Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 1: The Labyrinth Field!]
10-08-2009, 07:57 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
The plane shook, and all within it could hear the scream; a piercing shriek of madness and fury, less a sound than a mental force. Vyrm'n nearly slid backwards under the force of rage and pain rushing against it. Two voices screeched in the Faceless's mind, much more coherently and venomously than before.
YOU SIT THERE AND YOU JUDGE WHAT WE WOULD HAVE WANTED AND DECIDE OUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
AND YOU TAKE OUR LIVES AND CRUSH THEM INTO NOTHING
AND YOU HAVE TO GALL
THE GALL
TO SPEAK TO US AND PREEN YOURSELF AND ACT AS THOUGH YOU WERE SOME SORT OF MORAL HERO
The sky was darkening, and the vision of Nu was sobbing, teeth bared and howling with rage. Two boxes finally slammed open, and two shards of brick hovered out and leveled themselves at the Faceless.
-
The professor was worried. Something was seriously wrong, both with his friend and with the world. He spun his cane, bouncing back to the world the schrotgolem had just escaped to; with a few simple calculations and a healthy pinch of guesswork, he managed to land very near his companion and the Faceless. He gasped as he saw the bricks ride from the boxes, surmising quickly the pair where about to battle. He dashed towards the column of darkness, swinging his cane, intent on ensuring the golem won; Vrym'n bulk shifted to dodge the brick hurtling towards it, crashing into Armidillo and sending him sprawling. The professor's cane collided with the wall, the stone top that topped the stick shattering.
"Oh... bugger."
He felt one of his legs shifting to a leadlike composition, his arms vaccilating between helium and beryllium; the professor's body was bulging and shrinking rapidly in odd places, and he was discharging electricity in small bolts at odd intervals. Even as Vyrm'n and the bricks danced in a ballet of dodge and parry, the professor felt his composition becoming even more unstable.
"Well, Gestalt, it looks like it's over for me." The man coughed, grinning weakly. "I hope you had as much fun as I did."
The combatants took notice of the dying man, halting briefly and turning mentally towards him.
-
There was an explosion. Maxwell, Vyrm'n, the wall, and all of the schrotgolem's pieces were flung away with great force; there was a small crater, into the center of which fell a slightly-charred notebook. A moment later, a smaller object drifted gently down onto the pages: a bowtie.
The boxes, their contents, and several more bricks from the now-sundered wall gathered together at the edge of the crater. Nu was still near them, but even fainter than before, its mouth moving silently. The sky was now black, and any grass there had been in the field was withered and dead; the soil was drying and cracking, the air tasted stale and foul, and there was a general feeling of disrepair and decay pervading everything.
The boxes shook for a moment, Vyrm'n temporarily forgotten.
Gestalt was ill-equipped to deal with this.
The plane shook, and all within it could hear the scream; a piercing shriek of madness and fury, less a sound than a mental force. Vyrm'n nearly slid backwards under the force of rage and pain rushing against it. Two voices screeched in the Faceless's mind, much more coherently and venomously than before.
YOU SIT THERE AND YOU JUDGE WHAT WE WOULD HAVE WANTED AND DECIDE OUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
AND YOU TAKE OUR LIVES AND CRUSH THEM INTO NOTHING
AND YOU HAVE TO GALL
THE GALL
TO SPEAK TO US AND PREEN YOURSELF AND ACT AS THOUGH YOU WERE SOME SORT OF MORAL HERO
The sky was darkening, and the vision of Nu was sobbing, teeth bared and howling with rage. Two boxes finally slammed open, and two shards of brick hovered out and leveled themselves at the Faceless.
-
The professor was worried. Something was seriously wrong, both with his friend and with the world. He spun his cane, bouncing back to the world the schrotgolem had just escaped to; with a few simple calculations and a healthy pinch of guesswork, he managed to land very near his companion and the Faceless. He gasped as he saw the bricks ride from the boxes, surmising quickly the pair where about to battle. He dashed towards the column of darkness, swinging his cane, intent on ensuring the golem won; Vrym'n bulk shifted to dodge the brick hurtling towards it, crashing into Armidillo and sending him sprawling. The professor's cane collided with the wall, the stone top that topped the stick shattering.
"Oh... bugger."
He felt one of his legs shifting to a leadlike composition, his arms vaccilating between helium and beryllium; the professor's body was bulging and shrinking rapidly in odd places, and he was discharging electricity in small bolts at odd intervals. Even as Vyrm'n and the bricks danced in a ballet of dodge and parry, the professor felt his composition becoming even more unstable.
"Well, Gestalt, it looks like it's over for me." The man coughed, grinning weakly. "I hope you had as much fun as I did."
The combatants took notice of the dying man, halting briefly and turning mentally towards him.
-
There was an explosion. Maxwell, Vyrm'n, the wall, and all of the schrotgolem's pieces were flung away with great force; there was a small crater, into the center of which fell a slightly-charred notebook. A moment later, a smaller object drifted gently down onto the pages: a bowtie.
The boxes, their contents, and several more bricks from the now-sundered wall gathered together at the edge of the crater. Nu was still near them, but even fainter than before, its mouth moving silently. The sky was now black, and any grass there had been in the field was withered and dead; the soil was drying and cracking, the air tasted stale and foul, and there was a general feeling of disrepair and decay pervading everything.
The boxes shook for a moment, Vyrm'n temporarily forgotten.
Gestalt was ill-equipped to deal with this.