Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
11-01-2009, 04:42 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Different time, same space. A rift of darkness tore through the complex, its lightless countenance the unfortunate end of every mortal who crossed its rampaging path.
The unsuited ones were lucky, in some ways, as if they had been stranded in the real darkness, the real cosmic emptiness; instead of this piece of it which flew through the corridors remorselessly harbringing swift death.
At least you died relatively painlessly, suitless - not an agonising extension dictated to mock your shred of existence while all the while tortuously extending it. If you had your suit on, you'd learn the unfortunate truth that this piece of space had teeth.
It was just one of those things Vyrm'n had learnt from Vyrm. Although this was an age of lasers and projectiles and biowarfare in lieu of swords and knives, there was still little more effective at tearing open an airtight suit than an atom-thin blade-edge.
Vyrm had known it as common sense, and so in turn did Vyrm'n. Now Assistant Sampling Technician Tobias Withers knew it also as the Faceless deftly slashed open his suit, peeling back the now-indiscernible layers of insulation and skin and ultralight-armour and ribcage searching for the answer.
But of course, he had no idea. He was just an Assistant Sampling Technician. He was incapable of even offering an inkling of a suggestion as to why nobody had ever heard of the void which swelled the Faceless, threatening to cast its fragile spark of sentience into the pitch where it would fade into nothing.
Panic swelled and redefined Vyrm'n's psyche, punctuating its identity's song with discordant cymbal-clashes of mental agony. As Tobias Withers, in his dying breath, wordlessly sang his life story to Vyrm'n and Vyrm'n alone, the shadow listened desperately for a cue, some addendum which it could find the solace of truth and certainty in.
If the matter which had comprised Tobias had known the answer, it refused to divulge it to Vyrm'n. Trembling with frustration, the Faceless' extended black arm extended further, right through his chest, and tossed the boy down the hallway. A scream punctuated Vyrm'n's thoughts, with a fluid rush it flowed through a gun-barrel-sized gap in a barricade and flooded Fay Cudgel, Chief of Research's quarters.
A bright bolt of plasma rifle greeted Vyrm'n as it entered, scorching a hole clean through the black. Without skipping a beat, the Faceless reached out almost reflexively and slapped the gun from Doctor Cudgel's shaking grip. The tentacle of darkness responsible then proceeded to slip sinuously round her neck, Vyrm'n lifting her a good four, five feet off the ground.
Jumbled, incoherent thought lanced up the limb into Angela's mind.
Whatsgoingonwhydoesn'tVyrmknowaboutthevoidI'mscare dItdoesntmakesenseandIjustwanttoknow-
If Fay was not extremely terrified for her life, she would've found the Faceless' thought processes thoroughly fascinating and the source of many more enjoyable years' research on the being. As it was, she was more preoccupied with grabbing a syringe of some description and stabbing it into the strangling limb.
Vyrm'n recoiled, stung; failing to understand how the scientist was incapable of understanding the Faceless' request. This time, Vyrm'n reached out more slowly, less violently; yet Fay still scrambled away into the furthest corner of the room as fast as she was able, desperate to escape from the shadow's clutches. The shadow reached out...
Fay involuntarily drew a breath as the Faceless made contact. In contrast to the rush of uncontrolled though which had assailed her earlier, the new force which lay beneath the star-speckled surface seemed so much more savage, uncaring, boundless, and empty than she ever could've imagined anything in the universe to be.
The song of her existence sang into the endlessness, the vast lack of anything which was punctuated only with the tiny, insignificant blooms of matter that were expanding universes. Her atomic voice chanted as stridently as it could into the emptiness, becoming thinner and tenuous as the insignificance of it to the whole became more and more apparent in Fay's dissipating soul. By the end of it, her eyes had seen the cradle and grave of a thousand universes, and they couldn't care less that this one human had watched it all.
In the face of such infinite disinterest, it was little wonder her matter was shamed into silence. With a silent cry, the atoms comprising Fay Cudgel let out one last half-hearted keen before falling silent. The woman's form collapsed into subatomic dust.
Vyrm'n, again, listened desperately for some titbit of information which would help its confused mind unravel the mystery of that awful, empty desolation. But whatever it was, Fay's remnants would sing no more. Still shivering with frustration, the Faceless tore apart the barricade and went soaring off in the next nearest source of sentient song.
Different time, same space. A rift of darkness tore through the complex, its lightless countenance the unfortunate end of every mortal who crossed its rampaging path.
The unsuited ones were lucky, in some ways, as if they had been stranded in the real darkness, the real cosmic emptiness; instead of this piece of it which flew through the corridors remorselessly harbringing swift death.
At least you died relatively painlessly, suitless - not an agonising extension dictated to mock your shred of existence while all the while tortuously extending it. If you had your suit on, you'd learn the unfortunate truth that this piece of space had teeth.
It was just one of those things Vyrm'n had learnt from Vyrm. Although this was an age of lasers and projectiles and biowarfare in lieu of swords and knives, there was still little more effective at tearing open an airtight suit than an atom-thin blade-edge.
Vyrm had known it as common sense, and so in turn did Vyrm'n. Now Assistant Sampling Technician Tobias Withers knew it also as the Faceless deftly slashed open his suit, peeling back the now-indiscernible layers of insulation and skin and ultralight-armour and ribcage searching for the answer.
But of course, he had no idea. He was just an Assistant Sampling Technician. He was incapable of even offering an inkling of a suggestion as to why nobody had ever heard of the void which swelled the Faceless, threatening to cast its fragile spark of sentience into the pitch where it would fade into nothing.
Panic swelled and redefined Vyrm'n's psyche, punctuating its identity's song with discordant cymbal-clashes of mental agony. As Tobias Withers, in his dying breath, wordlessly sang his life story to Vyrm'n and Vyrm'n alone, the shadow listened desperately for a cue, some addendum which it could find the solace of truth and certainty in.
If the matter which had comprised Tobias had known the answer, it refused to divulge it to Vyrm'n. Trembling with frustration, the Faceless' extended black arm extended further, right through his chest, and tossed the boy down the hallway. A scream punctuated Vyrm'n's thoughts, with a fluid rush it flowed through a gun-barrel-sized gap in a barricade and flooded Fay Cudgel, Chief of Research's quarters.
A bright bolt of plasma rifle greeted Vyrm'n as it entered, scorching a hole clean through the black. Without skipping a beat, the Faceless reached out almost reflexively and slapped the gun from Doctor Cudgel's shaking grip. The tentacle of darkness responsible then proceeded to slip sinuously round her neck, Vyrm'n lifting her a good four, five feet off the ground.
Jumbled, incoherent thought lanced up the limb into Angela's mind.
Whatsgoingonwhydoesn'tVyrmknowaboutthevoidI'mscare dItdoesntmakesenseandIjustwanttoknow-
If Fay was not extremely terrified for her life, she would've found the Faceless' thought processes thoroughly fascinating and the source of many more enjoyable years' research on the being. As it was, she was more preoccupied with grabbing a syringe of some description and stabbing it into the strangling limb.
Vyrm'n recoiled, stung; failing to understand how the scientist was incapable of understanding the Faceless' request. This time, Vyrm'n reached out more slowly, less violently; yet Fay still scrambled away into the furthest corner of the room as fast as she was able, desperate to escape from the shadow's clutches. The shadow reached out...
Fay involuntarily drew a breath as the Faceless made contact. In contrast to the rush of uncontrolled though which had assailed her earlier, the new force which lay beneath the star-speckled surface seemed so much more savage, uncaring, boundless, and empty than she ever could've imagined anything in the universe to be.
The song of her existence sang into the endlessness, the vast lack of anything which was punctuated only with the tiny, insignificant blooms of matter that were expanding universes. Her atomic voice chanted as stridently as it could into the emptiness, becoming thinner and tenuous as the insignificance of it to the whole became more and more apparent in Fay's dissipating soul. By the end of it, her eyes had seen the cradle and grave of a thousand universes, and they couldn't care less that this one human had watched it all.
In the face of such infinite disinterest, it was little wonder her matter was shamed into silence. With a silent cry, the atoms comprising Fay Cudgel let out one last half-hearted keen before falling silent. The woman's form collapsed into subatomic dust.
Vyrm'n, again, listened desperately for some titbit of information which would help its confused mind unravel the mystery of that awful, empty desolation. But whatever it was, Fay's remnants would sing no more. Still shivering with frustration, the Faceless tore apart the barricade and went soaring off in the next nearest source of sentient song.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow