Re: Mini-Grand 5108 [Round 2: A City in Which Physics Work Somewhat Differently]
10-19-2011, 01:51 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
On the one hand Azazel was pretty pissed off that some shiny douchebag had the nerve to think he could just pick him up and slap him into the middle of the Fantastic Douchefest 3000 or whatever this bullshit was called without his explicitly written consent. And as soon as he had got his slaughter on and annihilated these losers he was going to go after that glowing freak and teach him that you do not mess with Azazel Deathbringer, that if you so much as even attempt to mess with Azazel Deathbringer he will bring the death. And that was what he had done. The bloody remains of his opponents littered Azazel's path through the factory.
Azazel peered around a conveyor belt, along which partially assembled weapons contrarily slid the wrong way along the moving belt. In the distance he could see the muscled guy, he had been introduced but, seriously, as if Azazel was going to bother to remember the names of seven soon-to-be-corpses. Azazel grinned and casually strode out his hands jammed in his pockets, towards the world's most overcompensating man or whatever this guy's thing was.
--------
Arckal was dangerous, well maybe he was not so dangerous in of himself, but as you know by now, dangerous things happen around him. He could be sitting in a dingy café drinking a cup of coffee and somehow things would get dangerous and there would have to be an action sequence. Imagine what happens when someone like that walks into a factory full of weapons.
Suddenly assembly robots, vaguely resembling the squid creatures that ran this city, found their primitive minds malfunction spectacularly leaving only one purpose: to destroy Arckal Stich. Consequently before they were even into the factory proper Arckal and Shieldman were under heavy attack. The cephalopodic androids flung grenades, opened fire with machine guns, one even found itself a minigun to haul around. Much of the advanced weaponry had been ignored by the contestants, most of who were either content with their own weapons or were clueless, having come from cultures that had never developed that kind of weaponry.
The robots were quickly upon them; Arckal nimbly dodged a hail of bullets by leaping onto a moving conveyor belt, Shieldman simply let the bullets thud uselessly into his heavy chassis.
“Halt, fellow robots!” Shieldman exclaimed. “By order of law you are mandated to cease and desist!” Arckal snatched up a pair of submachine guns from the conveyor and opened fire upon the assembly robots. Sparks flew as bullets slammed into the robots slender frames. Other robots were sent flying as Shieldman’s energy projectiles reduced them to little more than a cloud of free-flying scrap metal. It was all very exciting.
--------
Reuben feeled plusgoodful. Doubleplusunstandardfulwise Reuben was plusclearful beardmen Eurasian enemy. A beardman had walked to Reuben and talked. Reuben unknew beardman meaning (“how about we form a team-up, you don’t have to say anything just at the moment if you don’t want but I’ll do my best to protect you all the way to the end and in return you try to protect me? We cool Reborn?”), but knew beardman Eurasian enemy. Beardman proudful eated pastry and sharpened sword. Reuben doubleplusunslowful hateact, eated beardman. After Reuben looked more Eurasian enemys, plusunable finded them.
--------
There were explosions everywhere. Arckal nimbly dodged rockets launched by a particularly irate gorilla with a shotgun for an arm. A stray rocket slammed into a rifle manufacturing machine, which exploded in a shower of flaming debris and promptly unexploded, putting itself back together as good as new, arguably working even better than it had previously been. Shieldman was largely unaffected by the explosions, his shielding protecting him from any real damage. Arckal dodged between crates packed with weaponry as the gorilla with a shotgun for an arm blasted intermittently at him. Soon he was through the storage area and face to face with his aggressor. He dodged a shotgun blast, levelled his twin submachine guns at the gorilla and pulled the trigger. They clicked, empty.
-------
Mister Olympia could punch his way through a solid steel wall, at the very height of his athletic prowess he had been able to fold sheet metal into an origami swan and then beat his enemies to death with it. He was the very peak of physical perfection. But none of that matters when a cloud of razor sharp blades plunges into your face. Mister Olympia’s final thoughts were for his beloved wife who he would never have the opportunity to reconcile with and his children who would never know what had happened to their father. Then all that was left of him was a grisly explosion of blood and flesh; Azazel Deathbringer was bringing the death.
--------
While Shieldman dealt with the remaining assembly robots Arckal was in the midst of a fight with a gorilla with a shotgun for an arm. For a little while there Arckal had actually been concerned, pinned down by a homicidal gorilla with a shotgun for an arm was not the way he had intended on checking out. Luckily the gorilla had run out of ammunition pretty quickly and didn’t seem to have any discernible way to reload his arm. In the machete fight that had fallen, the gorilla had been significantly handicapped by its shotgun arm, scoring only superficial hits that did little more than tear Arckal’s shirt. Blow by blow the gorilla weakened, became more sluggish as it slowly bled out.
The gorilla dispatched Arckal snagged its rocket launcher and wandered off to see if he could find where Shieldman had got to.
--------
Azazel approached the black blob thing, which was, according to the massive scoreboard mounted upon the walls of the factory, the last competitor standing. What the hell was this thing even supposed to be? A blob? What a fucking load. Azazel ate blobs for breakfast. This was going to be such an anticlimax. He strode towards Reuben, confident with a smirk upon his face. As he approached the blob he took a deep breath and blew out a gust of whirling blades at the black blob. Within moments it was sliced and diced, collapsed upon the floor, dead.
“Hey, fucking glowing douchebag!” Azazel called. “I did it. I won; now get the fuck out here so I can show you not to fuck with Azazel Deathbringer.”
As he swaggered around yelling for the Grandmaster to come to him, Reuben reconstituted himself. In truth his victory here had never really been in question. The Extravagant had in his hurry to set up the Phantasmagorical Scrimmage 2.0 neglected to grab all of Reuben and even now Reuben’s core was still stuck in a library hovering high above the City In Which Physics Work Somewhat Differently.
Reuben eated.
--------
The Extravagant made his entrance in, what else, an explosion of explosions, just as Shieldman and Arckal arrived in the vicinity, drawn there by Azazel’s confrontational yells. “Congratulations Ribbon.” He said enthusiastically. “You did it, and in record time too. You would not believe how long most battles take, I mean seriously it is like cut to the chase already we get it, am I right? Of course I fucking am.” He paused for a moment, noticing Arckal and Shieldman. “Oh hey guys. This is Ribbon, oh yeah that’s right you introduced him to me. What am I thinking? Anyway he won the battle and now he gets some kind of request from me.” The Extravagant turned his attention back to the blob which had raised itself to his height.
“You, Sunglow and Technology are Eastasian ally?” Reuben asked… somehow.
“Jesus what is this guy’s issue.” The Extravagant frowned.
“You doubleplusunclearful.” Reuben replied.
“Ugh look how about we say you wished you weren’t such a freak and could communicate in normal people speak?” The Extravagant nudged Reuben with his elbow. “You’ll thank me later.” The Extravagant waved his arms around, setting off some special effects pyrotechnics. For a moment it did not seem as if anything had changed.
“I don't understand.” Reuben said. “What in Big Brother’s name are these words coming out of my mouth? What is this?” The blob somehow managed to convey an expression of panic despite the lack of any facial features. “What have you done to me?!”
On the one hand Azazel was pretty pissed off that some shiny douchebag had the nerve to think he could just pick him up and slap him into the middle of the Fantastic Douchefest 3000 or whatever this bullshit was called without his explicitly written consent. And as soon as he had got his slaughter on and annihilated these losers he was going to go after that glowing freak and teach him that you do not mess with Azazel Deathbringer, that if you so much as even attempt to mess with Azazel Deathbringer he will bring the death. And that was what he had done. The bloody remains of his opponents littered Azazel's path through the factory.
Azazel peered around a conveyor belt, along which partially assembled weapons contrarily slid the wrong way along the moving belt. In the distance he could see the muscled guy, he had been introduced but, seriously, as if Azazel was going to bother to remember the names of seven soon-to-be-corpses. Azazel grinned and casually strode out his hands jammed in his pockets, towards the world's most overcompensating man or whatever this guy's thing was.
--------
Arckal was dangerous, well maybe he was not so dangerous in of himself, but as you know by now, dangerous things happen around him. He could be sitting in a dingy café drinking a cup of coffee and somehow things would get dangerous and there would have to be an action sequence. Imagine what happens when someone like that walks into a factory full of weapons.
Suddenly assembly robots, vaguely resembling the squid creatures that ran this city, found their primitive minds malfunction spectacularly leaving only one purpose: to destroy Arckal Stich. Consequently before they were even into the factory proper Arckal and Shieldman were under heavy attack. The cephalopodic androids flung grenades, opened fire with machine guns, one even found itself a minigun to haul around. Much of the advanced weaponry had been ignored by the contestants, most of who were either content with their own weapons or were clueless, having come from cultures that had never developed that kind of weaponry.
The robots were quickly upon them; Arckal nimbly dodged a hail of bullets by leaping onto a moving conveyor belt, Shieldman simply let the bullets thud uselessly into his heavy chassis.
“Halt, fellow robots!” Shieldman exclaimed. “By order of law you are mandated to cease and desist!” Arckal snatched up a pair of submachine guns from the conveyor and opened fire upon the assembly robots. Sparks flew as bullets slammed into the robots slender frames. Other robots were sent flying as Shieldman’s energy projectiles reduced them to little more than a cloud of free-flying scrap metal. It was all very exciting.
--------
Reuben feeled plusgoodful. Doubleplusunstandardfulwise Reuben was plusclearful beardmen Eurasian enemy. A beardman had walked to Reuben and talked. Reuben unknew beardman meaning (“how about we form a team-up, you don’t have to say anything just at the moment if you don’t want but I’ll do my best to protect you all the way to the end and in return you try to protect me? We cool Reborn?”), but knew beardman Eurasian enemy. Beardman proudful eated pastry and sharpened sword. Reuben doubleplusunslowful hateact, eated beardman. After Reuben looked more Eurasian enemys, plusunable finded them.
--------
There were explosions everywhere. Arckal nimbly dodged rockets launched by a particularly irate gorilla with a shotgun for an arm. A stray rocket slammed into a rifle manufacturing machine, which exploded in a shower of flaming debris and promptly unexploded, putting itself back together as good as new, arguably working even better than it had previously been. Shieldman was largely unaffected by the explosions, his shielding protecting him from any real damage. Arckal dodged between crates packed with weaponry as the gorilla with a shotgun for an arm blasted intermittently at him. Soon he was through the storage area and face to face with his aggressor. He dodged a shotgun blast, levelled his twin submachine guns at the gorilla and pulled the trigger. They clicked, empty.
-------
Mister Olympia could punch his way through a solid steel wall, at the very height of his athletic prowess he had been able to fold sheet metal into an origami swan and then beat his enemies to death with it. He was the very peak of physical perfection. But none of that matters when a cloud of razor sharp blades plunges into your face. Mister Olympia’s final thoughts were for his beloved wife who he would never have the opportunity to reconcile with and his children who would never know what had happened to their father. Then all that was left of him was a grisly explosion of blood and flesh; Azazel Deathbringer was bringing the death.
--------
While Shieldman dealt with the remaining assembly robots Arckal was in the midst of a fight with a gorilla with a shotgun for an arm. For a little while there Arckal had actually been concerned, pinned down by a homicidal gorilla with a shotgun for an arm was not the way he had intended on checking out. Luckily the gorilla had run out of ammunition pretty quickly and didn’t seem to have any discernible way to reload his arm. In the machete fight that had fallen, the gorilla had been significantly handicapped by its shotgun arm, scoring only superficial hits that did little more than tear Arckal’s shirt. Blow by blow the gorilla weakened, became more sluggish as it slowly bled out.
The gorilla dispatched Arckal snagged its rocket launcher and wandered off to see if he could find where Shieldman had got to.
--------
Azazel approached the black blob thing, which was, according to the massive scoreboard mounted upon the walls of the factory, the last competitor standing. What the hell was this thing even supposed to be? A blob? What a fucking load. Azazel ate blobs for breakfast. This was going to be such an anticlimax. He strode towards Reuben, confident with a smirk upon his face. As he approached the blob he took a deep breath and blew out a gust of whirling blades at the black blob. Within moments it was sliced and diced, collapsed upon the floor, dead.
“Hey, fucking glowing douchebag!” Azazel called. “I did it. I won; now get the fuck out here so I can show you not to fuck with Azazel Deathbringer.”
As he swaggered around yelling for the Grandmaster to come to him, Reuben reconstituted himself. In truth his victory here had never really been in question. The Extravagant had in his hurry to set up the Phantasmagorical Scrimmage 2.0 neglected to grab all of Reuben and even now Reuben’s core was still stuck in a library hovering high above the City In Which Physics Work Somewhat Differently.
Reuben eated.
--------
The Extravagant made his entrance in, what else, an explosion of explosions, just as Shieldman and Arckal arrived in the vicinity, drawn there by Azazel’s confrontational yells. “Congratulations Ribbon.” He said enthusiastically. “You did it, and in record time too. You would not believe how long most battles take, I mean seriously it is like cut to the chase already we get it, am I right? Of course I fucking am.” He paused for a moment, noticing Arckal and Shieldman. “Oh hey guys. This is Ribbon, oh yeah that’s right you introduced him to me. What am I thinking? Anyway he won the battle and now he gets some kind of request from me.” The Extravagant turned his attention back to the blob which had raised itself to his height.
“You, Sunglow and Technology are Eastasian ally?” Reuben asked… somehow.
“Jesus what is this guy’s issue.” The Extravagant frowned.
“You doubleplusunclearful.” Reuben replied.
“Ugh look how about we say you wished you weren’t such a freak and could communicate in normal people speak?” The Extravagant nudged Reuben with his elbow. “You’ll thank me later.” The Extravagant waved his arms around, setting off some special effects pyrotechnics. For a moment it did not seem as if anything had changed.
“I don't understand.” Reuben said. “What in Big Brother’s name are these words coming out of my mouth? What is this?” The blob somehow managed to convey an expression of panic despite the lack of any facial features. “What have you done to me?!”
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