Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round Two: BJ
03-21-2012, 06:31 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Godbot.
… OR MAYBE NOT???
Just as Nalyg opened his mouth to greet the small party of contestants, Sir Cedric came plowing through the crowd like a meteor out of Space Hell.
“PUNCH,” he bellowed, tapping into the reserves of sound-based magic that surrounded the city of Santa Nada as he leaped into the air and decked Razaran in the face so hard that Nalyg and Kanpeki were both struck by the same blow. They stumbled sideways, managed to get their legs tangled up, and collapsed in a dazed heap, cracking cobblestones under their weight. Cedric roared, hauled all nine feet of Nalzaki off of the ground, and hurled him/him/her, smashing the entire clanking, unwieldy mass of limbs, metal plates and legendary musical instruments into the nearest building.
Cascala, Dr. Harmon and some sort of awful little shadow thing drew back into their latest alley and watched in shocked horror as Cedric somehow managed to get Kanpeki in a headlock and punched her in the face while she wailed about how oh god, why was it always her. This made Razaran absolutely furious, but there were several feet of stunned Nalyg between him and Cedric and several inches of plated steel in the way of his shapeshifting, so he settled for stiffly flailing the armored limbs on his side in Cedric’s general direction and shouting dragony swears at him while trying to blindly kick him in the shins.
Somewhere down the street, a marching band started playing a warbly siren-like tune, and Cedric turned and fled, pulling Nalzaki along with him so he could keep fighting them while he ran away. Somehow, it actually seemed to be working. Razaran thrashed about and dug his clawed feet into the ground, pulling up cobblestones and knocking townspeople flat with his tail until he managed to get some decent footholds in the street. Just seconds later, Horsegark came barreling out of the crowd with Ivan clinging to his back and charged headfirst into Nalzaki, knocking them clear off the ground in a feat of raw horsepower.
Original Synth was knocked free of Nalzaki’s back, and Ivan bent over backwards and scrambled to catch it while clinging to Horsegark with an arm and both legs. As he managed to get ahold of a fistful of cables, his other hand brushed one of its keys, and everything slowed to a crawl as a single clear, perfect note resonated in the air.
Besides the one note, everything was silent and just a shade faster than completely still, Ivan included. He was unable to blink, breathe or turn his head away from the keytar hanging in space above him, but in the time between seconds, he didn’t seem to need to. His eyes wandered past the legendary instrument to the upper stories of the building they were allegedly racing past, and time caught up to him as a bolt of lightning lanced from the Tesla coils that were still falling on him, smashing a hole in the building he had focused on.
The magnetic field of the lightning wreaked havoc on his extra senses, but those extra few moments had given him good enough of a look at Original Synth that he was able to catch it after only a little panicked fumbling. A focus-based weapon would probably be more helpful in the hands of a creature with three minds than in the hands of someone whose senses were thrown off every time it was used, but this was probably worth hanging onto, decided Ivan as the train-wreck-in-progress of mythical creatures, magical knights and mathematical aliens thundered off down the street.
A chunk of the building they had passed fell to the street and smashed into rubble.
“Wait,” a customer asked a street vendor as the brass hurried past, “was that our god?”
---
Outside the city, basslines hummed across the waters of the bay and continuously crashed into the foundations of Santa Nada’s outer walls. Though the Iron Maiden held back, several of the Thünderwölf Clan’s more agile crafts advanced towards the coast as their oarmen powered ahead, rowing to the rhythm of kickass drum solos that boosted their strength and stamina.
With drum beats and bass at the ready, the vikings’ most skilled guitarists stepped up to the helms of their crafts, plugged in their amps, and started playing as one, searing the walls of Santa Nada with a half-dozen different melodies.
Up on the battlements, Santa Nada’s guards rolled out cannons and aimed them at the viking ships. As the fuses were lit, soldiers lining the wall took up trumpets, violins and drums, and they began to belt out a well-rehearsed rendition of the 1812 Overture that swirled around them and lashed out at the viking fleet.
The cannons just fired blanks.
Santa Nada didn’t have weapons, after all.
… OR MAYBE NOT???
Just as Nalyg opened his mouth to greet the small party of contestants, Sir Cedric came plowing through the crowd like a meteor out of Space Hell.
“PUNCH,” he bellowed, tapping into the reserves of sound-based magic that surrounded the city of Santa Nada as he leaped into the air and decked Razaran in the face so hard that Nalyg and Kanpeki were both struck by the same blow. They stumbled sideways, managed to get their legs tangled up, and collapsed in a dazed heap, cracking cobblestones under their weight. Cedric roared, hauled all nine feet of Nalzaki off of the ground, and hurled him/him/her, smashing the entire clanking, unwieldy mass of limbs, metal plates and legendary musical instruments into the nearest building.
Cascala, Dr. Harmon and some sort of awful little shadow thing drew back into their latest alley and watched in shocked horror as Cedric somehow managed to get Kanpeki in a headlock and punched her in the face while she wailed about how oh god, why was it always her. This made Razaran absolutely furious, but there were several feet of stunned Nalyg between him and Cedric and several inches of plated steel in the way of his shapeshifting, so he settled for stiffly flailing the armored limbs on his side in Cedric’s general direction and shouting dragony swears at him while trying to blindly kick him in the shins.
Somewhere down the street, a marching band started playing a warbly siren-like tune, and Cedric turned and fled, pulling Nalzaki along with him so he could keep fighting them while he ran away. Somehow, it actually seemed to be working. Razaran thrashed about and dug his clawed feet into the ground, pulling up cobblestones and knocking townspeople flat with his tail until he managed to get some decent footholds in the street. Just seconds later, Horsegark came barreling out of the crowd with Ivan clinging to his back and charged headfirst into Nalzaki, knocking them clear off the ground in a feat of raw horsepower.
Original Synth was knocked free of Nalzaki’s back, and Ivan bent over backwards and scrambled to catch it while clinging to Horsegark with an arm and both legs. As he managed to get ahold of a fistful of cables, his other hand brushed one of its keys, and everything slowed to a crawl as a single clear, perfect note resonated in the air.
Besides the one note, everything was silent and just a shade faster than completely still, Ivan included. He was unable to blink, breathe or turn his head away from the keytar hanging in space above him, but in the time between seconds, he didn’t seem to need to. His eyes wandered past the legendary instrument to the upper stories of the building they were allegedly racing past, and time caught up to him as a bolt of lightning lanced from the Tesla coils that were still falling on him, smashing a hole in the building he had focused on.
The magnetic field of the lightning wreaked havoc on his extra senses, but those extra few moments had given him good enough of a look at Original Synth that he was able to catch it after only a little panicked fumbling. A focus-based weapon would probably be more helpful in the hands of a creature with three minds than in the hands of someone whose senses were thrown off every time it was used, but this was probably worth hanging onto, decided Ivan as the train-wreck-in-progress of mythical creatures, magical knights and mathematical aliens thundered off down the street.
A chunk of the building they had passed fell to the street and smashed into rubble.
“Wait,” a customer asked a street vendor as the brass hurried past, “was that our god?”
---
Outside the city, basslines hummed across the waters of the bay and continuously crashed into the foundations of Santa Nada’s outer walls. Though the Iron Maiden held back, several of the Thünderwölf Clan’s more agile crafts advanced towards the coast as their oarmen powered ahead, rowing to the rhythm of kickass drum solos that boosted their strength and stamina.
With drum beats and bass at the ready, the vikings’ most skilled guitarists stepped up to the helms of their crafts, plugged in their amps, and started playing as one, searing the walls of Santa Nada with a half-dozen different melodies.
Up on the battlements, Santa Nada’s guards rolled out cannons and aimed them at the viking ships. As the fuses were lit, soldiers lining the wall took up trumpets, violins and drums, and they began to belt out a well-rehearsed rendition of the 1812 Overture that swirled around them and lashed out at the viking fleet.
The cannons just fired blanks.
Santa Nada didn’t have weapons, after all.