Re: The Wretched Rite - Round Two - Inferno Alpha
07-26-2012, 05:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-12-2023, 04:21 AM by Ixcaliber.
Edit Reason: changed name of tsote homeplanet from Kerel to Deste (to align with information from Quietus)
)
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Fighting angels was tougher than Vera had expected. She attacked, performing artful slashes and delivering devastating swings that she thought she had long ago perfected, yet it was to no avail. Every blow was expertly ducked or dodged or effortlessly parried no matter how quick she was or how hard she swung her razorwhip. It was incredibly frustrating, and also kind of disconcerting; this was something she knew she was good at and these robots were making her look incompetent. Back at school she’d been at the top of her class when it came to whip-fighting. It was her signature weapon and she and her friends had had plenty of practice sparring sessions. She’d never lost a single match. As if that wasn’t evidence enough of her obvious skill with the whip there had been the dragon in the previous round, which she had taken on by herself and emerged victorious. She was a master whip-fighter and clearly these angel robots were using some kind of miracles to get the best of her. It wasn’t fair.
In truth Vera was competent enough in combat, but by no means could she be described as good. Back on Deste it was a person’s fate that was important, not a person’s actual abilities and so her friends and classmates had never really tried all that hard to beat her. She was fated to be a great fighter so she was a great fighter and nobody ever questioned that. Even the dragon had not been fighting at its full capabilities. Dragons were supposed to be vanquished, that was the point of them. The previous round had been so steeped in the influence of narrative that the creature practically lay down and let her kill him. This was pretty much the first moment she’d ever tried to lash out at things that didn’t want to let her win, and she was finding a battle under those circumstances to be so much more difficult, not that she saw it this way.
In a cramped canvas tent full of angels you would have thought that just by swinging your whip around wildly you would end up hitting something. Somehow this wasn’t the case.
“Come on you winged bitches!” Vera cried angrily. The angels made no attempt to attack her; she was a citizen of Paradiso Alpha, the mere thought of intentionally harming her was… well… unthinkable. Vera continued to attack, her swings becoming wilder and less focused with every attack that was dodged. Her razorwhip slashed through one of the tent supports and within seconds the canvas ceiling descended upon them. Near-blinded and having difficulty manoeuvring beneath the collapsed tent Vera cried out in frustration once again. Despite the conditions she continued to lash out; she hit something and then there was a crash of glass shattering. It was just the crafts table, but after what she’d been through earlier Vera considered this to be a small victory anyway.
“Enough!” echoed the distinctive voice of the angel Vera had dubbed Miss Penrose, and with it came a cessation to the battle. One angel grasped the tent and flew upwards with it, removing Vera’s impediment, however before she could take this opportunity to try to resume her attack, Miss Penrose grabbed the razorwhip by the lash and pulled. Vera stumbled forwards as her weapon was pulled from her grasp.
“Hey!” Vera snapped. The next moment Miss Penrose was behind her, grabbing her hands and pinning them behind her back with a manacle-like grip. Vera struggled but succeeded only in chafing her wrists. The speed with which the angel moved made it quite clear that Vera had never really had any chance of winning their little confrontation. This knowledge only made her angrier; she kicked and swore and spat at the other angels as Miss Penrose frogmarched her towards the elevator. It was all so unfair. Miss Penrose just tutted and though Vera couldn’t see her she imagined that the angel was rolling her eyes.
The massive glass doors closed behind them and the elevator lurched into life. At least she was getting out of here, Vera thought. It might not have been as dignified as she would have liked, but at least she could get away from these psychotic angels. She was incredibly surprised to find that the elevator was moving downwards, deeper into the heaven planet. Vera somehow managed to find it within herself to struggle harder against Miss Penrose’s grip, not that it did her any good.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Attacking an angel is a very serious thing.” Miss Penrose’s voice had never sounded more like a disapproving teacher. “You must be taken to the Empyrean so that the Godbot can decide your fate.” Vera felt very much like she was being taken to the Headmistress’ office.
“I know my fate.” Vera snapped back. “Some dumb robot doesn’t get to decide it for me.”
“Watch your tongue child.” Miss Penrose replied. “If the Godbot deems you to be contrite and apologetic you might yet be allowed to stay.”
“That’s fine with me I don’t want to be here anyway.” Vera muttered under her breath. There was a disapproving silence; she was sure that Miss Penrose had heard her comments but declined to reply to them.
Slowly the elevator descended deeper, finally entering the Empyrean. With the bareness of the levels above Vera hadn’t been expecting anything impressive here at the heart of planet, and despite her distaste for this entire place she could not help but be amazed by the sight. At the heart of the room a gigantic golden throne, as tall as a house and carved to resemble angels and humans prostrating themselves beneath their god. The walls were pitch black and upon them projections of the twinkling stars of distant galaxies. Descending into the cavern it looked for all the world as though they were on the surface of the world, and more than that, as though they were at the heart of the universe itself. Though, with that said the effect was kind of ruined by the hundreds of photographs that were plastered across the walls. The moment Vera’s attention turned to these photographs her awe turned to a sort of revulsion at the pit of her stomach. The photographs were all of her, hundreds of them taken from the moment she stepped foot off the shuttle.
The elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors opened and Miss Penrose pushed Vera out into the massive emptiness that was the Empyrean. There was a short walk to the base of the golden throne, the path of which was littered with piles of sloppily made arts and crafts projects, which didn’t help to quell this sudden feeling of dread in her stomach.
“What is this?” Vera demanded incredulously.
“The Godbot took a… special interest in you.” Miss Penrose stated the obvious. In truth it was to be expected, it was lonely down here in the Empyrean where even angels did not visit unless they had good reason to do so, and without a single subject in the whole of heaven for so long; it was little wonder he had been so excited by Vera’s arrival. They came to a stop at the base of the throne.
“So where is this Godbot?” Vera asked. “Let’s get this over with.”
“He has unfortunately been forced to leave Paradiso Alpha for the moment.” Miss Penrose explained. “Once he is done cleansing the unclean and destroying the Pit itself, he will return and his judgement will be passed.”
“Okay.” Vera replied. “I don't suppose there is any chance of you letting go for a minute?”
“So that you might make a mess of the Empyrean the same way you made a mess of the Ninth Sphere?” If anything Miss Penrose’s grip tightened upon Vera’s wrists. “Or so that you might try to attack me once again? That would be incredibly foolish of me, child.”
“So you intend that we both just stand here until the Godbot gets back?” Vera asked.
“Yes.” Miss Penrose said. “Patience is a virtue you know.”
--------
The executive resurrection vault slid open and out stepped Pope Honorope. Of course it would be stupid if he were the only truly mortal person on a planet of people who are routinely resurrected after their many deaths. He pulled on the vestments that had been prepared while he was being bodily reconstructed; they resembled a pair of jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket. They resembled these things in that that is what they were.
“Subroutine, give me a status report.” He said simply. When there was no reply he strode over to the communication device and slammed his fist down on it. “Damnit Subroutine, tell me you’ve captured that bitch who killed me. I think I’m going to have some fun with her.”
There was no reply.
Shit, Honorope thought. He could only think of one situation in which the Subroutine would be unable to respond to him and it ended with the unfortunate destruction of Inferno Alpha. Oh well, he thought, we had a good run. Time to get the fuck out of here. He pulled over a desk chair, sat himself down on it backwards and began typing away at the console, as quickly and efficiently as he possibly could.
Within moments a dozen or so processes began. The executive escape shuttle was fuelled and run through a series of tests to make sure it was up to the task, a number of provisions were loaded onto the shuttle, including a selection of fine wines, a number of boxes of delectable foreign confectionaries and innumerable packets of condoms; and in the executive resurrection chamber, a number of vaults all containing the genetic codes of beautiful and very devout members of Honorope’s ‘congragation’ hummed into life.
Fighting angels was tougher than Vera had expected. She attacked, performing artful slashes and delivering devastating swings that she thought she had long ago perfected, yet it was to no avail. Every blow was expertly ducked or dodged or effortlessly parried no matter how quick she was or how hard she swung her razorwhip. It was incredibly frustrating, and also kind of disconcerting; this was something she knew she was good at and these robots were making her look incompetent. Back at school she’d been at the top of her class when it came to whip-fighting. It was her signature weapon and she and her friends had had plenty of practice sparring sessions. She’d never lost a single match. As if that wasn’t evidence enough of her obvious skill with the whip there had been the dragon in the previous round, which she had taken on by herself and emerged victorious. She was a master whip-fighter and clearly these angel robots were using some kind of miracles to get the best of her. It wasn’t fair.
In truth Vera was competent enough in combat, but by no means could she be described as good. Back on Deste it was a person’s fate that was important, not a person’s actual abilities and so her friends and classmates had never really tried all that hard to beat her. She was fated to be a great fighter so she was a great fighter and nobody ever questioned that. Even the dragon had not been fighting at its full capabilities. Dragons were supposed to be vanquished, that was the point of them. The previous round had been so steeped in the influence of narrative that the creature practically lay down and let her kill him. This was pretty much the first moment she’d ever tried to lash out at things that didn’t want to let her win, and she was finding a battle under those circumstances to be so much more difficult, not that she saw it this way.
In a cramped canvas tent full of angels you would have thought that just by swinging your whip around wildly you would end up hitting something. Somehow this wasn’t the case.
“Come on you winged bitches!” Vera cried angrily. The angels made no attempt to attack her; she was a citizen of Paradiso Alpha, the mere thought of intentionally harming her was… well… unthinkable. Vera continued to attack, her swings becoming wilder and less focused with every attack that was dodged. Her razorwhip slashed through one of the tent supports and within seconds the canvas ceiling descended upon them. Near-blinded and having difficulty manoeuvring beneath the collapsed tent Vera cried out in frustration once again. Despite the conditions she continued to lash out; she hit something and then there was a crash of glass shattering. It was just the crafts table, but after what she’d been through earlier Vera considered this to be a small victory anyway.
“Enough!” echoed the distinctive voice of the angel Vera had dubbed Miss Penrose, and with it came a cessation to the battle. One angel grasped the tent and flew upwards with it, removing Vera’s impediment, however before she could take this opportunity to try to resume her attack, Miss Penrose grabbed the razorwhip by the lash and pulled. Vera stumbled forwards as her weapon was pulled from her grasp.
“Hey!” Vera snapped. The next moment Miss Penrose was behind her, grabbing her hands and pinning them behind her back with a manacle-like grip. Vera struggled but succeeded only in chafing her wrists. The speed with which the angel moved made it quite clear that Vera had never really had any chance of winning their little confrontation. This knowledge only made her angrier; she kicked and swore and spat at the other angels as Miss Penrose frogmarched her towards the elevator. It was all so unfair. Miss Penrose just tutted and though Vera couldn’t see her she imagined that the angel was rolling her eyes.
The massive glass doors closed behind them and the elevator lurched into life. At least she was getting out of here, Vera thought. It might not have been as dignified as she would have liked, but at least she could get away from these psychotic angels. She was incredibly surprised to find that the elevator was moving downwards, deeper into the heaven planet. Vera somehow managed to find it within herself to struggle harder against Miss Penrose’s grip, not that it did her any good.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Attacking an angel is a very serious thing.” Miss Penrose’s voice had never sounded more like a disapproving teacher. “You must be taken to the Empyrean so that the Godbot can decide your fate.” Vera felt very much like she was being taken to the Headmistress’ office.
“I know my fate.” Vera snapped back. “Some dumb robot doesn’t get to decide it for me.”
“Watch your tongue child.” Miss Penrose replied. “If the Godbot deems you to be contrite and apologetic you might yet be allowed to stay.”
“That’s fine with me I don’t want to be here anyway.” Vera muttered under her breath. There was a disapproving silence; she was sure that Miss Penrose had heard her comments but declined to reply to them.
Slowly the elevator descended deeper, finally entering the Empyrean. With the bareness of the levels above Vera hadn’t been expecting anything impressive here at the heart of planet, and despite her distaste for this entire place she could not help but be amazed by the sight. At the heart of the room a gigantic golden throne, as tall as a house and carved to resemble angels and humans prostrating themselves beneath their god. The walls were pitch black and upon them projections of the twinkling stars of distant galaxies. Descending into the cavern it looked for all the world as though they were on the surface of the world, and more than that, as though they were at the heart of the universe itself. Though, with that said the effect was kind of ruined by the hundreds of photographs that were plastered across the walls. The moment Vera’s attention turned to these photographs her awe turned to a sort of revulsion at the pit of her stomach. The photographs were all of her, hundreds of them taken from the moment she stepped foot off the shuttle.
The elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors opened and Miss Penrose pushed Vera out into the massive emptiness that was the Empyrean. There was a short walk to the base of the golden throne, the path of which was littered with piles of sloppily made arts and crafts projects, which didn’t help to quell this sudden feeling of dread in her stomach.
“What is this?” Vera demanded incredulously.
“The Godbot took a… special interest in you.” Miss Penrose stated the obvious. In truth it was to be expected, it was lonely down here in the Empyrean where even angels did not visit unless they had good reason to do so, and without a single subject in the whole of heaven for so long; it was little wonder he had been so excited by Vera’s arrival. They came to a stop at the base of the throne.
“So where is this Godbot?” Vera asked. “Let’s get this over with.”
“He has unfortunately been forced to leave Paradiso Alpha for the moment.” Miss Penrose explained. “Once he is done cleansing the unclean and destroying the Pit itself, he will return and his judgement will be passed.”
“Okay.” Vera replied. “I don't suppose there is any chance of you letting go for a minute?”
“So that you might make a mess of the Empyrean the same way you made a mess of the Ninth Sphere?” If anything Miss Penrose’s grip tightened upon Vera’s wrists. “Or so that you might try to attack me once again? That would be incredibly foolish of me, child.”
“So you intend that we both just stand here until the Godbot gets back?” Vera asked.
“Yes.” Miss Penrose said. “Patience is a virtue you know.”
--------
The executive resurrection vault slid open and out stepped Pope Honorope. Of course it would be stupid if he were the only truly mortal person on a planet of people who are routinely resurrected after their many deaths. He pulled on the vestments that had been prepared while he was being bodily reconstructed; they resembled a pair of jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket. They resembled these things in that that is what they were.
“Subroutine, give me a status report.” He said simply. When there was no reply he strode over to the communication device and slammed his fist down on it. “Damnit Subroutine, tell me you’ve captured that bitch who killed me. I think I’m going to have some fun with her.”
There was no reply.
Shit, Honorope thought. He could only think of one situation in which the Subroutine would be unable to respond to him and it ended with the unfortunate destruction of Inferno Alpha. Oh well, he thought, we had a good run. Time to get the fuck out of here. He pulled over a desk chair, sat himself down on it backwards and began typing away at the console, as quickly and efficiently as he possibly could.
Within moments a dozen or so processes began. The executive escape shuttle was fuelled and run through a series of tests to make sure it was up to the task, a number of provisions were loaded onto the shuttle, including a selection of fine wines, a number of boxes of delectable foreign confectionaries and innumerable packets of condoms; and in the executive resurrection chamber, a number of vaults all containing the genetic codes of beautiful and very devout members of Honorope’s ‘congragation’ hummed into life.
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