The Grand Battle II! [Happy End!]

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Vyrm'n soared far from the combat, until it felt the golem's influence on the knives and other bits and pieces contained within it begin to fade. Able to stretch itself thinner, the Faceless did so, quickly hitting top speed and making a dash for beyond the wall.

Again, it hit some sort of non-existent barrier with a bodily thump, landing heavily by Maxwell, much to the man's surprise. It swiftly dragged itself up from the collapsed puddle of darkness it had been, until it was its preferred crystalline pillar. It spent a further moment shuffling Gestalt's bits and pieces until they were thoroughly locked away again. Maxwell spent this whole time studying the Faceless warily, though he did his utmost to not show emotion on his face; he had no obvious defence against it should it choose to suffocate him like it had tried with Cabaret. When the creature finished, he stared at a point up it where a normal sentient creature's face would be in proportion to the rest of it.

"Yes?" The Faceless, unsurprisingly, made no reply. Instead, it lowered its bulk slightly so its swiftly forming arm could reach the ground. Maxwell sensed, rather than saw, Vyrm'ns consciousness quickly ascertain the position of Gestalt, before releasing a knife from the prison it was and shifting it to replace a finger. The resulting tool gave Vyrm'ns inscriptions a harsher, more urgent font:

<WHY ARENT YOU FIGHTING ARE YOU GOING TO ATTACK ME>

Maxwell considered the pillar of night, lost for a moment in contemplation of the meandering of stars across the Faceless' otherwise lightless body. He paused, weighing up the situation. He didn't want to appear weak or vulnerable to the Faceless, which technically had made the first strike in this battle for what, to Maxwell's recollections, would at best be only a vaguely justified reason. Then again, it hadn't made any attempts to attack yet, so with a decent response perhaps Maxwell could make an ally of this powerful creature, or at least a less preferred target.

"I'm not fighting because... I'm trying to find a way out. That doesn't involve killing someone each round." Sensing a tension still remaining in the Faceless' demeanour, Maxwell clarified, "So to fight you is a waste of time." It seemed he'd said the right thing, for the Faceless started its awkward script again.

<THERE IS NO WAY OUT NOT OVER I FLY AND THE AIR STOPS ME AND I FALL AND COME BACK TO THE EARTH WHICH CAN ONLY GIVE ME WORDS NEVER FREEDOM-> By this point, Vyrm'n was starting to get rather exciteable, the last few words approaching illegibility as Maxwell nervously reached out a hand to halt the Faceless' attempts to carve a hole of ideas.

"You tried flying over?" The Faceless was staring at Maxwell with a dead, eyeless face which had not been carved upon its features several moments before. The face slid up and down the surface, unmoving but obviously the beast's best attempt at conveying a nod. "Did you... see anything?" Vyrm'n raised its arm again in an attempt to write, Maxwell caught it before it could start. "If you would... please show me." The Faceless surveyed him mutely with its unseeing gaze, before returning the knife to its black tomb and offering a hand. With some trepidation, and not knowing what would happen next, Maxwell took it, trying not to leap back when it rushed up his arm. To his relief, Vyrm'n halted well below the elbow, leaving his wrist immobile but still able to move reasonably well. He noted Vyrm'n seemed to consent to him rotating the hand to a more comfortable angle, still keeping a tight grip at the edge of its hold.

With one hand encased, Vyrm'n proferred a second arm. This one broke the illusion of a humanoid resemblance the Faceless was trying to convey; in relation to its first arm and face the second arm seemed to emerge from around its stomach. Nonetheless, Maxwell took it; again it consented to halt just above the wrist. Vyrm'n suddenly pulled Maxwell up onto itself, still encasing Maxwell's arms but letting his feet traverse the solid darkness unimpeded. It leaned over slightly so the man's ascent up to the top of the Faceless was easier.

With Maxwell perched on top, Vyrm'n let him crouch down, before binding his legs up to his thighs. Now the man was immobilised by the legs and arms in a crouch. As Maxwell took this in, Vyrm'n swiftly leapt into the air, shape stretching up, Maxwell still at the black comet's head. Vyrm'n paid no heed to its passenger; it executed its usual twists and arcs to rise, leaving Maxwell with stomach-churning vertigo on multiple occasions as he felt gravity trying to tear him away from his mount. Eventually, the Faceless reached cruising altitude, and was content to drift in smooth arcs which kept Maxwell favourably oriented.

The two looked around; or rather, Vyrm'n assessed the placement of matter in the arena while Maxwell snuck glances between keeping his eyes clenched shut whenever the Faceless turned, tipping the man over on a discomfiting angle. They saw beyond the walled field the eight of them were trapped in, the nondescript plains carried on, as far as they could see, devoid of any attempt at definition.

<Are we finished now -> Vyrm'n's voice caught Maxwell by surprise, but it was hardly a revelation the creature was capable of communicating through telepathy. He noted the manner the exchange happened; there had been a complete lack of readable thought, punctuated by a burst of consciouness backed up by what Maxwell assumed was background thought, much like static, before Vyrm'n broke the connection abruptly and let no more through. Maxwell tried responding in kind, thinking I'd like to look at the boundary but the Faceless did not seem to respond.
Maxwell gave up and yelled as loud as he could, "Can we look at the boundary?"

Vyrm'n heard that, and swam through the air until the wall was far below. <If I hit that I must land before I may fly again-> Maxwell considered asking it to do it anyway, seeing as it had evidently done it before with no loss to its capabilities, but he wasn't sure how the fall would affect him. "No, I'll believe you. Can we go down now to where we took off from?"

Vyrm'n acquised, and glided down. Instead of hitting the ground with its usual liquifying splash, though, it slowed itself down by dragging its tail, until the whole contraption had ground to a halt. It released Maxwell by simply relinquishing its hold on him, he experienced several moments of panic as his weight made him sink right through the Faceless, followed by relief as he dropped out of the bottom of it. Maxwell examined his clothes, no black trace remained on them. Having had a lurking suspicion as the Vyrm'n's rationale for attacking Cabaret, he awkwardly tipped his hat to the Faceless. "Thank you." He turned back to the wall and studied it, planning his next course of action. The Faceless stood silently where Maxwell had left it, again furiously scrawling something in the dirt.

<WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OF NOW></span>