Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round Two: BJ
12-02-2011, 04:59 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Her palace was built from marble. One would have expected that an empress would have vibrant rugs brought from distant lands, ornate tapestries festooned across every wall and perfectly sculpted statues arranged throughout her chambers. Her chambers were almost empty. A broken mirror here, a simple chair and table there, a bed and other basic necessities and that was it. If you had not known you would have assumed some very audacious thieves had just cleared the place out. It was still, the full length windows that overlooked the city of Glaive shut closed and curtains perpetually drawn.
A knock disturbed the scene, then silence and a further knock. The doors creaked open and a nervous face peered into the room. The messenger was not sure what to do, any time he had delivered a message to the Empress before she had been waiting for him, door open, a self-satisfied smirk upon her face. Without daring to set a foot inside her chambers proper he glanced around, as though hoping Phere was hiding and she would momentarily reveal herself declaring it to be the prank of the century. He was waiting for the penny to drop, waiting for this situation to make sense. When she was nowhere to be found he wondered perhaps if he had been misinformed. He removed his head from the doorway and asked the on duty guards if they knew where the Empress was.
Within moments they were inside, searching every inch of the Empress’ chambers. After a thorough search they discovered that Phere was nowhere to be found, though to be honest they could tell that after even just a quick glance through her rooms, and there did not seem to be any signs of a struggle. A couple of minutes later the messenger, whose message was now unimportant was making his way out of the city, an urgent message to deliver. Phere saw none of this. At the start of the previous round she had been keen to find out what was happening in the Shining Kingdom in her absence, now she was more concerned about the state of the battle following The Spectator’s disappearance.
Phere’s attention was elsewhere. It was everywhere and nowhere at once. For one cacophonous moment Phere felt as though she could see everything. For one second, maybe less, she saw endless tracts of blackness; a bleak abyss that seemed to pull at her soul, a swirl of motes playing in early morning sunlight, a world held in the palm of a hand, the crumbling ruins of genre city and simultaneously the thriving genreless city it had become, the submerged ruins of an ancient civilization and an awful dark prescence that sent shivers down Phere’s spine. A structure that could not exist; a tower that caved in upon itself and rewrote the laws of physics with a sadistic grin. The sight of such a non-Euclidean nightmare made her eyes feel like they were being ripped out of her head. A pitch shape, almost like that of a man, it might have noticed her presence perhaps. And speaking of eyes, there were eyes and eyes and so many eyes. A tower made of eyes and stone and sacrifices made a long time ago, and under the blistering glare of them all a man, his posture stooped, but his expression carefully unreadable. It was more than just a glimpse here. At some point she must have started screaming. She saw battles that had already been fought and won, she saw things that might have been but never were, she saw things that were to come, and yes, she saw eyes, so many eyes.
It was only a moment but it felt much longer from the inside. She could have been gone for years, lost in that awful mind rending moment. Standing in front of her, a thing. A dull grey shape. She could not identify it. Phere narrowed her non-hollow eye; it looked like lkqjb bcwop nqwknkq oejans s js wjj hsirhs si sjfplns wk.
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“Empress.” The voice was familiar. She’d heard it before, and recently. It’s tone was perhaps more humble than it had been at that point in time. Phere opened her eyes and was relieved to only see that which was in front of her. She was on the floor staring up at the canvas roof of the tent. Slowly she sat up and took in the sight that greeted her. The man with four arms in the accountant grey suit who had just brought them to this round was standing there apropos of nothing, as though this kind of thing was normal. In front of him, was the shamaness Vala. The look of confusion upon her face told Phere that she had not foreseen this turn of events, whatever this turn of events would turn out to be. “Thank you shamaness.” The grey suited man said. “You may leave us now; we have important business to discuss.” Vala glanced between the pair for a second.
“Leave us Vala.” Phere said. “I will be with you soon enough.” Vala reluctantly left the tent. There was for a long moment silence. Phere climbed to her feet and sized up the man who stood before her. She supposed he could be here to reprimand her, but she had already been warned once. If he was here to punish her for it, he needn’t have asked Vala to wake her up. There was only one other reason Phere could think of why he would be here.
“So, what do I call you?” she asked, breaking the long silence.
“Crowe.” he said. “There have been unforeseen consequences of something that happened a long way from here, and, well I don’t want to get bogged down in the details, but suffice it to say The Spectator is missing.”
“And you believe I can find her for you.” Phere replied. It was not a question; it was a statement of fact.
“I believe so, yes.” Crowe said. “This is kind of an issue, so I would appreciate it if you would find her, and tell me where she is.”
“What is in it for me?” Phere asked, a grin forming upon her face. Crowe’s expression, what little of it was visible was for a moment visibly surprised. There was a long pause, and finally.
“You are her favourite.” Crowe suggested. Phere laughed.
“That is all you have?” she asked. “If I find The Spectator for you, you and I are allies. Partners if you will. You help me win this battle.” An even longer pause. The expression on Crowe’s face; unreadable.
“Fine.” Crowe replied measuredly. "Where is she?" Phere looked thoughtful for a moment.
"All in good time, Crowe." she said. "For now you can see yourself back to her tower. I have business to deal with in the current round. We will talk again later." And with that she turned, pushed open the flaps of the tent and stepped outside.
Her palace was built from marble. One would have expected that an empress would have vibrant rugs brought from distant lands, ornate tapestries festooned across every wall and perfectly sculpted statues arranged throughout her chambers. Her chambers were almost empty. A broken mirror here, a simple chair and table there, a bed and other basic necessities and that was it. If you had not known you would have assumed some very audacious thieves had just cleared the place out. It was still, the full length windows that overlooked the city of Glaive shut closed and curtains perpetually drawn.
A knock disturbed the scene, then silence and a further knock. The doors creaked open and a nervous face peered into the room. The messenger was not sure what to do, any time he had delivered a message to the Empress before she had been waiting for him, door open, a self-satisfied smirk upon her face. Without daring to set a foot inside her chambers proper he glanced around, as though hoping Phere was hiding and she would momentarily reveal herself declaring it to be the prank of the century. He was waiting for the penny to drop, waiting for this situation to make sense. When she was nowhere to be found he wondered perhaps if he had been misinformed. He removed his head from the doorway and asked the on duty guards if they knew where the Empress was.
Within moments they were inside, searching every inch of the Empress’ chambers. After a thorough search they discovered that Phere was nowhere to be found, though to be honest they could tell that after even just a quick glance through her rooms, and there did not seem to be any signs of a struggle. A couple of minutes later the messenger, whose message was now unimportant was making his way out of the city, an urgent message to deliver. Phere saw none of this. At the start of the previous round she had been keen to find out what was happening in the Shining Kingdom in her absence, now she was more concerned about the state of the battle following The Spectator’s disappearance.
Phere’s attention was elsewhere. It was everywhere and nowhere at once. For one cacophonous moment Phere felt as though she could see everything. For one second, maybe less, she saw endless tracts of blackness; a bleak abyss that seemed to pull at her soul, a swirl of motes playing in early morning sunlight, a world held in the palm of a hand, the crumbling ruins of genre city and simultaneously the thriving genreless city it had become, the submerged ruins of an ancient civilization and an awful dark prescence that sent shivers down Phere’s spine. A structure that could not exist; a tower that caved in upon itself and rewrote the laws of physics with a sadistic grin. The sight of such a non-Euclidean nightmare made her eyes feel like they were being ripped out of her head. A pitch shape, almost like that of a man, it might have noticed her presence perhaps. And speaking of eyes, there were eyes and eyes and so many eyes. A tower made of eyes and stone and sacrifices made a long time ago, and under the blistering glare of them all a man, his posture stooped, but his expression carefully unreadable. It was more than just a glimpse here. At some point she must have started screaming. She saw battles that had already been fought and won, she saw things that might have been but never were, she saw things that were to come, and yes, she saw eyes, so many eyes.
It was only a moment but it felt much longer from the inside. She could have been gone for years, lost in that awful mind rending moment. Standing in front of her, a thing. A dull grey shape. She could not identify it. Phere narrowed her non-hollow eye; it looked like lkqjb bcwop nqwknkq oejans s js wjj hsirhs si sjfplns wk.
--------
“Empress.” The voice was familiar. She’d heard it before, and recently. It’s tone was perhaps more humble than it had been at that point in time. Phere opened her eyes and was relieved to only see that which was in front of her. She was on the floor staring up at the canvas roof of the tent. Slowly she sat up and took in the sight that greeted her. The man with four arms in the accountant grey suit who had just brought them to this round was standing there apropos of nothing, as though this kind of thing was normal. In front of him, was the shamaness Vala. The look of confusion upon her face told Phere that she had not foreseen this turn of events, whatever this turn of events would turn out to be. “Thank you shamaness.” The grey suited man said. “You may leave us now; we have important business to discuss.” Vala glanced between the pair for a second.
“Leave us Vala.” Phere said. “I will be with you soon enough.” Vala reluctantly left the tent. There was for a long moment silence. Phere climbed to her feet and sized up the man who stood before her. She supposed he could be here to reprimand her, but she had already been warned once. If he was here to punish her for it, he needn’t have asked Vala to wake her up. There was only one other reason Phere could think of why he would be here.
“So, what do I call you?” she asked, breaking the long silence.
“Crowe.” he said. “There have been unforeseen consequences of something that happened a long way from here, and, well I don’t want to get bogged down in the details, but suffice it to say The Spectator is missing.”
“And you believe I can find her for you.” Phere replied. It was not a question; it was a statement of fact.
“I believe so, yes.” Crowe said. “This is kind of an issue, so I would appreciate it if you would find her, and tell me where she is.”
“What is in it for me?” Phere asked, a grin forming upon her face. Crowe’s expression, what little of it was visible was for a moment visibly surprised. There was a long pause, and finally.
“You are her favourite.” Crowe suggested. Phere laughed.
“That is all you have?” she asked. “If I find The Spectator for you, you and I are allies. Partners if you will. You help me win this battle.” An even longer pause. The expression on Crowe’s face; unreadable.
“Fine.” Crowe replied measuredly. "Where is she?" Phere looked thoughtful for a moment.
"All in good time, Crowe." she said. "For now you can see yourself back to her tower. I have business to deal with in the current round. We will talk again later." And with that she turned, pushed open the flaps of the tent and stepped outside.
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