Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 2: Destructo World!]
10-10-2009, 06:46 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.
Cabaret's subconcious was doing a better job than he was at checking up on the world around him. Alerted to the fact that there very much was another presence in the vicinity, the magician whisked round, to be met by the sight of a rather well-worn greatcoat, a sight that calmed him slightly - it was, on balance, a lot better than what his imagination had put foward. He looked up.
"I'd like to ask a favour of you, Cabaret," said Maxwell. "Come with me."
With that, Maxwell was off like a shot. Curiousity piqued, Cabaret followed suit, down the midway, away from the death-hole arcade, past a smorgasbord of supposedly sinister attractions, until finally...
"Right, now... what do you make of this?"
It appeared that Maxwell's attention had been caught by nothing more than a sign, barely attached to the rainbow tent it was advertising. Though a little smudged, it was still readable and Cabaret had no real trouble discerning what it was. The sign proclaimed boldly that this tent was home to the strongest man in the world, the aptly named Hercule. Accompanying the text was a picture of the assumed strong man mimicking Atlas by holding up the globe, along with another portrayal of the man wrestling a lion.
"Is there something about this sign that strikes you as a little... odd? Is there not something that is not quite right about it?"
"Erm... no? I don't see anything the matter with it. The text reads alright, there's no missing letters, the pictures seem alright... erm..."
But suddenly there was no sign of the curious character. Cabaret spun round a couple of times, but no... there was a piece of paper, hastily torn from a notebook of some sort, lying on the ground behind him. Inquisitive, he procured it and perused the scribbles it displayed:
Here's one for you, Cabaret: who is us? Odd is it not that there are more than one - the is not the (excuse my terrible logic), in more cases than one.
Cabaret hadn't the faintest idea what on earth that meant.
Cabaret's subconcious was doing a better job than he was at checking up on the world around him. Alerted to the fact that there very much was another presence in the vicinity, the magician whisked round, to be met by the sight of a rather well-worn greatcoat, a sight that calmed him slightly - it was, on balance, a lot better than what his imagination had put foward. He looked up.
"I'd like to ask a favour of you, Cabaret," said Maxwell. "Come with me."
With that, Maxwell was off like a shot. Curiousity piqued, Cabaret followed suit, down the midway, away from the death-hole arcade, past a smorgasbord of supposedly sinister attractions, until finally...
"Right, now... what do you make of this?"
It appeared that Maxwell's attention had been caught by nothing more than a sign, barely attached to the rainbow tent it was advertising. Though a little smudged, it was still readable and Cabaret had no real trouble discerning what it was. The sign proclaimed boldly that this tent was home to the strongest man in the world, the aptly named Hercule. Accompanying the text was a picture of the assumed strong man mimicking Atlas by holding up the globe, along with another portrayal of the man wrestling a lion.
"Is there something about this sign that strikes you as a little... odd? Is there not something that is not quite right about it?"
"Erm... no? I don't see anything the matter with it. The text reads alright, there's no missing letters, the pictures seem alright... erm..."
But suddenly there was no sign of the curious character. Cabaret spun round a couple of times, but no... there was a piece of paper, hastily torn from a notebook of some sort, lying on the ground behind him. Inquisitive, he procured it and perused the scribbles it displayed:
Here's one for you, Cabaret: who is us? Odd is it not that there are more than one - the is not the (excuse my terrible logic), in more cases than one.
Cabaret hadn't the faintest idea what on earth that meant.