than a second. Almost silently she stalked across the gravel path towards one of the walls that was more brickwork than sharp metal. The doors would be guarded, if not through some of that weird science that Matic loved then by one of the abominations against nature this lab churned out so regularly. The best way in was through the roof, it usually was. Abys raised her left arm almost vertically, closing her right eye and sighting along it. After a couple of seconds of aiming, a miniature grapping hook shot out of her cybernetic arm, latching onto an outcrop of metal and with another thought it retracted, pulling her to the roof.
Abys wasn’t really what you would call socially gifted, most of the Punks avoided conversation with her simply on principle. She had that nickname for a reason, the reason being that talking to her was like ‘staring into the abyss’ and that no matter how much time and effort you put into trying to communicate with her the most you could expect to get back as a blank stare or a cursory nod. But this, this was where she came alive. A silly grin invisibly grew across her face as she ascended the side of the building. Sneaking around, gadgets, technology, this was her passion. This was what she loved; this was what she was good at. She climbed onto the roof, checking the area for guards, or any of Matic’s freaky monsters. There were a couple of guards picking their way through the bewildering maze of technology. Abys darted from generator to generator; able to go a little faster now the sounds of her movement were masked by the continual humming of the machinery. She watched carefully assessing the guards routes and then as one neared her she vaulted clean over the machine, and came down atop the guard, her robotic hand clamped over his mouth, her other arm around the man’s neck. Flat against the floor the guard struggled to shove his invisible attacker away, or to attract attention to himself, but his feeble bangs and knocks went unheeded and Abys was on her feet again, dashing through the machinery. She brought down the next guard before he even had chance to notice that the other was gone. As she choked the life out of the struggling guard she smiled blissfully and wondered why all of life couldn’t be this simple. Finished with these two she made her way to the stairwell that would lead down into the castle proper. She paused at the doorway as she felt water in the air, turned and looked up into the sky. There was going to be one hell of a storm very soon.
Phere dashed into Tek’s room. It contained the obligatory computer screens that were everywhere in the Punks’ hideout, but also piles of unfinished machines in various states of assembly. Phere guessed, correctly as it turned out, that some of the older machines were only kept around to provide spare parts for whatever contraption he was currently working on. This being his own personal room somewhere in the back tucked away under all the unfinished devices there was a bed, though she guessed from the bags under his eyes (one real one cybernetic) that he did not sleep often and if he didn’t have to he probably wouldn’t at all. He was sat at one of the many desks in the room working on a gadget, the purpose of which Phere could not and did not care to fathom, one of his hands replaced with some kind of mechanized tool. A shelf of similar attachments, and an artificial hand on the table next to him told Phere that this was common practice. Tek turned his head silently to examine his new leader as she held up the radio he had so patiently explained to her not a quarter of an hour ago. Secretly he doubted Empress Phere was all that technically-minded and wondered whether perhaps she was fit to run the Punks at all. She’d probably turned the radio off and needed a consult on how to turn it back on again.
“I just received a communication on this device, from a being who, I am pretty certain, is from another world.” Phere explained. “When I tried to respond all I got was a sort of screeching noise.” Tek’s only response to this was the casual raising of a questioning eyebrow as he thought.
“Interesting.” He replied after a moment. “What you are saying is absurd of course but I trust that you would not seek to bother me with imagined problems when we have an ample selection of quite real ones to deal with.” He paused thoughtfully. “If what you are saying is true then it is no wonder that you were unable to reply. This machine does not have the capability.” Promptly another message crackled across the speakers.
“If you are hearing this, then you, too, are a victim of the whims of an enigmatic master, whom has forced you into a battle to the death with many other strange beings…” Phere observed the messenger; one Vandrel Reinhardt. He was facing a writhing monstrosity, a humanoid shape made of insects. They were in an area that reminded Phere of a dock, though more technologically advanced. Around them large vehicles moving through the air itself took off rapidly abandoning wherever it was that they were. They were engaged in conversation; the one that had identified as Vandrel upon the message lecturing the bug monster about how he had made an impact upon the world he was in and taught them the supremacy of humans; quite a difference from the good-hearted message that she had just listened to. Suddenly without warning the creature stabbed Vandrel in the heart with it’s own claw.
“Well that line of enquiry seems to be a dead end.” Phere said offhandedly. “Mr. Reinhardt has just been killed.” She added for the benefit of the man who could not see into other universes, though Tek was hardly interested in her analysis of the situation. His focus was upon the radio itself. The data that he was getting from the device making the premise that it was coming from another world pretty incontrovertible.
“I have no idea what I am looking at.” Tek said, his voice rising in bewilderment and alarm. “This is beyond me.” Another voice crackled over the radio, this one a little closer to home.
“Abys to Home Base.” Abys whispered. Phere quickly changed her view to that of her infiltrator. She could see an empty old brick corridor filled along one side with interesting but ultimately pointless scientiflic paraphernalia, while in contrast a burning torch hung it’s original brackets on the other side of the corridor. Her hollow refocused and the shape of the sneaking cyborg became visible to her.
“I’m here.” Phere replied curtly, watching Tek as he busily produced another radio from a box across the room and attempted to tune it to the frequency that Reinhardt’s message had come from.
“I’m inside the castle.” Abys said. “On the top-”
“Top floor yes I know.” Phere replied, “I’ve got you covered.” She began to relay directions through the twisting chambers of the laboratory/castle watching Abys’ progress with one eye and watching Tek’s bewilderment with the other.
Abys followed the instructions, moving quickly from abandoned corridors like the one she had been in to those that clearly resembled the laboratory that this place was; sterile white tiles and long windows into rooms filled with awful genetic aberrations. She had had to go barefoot, the clacking of her shoes against the tiled floor too loud to be ignored. She greatly appreciated Phere’s advice, this was the kind of tactical support that an assassin could only dream of; clear and precise information about where to go, any upcoming threats that were approaching her. She was making excellent progress until Phere suddenly said that something had come up and left her unassisted. After a moment of trepidation, finding herself this deep in the Scentiflics laboratories without some kind of guide, Abys reasoned that she had been doing this for years without the aid of an all-seeing eye and she was not about to start needing one now.
Tek had managed to attune the radio to the correct frequency and the messages had started pouring in, each one a new viewpoint and a new world to look out upon. It seemed from the content within the messages that there were many of these battles like the one Phere found herself in running throughout the multiverse. She felt adrift in the sea of information that was pouring in from every person she observed, there was one thing that she knew for sure; like she had seized control of these Punks upon arrival she wanted to seize control of these people, of this 'Network'.
“What do you need me to do in order that you can communicate with these people?” Phere demanded. Tek paused, scratching at his stubble as he contemplated.
“There is perhaps one thing that we could do…” He said. “But we would need the Stolen Tome.” Phere clicked the radio back on.
“Abys.” She said. “Bring the tome back to us. I have a use for it now.”
Abys stalked through the gardens run wild that bordered the castle; the main laboratory which the Scientiflics operated out of. It had at one point resembled a regular castle, owned by that fantasy gang that got themselves killed Abys believed. Now it had had improvements upon improvements. The most noticeable thing about the castle was that half of the brickwork had been removed, replaced with sturdy reinforced metals, the windows had been barred and the roof was littered with antennas, satellites and one very prominent retractable lightning rod, which was not up at the moment. Abys knew from experience that the roof was also crowded with generators, pumping power into the laboratories below, though they were not visible from the ground. It was an imposing sight; a mess of spires and jutting metal that gave the impression of being designed by a not quite sane mind. That the clouds above the city were dark and roiling angrily did not help the laboratory-castle look any less menacing. From her vantage point amongst a tangle of weeds and overgrown plants she could see a group of guards patrolling the premises. With a thought Abys activated her camouflage implants, anyone who had been watching her would have said that she appeared to crumble away starting at her left shoulder and then spreading throughout her body until there was nothing left, the process taking no longer than a second. Almost silently she stalked across the gravel path towards one of the walls that was more brickwork than sharp metal. The doors would be guarded, if not through some of that weird science that Matic loved then by one of the abominations against nature this lab churned out so regularly. The best way in was through the roof, it usually was. Abys raised her left arm almost vertically, closing her right eye and sighting along it. After a couple of seconds of aiming, a miniature grapping hook shot out of her cybernetic arm, latching onto an outcrop of metal and with another thought it retracted, pulling her to the roof.
Abys wasn’t really what you would call socially gifted, most of the Punks avoided conversation with her simply on principle. She had that nickname for a reason, the reason being that talking to her was like ‘staring into the abyss’ and that no matter how much time and effort you put into trying to communicate with her the most you could expect to get back as a blank stare or a cursory nod. But this, this was where she came alive. A silly grin invisibly grew across her face as she ascended the side of the building. Sneaking around, gadgets, technology, this was her passion. This was what she loved; this was what she was good at. She climbed onto the roof, checking the area for guards, or any of Matic’s freaky monsters. There were a couple of guards picking their way through the bewildering maze of technology. Abys darted from generator to generator; able to go a little faster now the sounds of her movement were masked by the continual humming of the machinery. She watched carefully assessing the guards routes and then as one neared her she vaulted clean over the machine, and came down atop the guard, her robotic hand clamped over his mouth, her other arm around the man’s neck. Flat against the floor the guard struggled to shove his invisible attacker away, or to attract attention to himself, but his feeble bangs and knocks went unheeded and Abys was on her feet again, dashing through the machinery. She brought down the next guard before he even had chance to notice that the other was gone. As she choked the life out of the struggling guard she smiled blissfully and wondered why all of life couldn’t be this simple. Finished with these two she made her way to the stairwell that would lead down into the castle proper. She paused at the doorway as she felt water in the air, turned and looked up into the sky. There was going to be one hell of a storm very soon.
Phere dashed into Tek’s room. It contained the obligatory computer screens that were everywhere in the Punks’ hideout, but also piles of unfinished machines in various states of assembly. Phere guessed, correctly as it turned out, that some of the older machines were only kept around to provide spare parts for whatever contraption he was currently working on. This being his own personal room somewhere in the back tucked away under all the unfinished devices there was a bed, though she guessed from the bags under his eyes (one real one cybernetic) that he did not sleep often and if he didn’t have to he probably wouldn’t at all. He was sat at one of the many desks in the room working on a gadget, the purpose of which Phere could not and did not care to fathom, one of his hands replaced with some kind of mechanized tool. A shelf of similar attachments, and an artificial hand on the table next to him told Phere that this was common practice. Tek turned his head silently to examine his new leader as she held up the radio he had so patiently explained to her not a quarter of an hour ago. Secretly he doubted Empress Phere was all that technically-minded and wondered whether perhaps she was fit to run the Punks at all. She’d probably turned the radio off and needed a consult on how to turn it back on again.
“I just received a communication on this device, from a being who, I am pretty certain, is from another world.” Phere explained. “When I tried to respond all I got was a sort of screeching noise.” Tek’s only response to this was the casual raising of a questioning eyebrow as he thought.
“Interesting.” He replied after a moment. “What you are saying is absurd of course but I trust that you would not seek to bother me with imagined problems when we have an ample selection of quite real ones to deal with.” He paused thoughtfully. “If what you are saying is true then it is no wonder that you were unable to reply. This machine does not have the capability.” Promptly another message crackled across the speakers.
“If you are hearing this, then you, too, are a victim of the whims of an enigmatic master, whom has forced you into a battle to the death with many other strange beings…” Phere observed the messenger; one Vandrel Reinhardt. He was facing a writhing monstrosity, a humanoid shape made of insects. They were in an area that reminded Phere of a dock, though more technologically advanced. Around them large vehicles moving through the air itself took off rapidly abandoning wherever it was that they were. They were engaged in conversation; the one that had identified as Vandrel upon the message lecturing the bug monster about how he had made an impact upon the world he was in and taught them the supremacy of humans; quite a difference from the good-hearted message that she had just listened to. Suddenly without warning the creature stabbed Vandrel in the heart with it’s own claw.
“Well that line of enquiry seems to be a dead end.” Phere said offhandedly. “Mr. Reinhardt has just been killed.” She added for the benefit of the man who could not see into other universes, though Tek was hardly interested in her analysis of the situation. His focus was upon the radio itself. The data that he was getting from the device making the premise that it was coming from another world pretty incontrovertible.
“I have no idea what I am looking at.” Tek said, his voice rising in bewilderment and alarm. “This is beyond me.” Another voice crackled over the radio, this one a little closer to home.
“Abys to Home Base.” Abys whispered. Phere quickly changed her view to that of her infiltrator. She could see an empty old brick corridor filled along one side with interesting but ultimately pointless scientiflic paraphernalia, while in contrast a burning torch hung it’s original brackets on the other side of the corridor. Her hollow refocused and the shape of the sneaking cyborg became visible to her.
“I’m here.” Phere replied curtly, watching Tek as he busily produced another radio from a box across the room and attempted to tune it to the frequency that Reinhardt’s message had come from.
“I’m inside the castle.” Abys said. “On the top-”
“Top floor yes I know.” Phere replied, “I’ve got you covered.” She began to relay directions through the twisting chambers of the laboratory/castle watching Abys’ progress with one eye and watching Tek’s bewilderment with the other.
Abys followed the instructions, moving quickly from abandoned corridors like the one she had been in to those that clearly resembled the laboratory that this place was; sterile white tiles and long windows into rooms filled with awful genetic aberrations. She had had to go barefoot, the clacking of her shoes against the tiled floor too loud to be ignored. She greatly appreciated Phere’s advice, this was the kind of tactical support that an assassin could only dream of; clear and precise information about where to go, any upcoming threats that were approaching her. She was making excellent progress until Phere suddenly said that something had come up and left her unassisted. After a moment of trepidation, finding herself this deep in the Scentiflics laboratories without some kind of guide, Abys reasoned that she had been doing this for years without the aid of an all-seeing eye and she was not about to start needing one now.
Tek had managed to attune the radio to the correct frequency and the messages had started pouring in, each one a new viewpoint and a new world to look out upon. It seemed from the content within the messages that there were many of these battles like the one Phere found herself in running throughout the multiverse. She felt adrift in the sea of information that was pouring in from every person she observed, there was one thing that she knew for sure; like she had seized control of these Punks upon arrival she wanted to seize control of these people, of this 'Network'.
“What do you need me to do in order that you can communicate with these people?” Phere demanded. Tek paused, scratching at his stubble as he contemplated.
“There is perhaps one thing that we could do…” He said. “But we would need the Stolen Tome.” Phere clicked the radio back on.
“Abys.” She said. “Bring the tome back to us. I have a use for it now.”
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You