Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 2: Destructo World!]
10-17-2009, 04:38 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.
The rain was quite soothing to the Balancer, even if the most he could feel of it was the cold liquid running over his coils and tendrils. The rain always presented a sort of clarity to him, a kind of natural purity that left everything after its fall pure and refreshed. Everything under the glare of light and water was left gleaming and sparkling, pepper-polished and beautiful. It was times like these that The Sunset could really relax, even in a hellish place like this.
He sat down on a bench and remained seated, relaxing himself against the sturdy wood, letting himself become metal coated with rain for a little while. Blending with nature, even an impure nature, was a relief to the being.
He considered what had been said to him by the Faceless. That its purpose was not served well by aiding him. It was frustrating, to be sure. Vyrm'n simply does not understand that Samuel's continued existence threatens everyone here.
But for now those thoughts were pushed away, and he relaxed. Breathing as deeply as the bound Balancer still could, it thought back to years before.
-------------
The year was irrelevant, and all The Sunset knew was the thrill of the hunt.
Not bound to a suit, not bound to a perpetual death, the Balancer was young and powerful and surging with the combined coils of a thousand celestial batteries. He flickered and darted through the atmosphere of a green-purple world, his black, sinuous body untethered and free. Limbs reshaped themselves and flowed across one another like liquid metal, purple cores and vast amounts of energy swirling in with it like a kind of sentient force of nature.
He skipped at hundreds of miles an hour, parts of him seeming to dash off and blend with the wind as he ran, no, flew across the planet's terrain. Nothing was free of his gaze. And nothing would stop him from reaching his target.
Eventually he would come upon a large city, spaceworthy vehicles flying about massive skyscrapers. He descended into this place and made a lookout through the neon glow for his contact, a Cylaxian man of rather high descent who found a lucrative business assisting Balancers. Shifting his form in and out of traffic, he found a massive pipe after a few minutes of looking, dripping with water and free of the public eye. He slammed his form inside, and then paused on the watery trail, standing up.
He was massive. Eight feet tall and constantly swirling, four purple globes swirling through the semi-liquid 'head' atop his torso. Arms shaped like massive, shifting scythes constantly reshaped into various dark appendages. Legs like windswept dunes of iron, and a constant, shifting, purple pulse emanating from his being. His contact was at the far end of the tunnel, and approached, a thin grin spreading across two sets of orange lips, the skattering and clacking of eight carapaced legs masked dully by his trenchcoat.
"I see you've arrived, Sunset. I came as soon as I heard you'd be planetward. What is it that you require?" Spoke the Cylaxian, in a voice overlaid with crackling and scissoring coming from within his insect-like form.
"I seek knowledge of a woman known as the Mechanic. She has been gathering power, I do not know from where, and is becoming a danger to the natural balance of power on this world."
His voice was not, at this time, the booming and echoic thing it was in its ancient years. It was young, cocky, and full of vigor, slathering those who heard it in a kind of steel envelope.
"You're right to suspect this, Balancer. The Mechanic, as you called her, is a woman named Myradella Slitherhorn. Her trade is that of military grade power armor, and lately, from my sources, I've heard she's hit on a big one. Some new power source that she says is going to make her armor infinitely better than competitors. Rumor has it that she's got a new prototype all to herself, and that she plans on giving it a, ah, test run."
The Sunset raised a brow and chuckled. "A new power source, hm? Do tell. It's likely something I've heard of before. What is it? Voidal warping? Nuclear fission? Super-solar? Don't tell me it's one of those damn-"
The Cylaxian interrupted. "No, Sunset, I think you'll be genuinely interested this time. She says she's found a way to tap into the very power that your friend The Boundless uses." He grinned.
The Sunset blinked, and was silenced. For a moment, an indomitable being seemed very emasculated indeed.
"The Boundless? That's impossible! The old man is a harvester of souls, not energy!" He seemed genuinely worried about this accusation, and was a tinge upset this black market man would even suggest such a thing.
"But she has. She says that the force he wields with such deftness can be done clumsily using her own power and the power of this machine. She calls it Ceron. Some just call it Karma, as its what, well, most of the people she's testing this thing on had it coming."
-----------
The Sunset remained totally silent, sitting rain slathered on the park bench. His inner thoughts were unreadable.
The rain was quite soothing to the Balancer, even if the most he could feel of it was the cold liquid running over his coils and tendrils. The rain always presented a sort of clarity to him, a kind of natural purity that left everything after its fall pure and refreshed. Everything under the glare of light and water was left gleaming and sparkling, pepper-polished and beautiful. It was times like these that The Sunset could really relax, even in a hellish place like this.
He sat down on a bench and remained seated, relaxing himself against the sturdy wood, letting himself become metal coated with rain for a little while. Blending with nature, even an impure nature, was a relief to the being.
He considered what had been said to him by the Faceless. That its purpose was not served well by aiding him. It was frustrating, to be sure. Vyrm'n simply does not understand that Samuel's continued existence threatens everyone here.
But for now those thoughts were pushed away, and he relaxed. Breathing as deeply as the bound Balancer still could, it thought back to years before.
-------------
The year was irrelevant, and all The Sunset knew was the thrill of the hunt.
Not bound to a suit, not bound to a perpetual death, the Balancer was young and powerful and surging with the combined coils of a thousand celestial batteries. He flickered and darted through the atmosphere of a green-purple world, his black, sinuous body untethered and free. Limbs reshaped themselves and flowed across one another like liquid metal, purple cores and vast amounts of energy swirling in with it like a kind of sentient force of nature.
He skipped at hundreds of miles an hour, parts of him seeming to dash off and blend with the wind as he ran, no, flew across the planet's terrain. Nothing was free of his gaze. And nothing would stop him from reaching his target.
Eventually he would come upon a large city, spaceworthy vehicles flying about massive skyscrapers. He descended into this place and made a lookout through the neon glow for his contact, a Cylaxian man of rather high descent who found a lucrative business assisting Balancers. Shifting his form in and out of traffic, he found a massive pipe after a few minutes of looking, dripping with water and free of the public eye. He slammed his form inside, and then paused on the watery trail, standing up.
He was massive. Eight feet tall and constantly swirling, four purple globes swirling through the semi-liquid 'head' atop his torso. Arms shaped like massive, shifting scythes constantly reshaped into various dark appendages. Legs like windswept dunes of iron, and a constant, shifting, purple pulse emanating from his being. His contact was at the far end of the tunnel, and approached, a thin grin spreading across two sets of orange lips, the skattering and clacking of eight carapaced legs masked dully by his trenchcoat.
"I see you've arrived, Sunset. I came as soon as I heard you'd be planetward. What is it that you require?" Spoke the Cylaxian, in a voice overlaid with crackling and scissoring coming from within his insect-like form.
"I seek knowledge of a woman known as the Mechanic. She has been gathering power, I do not know from where, and is becoming a danger to the natural balance of power on this world."
His voice was not, at this time, the booming and echoic thing it was in its ancient years. It was young, cocky, and full of vigor, slathering those who heard it in a kind of steel envelope.
"You're right to suspect this, Balancer. The Mechanic, as you called her, is a woman named Myradella Slitherhorn. Her trade is that of military grade power armor, and lately, from my sources, I've heard she's hit on a big one. Some new power source that she says is going to make her armor infinitely better than competitors. Rumor has it that she's got a new prototype all to herself, and that she plans on giving it a, ah, test run."
The Sunset raised a brow and chuckled. "A new power source, hm? Do tell. It's likely something I've heard of before. What is it? Voidal warping? Nuclear fission? Super-solar? Don't tell me it's one of those damn-"
The Cylaxian interrupted. "No, Sunset, I think you'll be genuinely interested this time. She says she's found a way to tap into the very power that your friend The Boundless uses." He grinned.
The Sunset blinked, and was silenced. For a moment, an indomitable being seemed very emasculated indeed.
"The Boundless? That's impossible! The old man is a harvester of souls, not energy!" He seemed genuinely worried about this accusation, and was a tinge upset this black market man would even suggest such a thing.
"But she has. She says that the force he wields with such deftness can be done clumsily using her own power and the power of this machine. She calls it Ceron. Some just call it Karma, as its what, well, most of the people she's testing this thing on had it coming."
-----------
The Sunset remained totally silent, sitting rain slathered on the park bench. His inner thoughts were unreadable.