Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 2: Destructo World!]
10-13-2009, 06:49 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.
Within the human mind swirls an ocean of memories. Fresh experiences and new ideas constantly trickle down to join this depthless mass. Happier times and joyous occasions rise to the surface, sparkling, giving the onlooker a vision of hope and frivolity. Darker memories, painful, unpleasant shocks from a worrisome existence sink to the bottom of the sea, obscured from the light of recognition, laid to rest in the darkness of fear and regret. In such a turbulent sea, however, few things can prevent the resurgence of memories one would have preferred to forget. Such it was with Maxwell Deakin when he recalled the words spoken to him by the Karmist, Samuel Therion.
Somewhere inside that creature is a song that sings the joy of killing.
-------
Earlier…
Now where's that tent and where's Cabaret…?
Maxwell darted out of the restroom, the unpleasant deed finished, and began to head towards where he believed his one human compatriot could be found. He approached a large wooden post, at the top of which stood a beaten up horn speaker, one of many in the park. The speaker blasted a cacophonous noise. At one time, it may have resembled a jovial song, lifting the spirits of happy visitors and chasing away the worries of the outside world. Now, like the rest of the park, its tune was harsh, unwelcoming. Paired with the cacophony from rest of the park, it formed the kind of noise that would make a man grind his teeth down to the gums. However, in the seclusion of Maxwell's mind the notes of the harsh song were rearranged. The genius' mind twisted, turned and rewrote the song to form a soft pleasing medley which soothed Maxwell as he continued his search.
Off to the right Maxwell spotted a large tent, a likely spot for the strong man event. He turned a quick corner past a well lit hotdog stand and suddenly a new sound interrupted his chorus. It was a gasp from Maxwell, a quick inhalation brought on by a sudden shock. Before the genius stood Samuel Therion. The Karmist's white grin gleamed at Maxwell, his dark suit as deep and penetrating as the black pillar of the Faceless.
A new, more primitive form of logic took over the genius' mind. Fight or Flight. Maxwell raced through the possible outcomes of both choices.
He was waiting, perhaps, not but, his posture, that grin, He wants something from me. He'll follow.
To the left , no, walls, back again…I'd lose my chance. Into a building…deathtrap.
This man, the garden. The golem…he was defeated, bruised beaten battered. Simple objects, no real skill. He lost. He can lose. Could I win?
My skill, his skill. What is his skill? Unknowns dangerous but the known…he lost…he can lose again.
Yes. This is my best chance.
Maxwell, determined, reached into his greatcoat and withdrew the elegant rapier. He poised himself perfectly, an offensive position. When the Faceless had projected him into the garden, Maxwell had seen this man lose to a simple pile of household objects, flying about, beating him senseless. The Karmist was forced to use The Sunset to escape. Something terrible had happened to the Sunset after that, Vyrm'n had told him that much. Perhaps though such a outcome was not guaranteed if a mere man fought against him.
“So you wish to fight me, boy?†The Karmist sneered.
The taunt was lost on Maxwell. He had retreated back into his mind. The music changed to a waltz, and Maxwell approached the man with the wicked grin.
Maxwell started with a quick jab at the Karmist's chest. Samuel casually stepped to the side. The sword then swung to the right. Samuel stepped back. Next, a short slice from above. Samuel turned sideways. In rapid succession, right, left, down. Samuel dodged, back, under, right. Maxwell feinted a quick slice, but switched midswing to a rightward blow to where the Karmist would dodge. Samuel stood still, and the blade cut nothing but air.
This is wrong. He sees my moves. How? I should confirm.
Maxwell followed with two feints and a jab. Samuel remained motionless for the first two, grinning unceasingly at Maxwell. At the jab Samuel stepped to the right and then ran right past Maxwell.
“You seem confused, boy.†The Karmist said, standing back to back with the frustrated genius, “I suggest you put that weapon away. It will not do you any good, besides, I did not come here to fight.â€
Maxwell tightened the grip on his sword, despite a small feeling of relief at the Karmist's words he was not about to trust this man.
“What is it you want?â€
“An exchange of information, that is all. I will ask you a question, and you may answer truthfully if you wish. Then you may ask me a question, and I will answer truthfully if I am inclined to do so.â€
Maxwell was surprised by how much the offer intrigued him. Here lied an opportunity to both acquire information from a foe and potentially lead them on the wrong track. However, the information garnered could be completely fallacious, and the whole experience a useless waste of time. Yet, if he was wasting his time, he wastes the Karmist's time as well. Perhaps such an exchange would be useful.
“Fine,†Maxwell finally stated, “what question do you have?â€
“A simple one, tell me boy, what was it like, bonding with that beast known as The Faceless?â€
Maxwell hesitated. A myriad of questions flooded his mind, Vyrm'n? What does he want with Vyrm'n? He saw me in the garden…how did he know it was The Faceless? Lie…I doubt...Harm? I suppose if I could I…
“Well?†The Karmist interrupted the torrent of thoughts.
“Song.†Maxwell blurted out the stream of memory surging up in him. “The world was song, each and every part…reality…uncertain, questionable…a void…a dark void, keeping reality at bay. Pain is real, but not real, undistinguishable without help. Able to hear much but nothing was heard. So much noise, so many songs. Much like…†Maxwell pointed to the loudspeaker strung atop the wooden pole. “Unbearable and beautiful at the same time.â€
Samuel chuckled, “Song, hm? I think I understand now. Yes, there are many songs in the world of that beast.†Samuel paused, then turned to face the genius swordsman. “I would not remain in the company of that creature for much longer, if I were you boy. I made a connection with it myself, twice in fact, once in the garden when it destroyed the last of the orbs, and once in this place, where I lead it to me and it sought to render me unconscious. I felt something familiar in The Faceless. Somewhere inside that creature is a song that sings the joy of killing. I suppose you have seen a glimpse of that already though.â€
Samuel stood staring at Maxwell, grinning. The swordsman was unsettled; he had given out more information than he had wished to. For someone such as him the line between what is said and what is thought often blurs. There was, however, one thing Maxwell had managed to keep hidden from the Karmist. In fact, it was something Maxwell had been trying to hide from himself. Deep, within the darkest corners of his being, in the more unreachable places, Maxwell still heard the song of Vyrm'n. During his time inside the Faceless some unseen bond had been formed between the two of them. Some unknown part of the Faceless now resided in Maxwell's being. This perhaps, was a large reason Maxwell had avoided Vyrm'n this round. He may continue to ignore it indefinitely.
The genius then snapped up and looked at the Karmist. His turn to inquire of his opponent had come, and the question he would ask was obvious. It would provide him with the most valuable information, and had the highest chance of yielding a truthful answer.
“Now, how exactly does your power work?â€
Samuel's grin faded for an instant, and then resurfaced once more. Maxwell was relying on the Karmist's ego to help him display his superiority in some way. It appeared to work.
“A wise question boy.†Samuel began. “Allow me to show you a bit. See that raven over there?†Samuel motioned to one of several large black birds perched on the edge of the hotdog stand. A few of the picked apart at a discarded bun, while the others stood there, staring off into the blackness of the night. “They are marvelous birds really, I have taken quite a liking to them. They are not quite scavengers, yet not quite predators. In the lore of birds they are despised as harbingers of death yet they soar to higher heights than any human does.†Samuel walked towards the group of birds, arm outstretched towards one in particular. The fingers on his hand bent and turned as if he was a puppeteer playing with fresh strings. As he approached all but the one raven launched from their perch and fluttered away to other parts. Samuel walked directly before the bird, and gently placed one hand beneath it, lifting it up from underneath. With his other hand, Samuel stroked the birds head. “A marvelous bird,†said the Karmist, He closed his eyes and ran one hand from the top of the raven's head, down its back and off its tail.
“This one, is a mother. Or rather, she will be. She will lay her eggs and feed her young and they will grow strong and have families of their own. One day, in a fight for food, a larger bird will strike her down, and her life will end. I can see the story of her death as clearly as you can see me before you. I can feel where death will be, has been, and would not have been. It allows me to sense life, for all life is but a step away from death, and it allows me to sense danger. This place is full of the latter. Even your blade, I could see exactly where the death your blade brings would land before you even knew you would place it there…†the Karmist paused and a worried look crossed his face “though that sort of perception does not seem to work when that Schrotgolem is involved…†the grin returned, and he continued, “Do not think though, boy, that my power is limited to the perception of death. No, I am a Karmist. Karma is an energy that permeates all things. It is a force that on the universal scale seeks balance, but on a limited scale, can be manipulated quite easily.†The hand holding the bird tightened, and the hand that had been petting the creature wrapped about the raven's head. “Karmic transactions require two things, a channel, and a sacrifice. As my channel is death, It oftentimes goes hand in hand with the sacrifice. This bird is destined to live, to soar in the sky, as are the children she will have. Karma has given them the gift of flight for the course of their lives.â€
Maxwell cringed as a dull crack shot out from inside the Karmist's clenched hand. Samuel released his hand and the head of the raven hung limply to the side. Her dark glossy eyes were now nothing more than lifeless beads. The bird fell to the ground with a unceremonious thud.
Then, the Karmist began to lift off the ground. “Now that gift,†Samuel spoke, “is mine.†Maxwell stared agape at the man who now hovered several feet off the ground. It breaks all the rules. No force…nothing can do that…I..
“It's not perfect though.†the Karmist continued, as he began to ease towards the ground, “I cannot harvest all of the power in a single life, and for such a small being, the effects are only temporary. Also, for the most part, I can only get one prize out of one death. †The Karmist landed on the ground. “Do not worry. I would need to kill a vast multitude of animals such as those if I wished to make flight a normal and effective part of my repertoire.†Samuel turned from Maxwell and began to walk away. Almost as a passing thought, the Karmist turned around and added a bit more, “It is fascinating how different worlds combine with one another. In my wildest dreams I would have never imagined I would meet a machine that is fueled off of a dying being. There is so much potential there, it is a pity he wishes to kill me. Even the two fools, Galus and the magician, made a lovely pair in the first round. Nor would I have thought such a creature as the Faceless could exist, or that contemptible golem for that matter.†Samuel turned back around and continued to walk away. “I wonder what you will add to all this, boy.â€
With that, Maxwell was alone. The pathway to the tent was now opened and the unpleasant memory of the his encounter with the Karmist had already begun dissection. The valuable parts glistened on the surface of Maxwell's sea of memory, while the more ominous ones suck to the dark depths below.
Within the human mind swirls an ocean of memories. Fresh experiences and new ideas constantly trickle down to join this depthless mass. Happier times and joyous occasions rise to the surface, sparkling, giving the onlooker a vision of hope and frivolity. Darker memories, painful, unpleasant shocks from a worrisome existence sink to the bottom of the sea, obscured from the light of recognition, laid to rest in the darkness of fear and regret. In such a turbulent sea, however, few things can prevent the resurgence of memories one would have preferred to forget. Such it was with Maxwell Deakin when he recalled the words spoken to him by the Karmist, Samuel Therion.
Somewhere inside that creature is a song that sings the joy of killing.
-------
Earlier…
Now where's that tent and where's Cabaret…?
Maxwell darted out of the restroom, the unpleasant deed finished, and began to head towards where he believed his one human compatriot could be found. He approached a large wooden post, at the top of which stood a beaten up horn speaker, one of many in the park. The speaker blasted a cacophonous noise. At one time, it may have resembled a jovial song, lifting the spirits of happy visitors and chasing away the worries of the outside world. Now, like the rest of the park, its tune was harsh, unwelcoming. Paired with the cacophony from rest of the park, it formed the kind of noise that would make a man grind his teeth down to the gums. However, in the seclusion of Maxwell's mind the notes of the harsh song were rearranged. The genius' mind twisted, turned and rewrote the song to form a soft pleasing medley which soothed Maxwell as he continued his search.
Off to the right Maxwell spotted a large tent, a likely spot for the strong man event. He turned a quick corner past a well lit hotdog stand and suddenly a new sound interrupted his chorus. It was a gasp from Maxwell, a quick inhalation brought on by a sudden shock. Before the genius stood Samuel Therion. The Karmist's white grin gleamed at Maxwell, his dark suit as deep and penetrating as the black pillar of the Faceless.
A new, more primitive form of logic took over the genius' mind. Fight or Flight. Maxwell raced through the possible outcomes of both choices.
He was waiting, perhaps, not but, his posture, that grin, He wants something from me. He'll follow.
To the left , no, walls, back again…I'd lose my chance. Into a building…deathtrap.
This man, the garden. The golem…he was defeated, bruised beaten battered. Simple objects, no real skill. He lost. He can lose. Could I win?
My skill, his skill. What is his skill? Unknowns dangerous but the known…he lost…he can lose again.
Yes. This is my best chance.
Maxwell, determined, reached into his greatcoat and withdrew the elegant rapier. He poised himself perfectly, an offensive position. When the Faceless had projected him into the garden, Maxwell had seen this man lose to a simple pile of household objects, flying about, beating him senseless. The Karmist was forced to use The Sunset to escape. Something terrible had happened to the Sunset after that, Vyrm'n had told him that much. Perhaps though such a outcome was not guaranteed if a mere man fought against him.
“So you wish to fight me, boy?†The Karmist sneered.
The taunt was lost on Maxwell. He had retreated back into his mind. The music changed to a waltz, and Maxwell approached the man with the wicked grin.
Maxwell started with a quick jab at the Karmist's chest. Samuel casually stepped to the side. The sword then swung to the right. Samuel stepped back. Next, a short slice from above. Samuel turned sideways. In rapid succession, right, left, down. Samuel dodged, back, under, right. Maxwell feinted a quick slice, but switched midswing to a rightward blow to where the Karmist would dodge. Samuel stood still, and the blade cut nothing but air.
This is wrong. He sees my moves. How? I should confirm.
Maxwell followed with two feints and a jab. Samuel remained motionless for the first two, grinning unceasingly at Maxwell. At the jab Samuel stepped to the right and then ran right past Maxwell.
“You seem confused, boy.†The Karmist said, standing back to back with the frustrated genius, “I suggest you put that weapon away. It will not do you any good, besides, I did not come here to fight.â€
Maxwell tightened the grip on his sword, despite a small feeling of relief at the Karmist's words he was not about to trust this man.
“What is it you want?â€
“An exchange of information, that is all. I will ask you a question, and you may answer truthfully if you wish. Then you may ask me a question, and I will answer truthfully if I am inclined to do so.â€
Maxwell was surprised by how much the offer intrigued him. Here lied an opportunity to both acquire information from a foe and potentially lead them on the wrong track. However, the information garnered could be completely fallacious, and the whole experience a useless waste of time. Yet, if he was wasting his time, he wastes the Karmist's time as well. Perhaps such an exchange would be useful.
“Fine,†Maxwell finally stated, “what question do you have?â€
“A simple one, tell me boy, what was it like, bonding with that beast known as The Faceless?â€
Maxwell hesitated. A myriad of questions flooded his mind, Vyrm'n? What does he want with Vyrm'n? He saw me in the garden…how did he know it was The Faceless? Lie…I doubt...Harm? I suppose if I could I…
“Well?†The Karmist interrupted the torrent of thoughts.
“Song.†Maxwell blurted out the stream of memory surging up in him. “The world was song, each and every part…reality…uncertain, questionable…a void…a dark void, keeping reality at bay. Pain is real, but not real, undistinguishable without help. Able to hear much but nothing was heard. So much noise, so many songs. Much like…†Maxwell pointed to the loudspeaker strung atop the wooden pole. “Unbearable and beautiful at the same time.â€
Samuel chuckled, “Song, hm? I think I understand now. Yes, there are many songs in the world of that beast.†Samuel paused, then turned to face the genius swordsman. “I would not remain in the company of that creature for much longer, if I were you boy. I made a connection with it myself, twice in fact, once in the garden when it destroyed the last of the orbs, and once in this place, where I lead it to me and it sought to render me unconscious. I felt something familiar in The Faceless. Somewhere inside that creature is a song that sings the joy of killing. I suppose you have seen a glimpse of that already though.â€
Samuel stood staring at Maxwell, grinning. The swordsman was unsettled; he had given out more information than he had wished to. For someone such as him the line between what is said and what is thought often blurs. There was, however, one thing Maxwell had managed to keep hidden from the Karmist. In fact, it was something Maxwell had been trying to hide from himself. Deep, within the darkest corners of his being, in the more unreachable places, Maxwell still heard the song of Vyrm'n. During his time inside the Faceless some unseen bond had been formed between the two of them. Some unknown part of the Faceless now resided in Maxwell's being. This perhaps, was a large reason Maxwell had avoided Vyrm'n this round. He may continue to ignore it indefinitely.
The genius then snapped up and looked at the Karmist. His turn to inquire of his opponent had come, and the question he would ask was obvious. It would provide him with the most valuable information, and had the highest chance of yielding a truthful answer.
“Now, how exactly does your power work?â€
Samuel's grin faded for an instant, and then resurfaced once more. Maxwell was relying on the Karmist's ego to help him display his superiority in some way. It appeared to work.
“A wise question boy.†Samuel began. “Allow me to show you a bit. See that raven over there?†Samuel motioned to one of several large black birds perched on the edge of the hotdog stand. A few of the picked apart at a discarded bun, while the others stood there, staring off into the blackness of the night. “They are marvelous birds really, I have taken quite a liking to them. They are not quite scavengers, yet not quite predators. In the lore of birds they are despised as harbingers of death yet they soar to higher heights than any human does.†Samuel walked towards the group of birds, arm outstretched towards one in particular. The fingers on his hand bent and turned as if he was a puppeteer playing with fresh strings. As he approached all but the one raven launched from their perch and fluttered away to other parts. Samuel walked directly before the bird, and gently placed one hand beneath it, lifting it up from underneath. With his other hand, Samuel stroked the birds head. “A marvelous bird,†said the Karmist, He closed his eyes and ran one hand from the top of the raven's head, down its back and off its tail.
“This one, is a mother. Or rather, she will be. She will lay her eggs and feed her young and they will grow strong and have families of their own. One day, in a fight for food, a larger bird will strike her down, and her life will end. I can see the story of her death as clearly as you can see me before you. I can feel where death will be, has been, and would not have been. It allows me to sense life, for all life is but a step away from death, and it allows me to sense danger. This place is full of the latter. Even your blade, I could see exactly where the death your blade brings would land before you even knew you would place it there…†the Karmist paused and a worried look crossed his face “though that sort of perception does not seem to work when that Schrotgolem is involved…†the grin returned, and he continued, “Do not think though, boy, that my power is limited to the perception of death. No, I am a Karmist. Karma is an energy that permeates all things. It is a force that on the universal scale seeks balance, but on a limited scale, can be manipulated quite easily.†The hand holding the bird tightened, and the hand that had been petting the creature wrapped about the raven's head. “Karmic transactions require two things, a channel, and a sacrifice. As my channel is death, It oftentimes goes hand in hand with the sacrifice. This bird is destined to live, to soar in the sky, as are the children she will have. Karma has given them the gift of flight for the course of their lives.â€
Maxwell cringed as a dull crack shot out from inside the Karmist's clenched hand. Samuel released his hand and the head of the raven hung limply to the side. Her dark glossy eyes were now nothing more than lifeless beads. The bird fell to the ground with a unceremonious thud.
Then, the Karmist began to lift off the ground. “Now that gift,†Samuel spoke, “is mine.†Maxwell stared agape at the man who now hovered several feet off the ground. It breaks all the rules. No force…nothing can do that…I..
“It's not perfect though.†the Karmist continued, as he began to ease towards the ground, “I cannot harvest all of the power in a single life, and for such a small being, the effects are only temporary. Also, for the most part, I can only get one prize out of one death. †The Karmist landed on the ground. “Do not worry. I would need to kill a vast multitude of animals such as those if I wished to make flight a normal and effective part of my repertoire.†Samuel turned from Maxwell and began to walk away. Almost as a passing thought, the Karmist turned around and added a bit more, “It is fascinating how different worlds combine with one another. In my wildest dreams I would have never imagined I would meet a machine that is fueled off of a dying being. There is so much potential there, it is a pity he wishes to kill me. Even the two fools, Galus and the magician, made a lovely pair in the first round. Nor would I have thought such a creature as the Faceless could exist, or that contemptible golem for that matter.†Samuel turned back around and continued to walk away. “I wonder what you will add to all this, boy.â€
With that, Maxwell was alone. The pathway to the tent was now opened and the unpleasant memory of the his encounter with the Karmist had already begun dissection. The valuable parts glistened on the surface of Maxwell's sea of memory, while the more ominous ones suck to the dark depths below.