Re: Mini-Grand 5108 [Final Round: The Asylum]
02-23-2012, 06:01 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.
Jetsam's "friends" wasted no time in starting their assault of the dynamic duo, Jetsam having to dodge a fiery punch while Arckal narrowly avoided the sharp stab of the dragonesque creature's arm.
Arckal was actually pleased at this turn of events. Multidimensional bullshit, crazy asylums, blob monsters, viruses and robots? That was weird! Nothing he'd ever done had led to that kind of stuff, and certainly never out of the movies. But a good old fist fight? Yea, he could deal with that.
"So," Arckal took the missed jab as an opening to place his foot in the dragonesque's gut, "where'd you guys meet?"
Thanks to the various elements coming at him, Jetsam was having a slightly more difficult time. Luckily, it wasn't enough that he wasn't able to cringe at the sing-songy tone that his "companion" was taking. "Really? Is this really the time?"
His opponent dazed, Arckal turned around and shrugged, "They don't seem to mind, come on, it's only a fist fight."
His answer was the fire ball sent at his head.
While the fire ball went over a ducking Arckal and into the scaly creature behind him, Jetsam used the distraction to launch a well-placed fist into his opponents gut. Breathing a bit heavily, Jetsam stared at the smugly grinning Arckal with contempt.
"Only a fist fight? Only?!"
"Hey, we won didn't we?"
Before Jetsam could continue to hate Arckal, a very special motorcycle went over and parked itself on top of the punched out human. Hilux was very excited to see people who were not on the staff of the facility, and as everyone else was running around, he was rather happy to see someone standing as it meant that he could probably get them to ride him. He really liked it when people rode on him because it usually meant that he got to talk to them and they would ask him advice and he would give such great advice and then they would tell him to shut up and then it was less nice but still good.
"Hey there! I am a 2001 Toyota Hilux. You can call me Hilux. Wanna take me for a spin?"
Arckal was ecstatic at the prospect of another motorcycle to drive and immediately got on, telling Jetsam to join him. Revving up, and zooming through the Asylum's halls to where his escape lay, Arckal once more felt in charge. Things were looking simple again. He had a motorcycle, he was in a fist fight, all he really needed to make the image complete was a dame. With hope, he wouldn't have to deal with more blob or horror or anything, just riding off and going home. Yea.
That would be cool. Then everything would be in the past. The fate of Nyoka, Ka, Shieldman, Micheal Bay, Reuben...
Even the thrill of the ride couldn't stop him from thinking about them. What would happen to Reuben if one of them wasn't around to die? Would he be trapped in this hell hole forever? No. He had to focus on the ride. The thrill. And hopefully, freedom.
He was so preoccupied with these line of thoughts, that he didn't really notice the state Jetsam was in. In a word, he was dumbstruck. Literally struck by an excess amount of dumb. He could take quite a few things, and he had certainly been to weirder places, but something about this whole thing was just driving him mad. He couldn't really pin-point just what part of it threw him off the edge, and that was part of it.
Was it Arckal's idiocy? His brashness? His misplaced optimism and naivety? The talking motorcycle? The talking motorcycle that introduced itself as a truck? The talking motorcycle that they were riding on that somehow didn't think that carrying two people in the way that it was meant it was not a fucking truck? The way that Arckal just brushed that ridiculous statement off and started to ride like a school girl?
What was it? Why? When would it be over? How long until they reached his salvation?
Jetsam didn't know.
And maybe, that was the worst part.
Jetsam's "friends" wasted no time in starting their assault of the dynamic duo, Jetsam having to dodge a fiery punch while Arckal narrowly avoided the sharp stab of the dragonesque creature's arm.
Arckal was actually pleased at this turn of events. Multidimensional bullshit, crazy asylums, blob monsters, viruses and robots? That was weird! Nothing he'd ever done had led to that kind of stuff, and certainly never out of the movies. But a good old fist fight? Yea, he could deal with that.
"So," Arckal took the missed jab as an opening to place his foot in the dragonesque's gut, "where'd you guys meet?"
Thanks to the various elements coming at him, Jetsam was having a slightly more difficult time. Luckily, it wasn't enough that he wasn't able to cringe at the sing-songy tone that his "companion" was taking. "Really? Is this really the time?"
His opponent dazed, Arckal turned around and shrugged, "They don't seem to mind, come on, it's only a fist fight."
His answer was the fire ball sent at his head.
While the fire ball went over a ducking Arckal and into the scaly creature behind him, Jetsam used the distraction to launch a well-placed fist into his opponents gut. Breathing a bit heavily, Jetsam stared at the smugly grinning Arckal with contempt.
"Only a fist fight? Only?!"
"Hey, we won didn't we?"
Before Jetsam could continue to hate Arckal, a very special motorcycle went over and parked itself on top of the punched out human. Hilux was very excited to see people who were not on the staff of the facility, and as everyone else was running around, he was rather happy to see someone standing as it meant that he could probably get them to ride him. He really liked it when people rode on him because it usually meant that he got to talk to them and they would ask him advice and he would give such great advice and then they would tell him to shut up and then it was less nice but still good.
"Hey there! I am a 2001 Toyota Hilux. You can call me Hilux. Wanna take me for a spin?"
Arckal was ecstatic at the prospect of another motorcycle to drive and immediately got on, telling Jetsam to join him. Revving up, and zooming through the Asylum's halls to where his escape lay, Arckal once more felt in charge. Things were looking simple again. He had a motorcycle, he was in a fist fight, all he really needed to make the image complete was a dame. With hope, he wouldn't have to deal with more blob or horror or anything, just riding off and going home. Yea.
That would be cool. Then everything would be in the past. The fate of Nyoka, Ka, Shieldman, Micheal Bay, Reuben...
Even the thrill of the ride couldn't stop him from thinking about them. What would happen to Reuben if one of them wasn't around to die? Would he be trapped in this hell hole forever? No. He had to focus on the ride. The thrill. And hopefully, freedom.
He was so preoccupied with these line of thoughts, that he didn't really notice the state Jetsam was in. In a word, he was dumbstruck. Literally struck by an excess amount of dumb. He could take quite a few things, and he had certainly been to weirder places, but something about this whole thing was just driving him mad. He couldn't really pin-point just what part of it threw him off the edge, and that was part of it.
Was it Arckal's idiocy? His brashness? His misplaced optimism and naivety? The talking motorcycle? The talking motorcycle that introduced itself as a truck? The talking motorcycle that they were riding on that somehow didn't think that carrying two people in the way that it was meant it was not a fucking truck? The way that Arckal just brushed that ridiculous statement off and started to ride like a school girl?
What was it? Why? When would it be over? How long until they reached his salvation?
Jetsam didn't know.
And maybe, that was the worst part.