Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
11-24-2009, 07:03 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Vyrm'n plummeted gracefully through corridor after endless corridor, in a forever downward as gravity was subjugated by the shadow. On occasion, to acquiesce to the indomitable solidness of an impenetrable wall, the Faceless would consent to take a minor detour; but on the whole Maxwell remained Vyrm'n's source, its target, its anchor in this warped world.
With such a single-minded focus, with the odd lapse to avoid those pesky walls or solidify enough to crash through a closed door, Vyrm'n's other strange senses were free to take in what of the world it could as it all flew past.
Gestalt and Samuel, they were moving - yes. Their bastard duet stirred up an equally bastardly storm of emotions in the Faceless... None of which seemed to make sense or allow for justification in Vyrm'n's mind when brought under scrutiny. Confusion, betrayl, apprehension... but also, somehow, jealousy, anger, fear even... homesickness?
The Faceless refocussed. There would be ample time to tease out the tangle later, once Maxwell was safe and the threat eliminated.
Vyrm'n crossed an interior courtyard at terminal velocity, adorned with a marble sculpture of a gargantuan human hand wielding an enormous, alabaster chisel. This implement turned back upon the other half of the statue; rough, quarry-fresh, unpolished; and hacked the hand which grasped it out of the stone. The effect would have been beautiful if the huge hunks of gouged stone did not litter its base, the dust having barely settled before it was flurried up again by a passing Faceless, who had not the eyes nor anatomy to savour the twisted beauty for such a thing.
Galus... he was close to Maxwell. In fact, the two were right next to each other. Vyrm'n consented to change focus while the two were in proximity, if only to let the Faceless think.
Though prepared to dismiss him here and now as useless, Vyrm'n had a moment to mull it over. He knew a Faceless - another one. Doubtless no more knowledgeable than Vyrm'n itself was of the particulars of their race, but... it was a start. A first, even. As far as Vyrm had known, two Faceless had never met in the confines of any universe. Perhaps, if Galus survived this, Vyrm'n and this Luna could meet. Perhaps.
Vyrm'n was a young student of desire. With negligible critical requirements in the vein of nutrition or stimulation; and an inherent understanding that all of its emotions and the consequent thoughts they triggered in its mind were, if you will, hand-me-downs, the Faceless had taken a long time to care about anything much. The Researcher's nature of regarding every query, every exclamation and conclusion reached by Vyrm'n as something astounding and worthy of lengthy metacognition and dissection, until Vyrm'n hardly remembered what it had been thinking in the first place - well, that didn't help much either.
Its manic thirst for comprehension of its existence, to know just what exactly a Faceless was, was probably the closest thing it had. Even so, it pursued this knowledge, understanding full well that this, again, was not its desire, but Vyrm's.
Again with this... constant ruminating, Vyrm'n thought to itself, silently sighing as it reached some sort of exit and burst out to traverse an exterior wall. To its left, a watery purple sun's rays clawed desperately through a void, which encompassed numerous layers of reality for the weak light to struggle through, to reach the Faceless. The hazy remnants of monolithic islands drifted in a stately, semi-real state across this endless sky.
Vyrm'n ignored these, for Maxwell was not there, and followed the genius' song through a now-broken window.
Maxwell. Vyrm'n felt a stab of guilt at the thought of him, a wound made all the more agonising by the fact that this pain was new for the Faceless. That last round, Vyrm'n had abandoned him. And for what? To murder Cabaret. He had nary crossed the Faceless' mind all the while they were in Destructo-World. He could've died, fallen victim to the myriad traps in that hellhole.
Vyrm'n took some time to rebuild top speed after crashing through that window, switching gravity with expert timing at corners until the piece of night could not move any faster. Another pulse of consciousness, and Vyrm'n slowed a little, though did not halt. Some new sentience had appeared on this plane. Its song was unnatural, a single note of ceased and seized life dragged endlessly, impossibly on. Except it was thousands of them.
The Faceless listened hard, and ascertained that Sunset was close enough. Not Vyrm'n's problem.
The shadow felt the tug of acceleration slope away as the laws of physics prevented it from moving faster. Hurtling through the twisted maze of hallways, Vyrm'n raced to Maxwell as fast as it was able.
I'm coming.
Vyrm'n plummeted gracefully through corridor after endless corridor, in a forever downward as gravity was subjugated by the shadow. On occasion, to acquiesce to the indomitable solidness of an impenetrable wall, the Faceless would consent to take a minor detour; but on the whole Maxwell remained Vyrm'n's source, its target, its anchor in this warped world.
With such a single-minded focus, with the odd lapse to avoid those pesky walls or solidify enough to crash through a closed door, Vyrm'n's other strange senses were free to take in what of the world it could as it all flew past.
Gestalt and Samuel, they were moving - yes. Their bastard duet stirred up an equally bastardly storm of emotions in the Faceless... None of which seemed to make sense or allow for justification in Vyrm'n's mind when brought under scrutiny. Confusion, betrayl, apprehension... but also, somehow, jealousy, anger, fear even... homesickness?
The Faceless refocussed. There would be ample time to tease out the tangle later, once Maxwell was safe and the threat eliminated.
Vyrm'n crossed an interior courtyard at terminal velocity, adorned with a marble sculpture of a gargantuan human hand wielding an enormous, alabaster chisel. This implement turned back upon the other half of the statue; rough, quarry-fresh, unpolished; and hacked the hand which grasped it out of the stone. The effect would have been beautiful if the huge hunks of gouged stone did not litter its base, the dust having barely settled before it was flurried up again by a passing Faceless, who had not the eyes nor anatomy to savour the twisted beauty for such a thing.
Galus... he was close to Maxwell. In fact, the two were right next to each other. Vyrm'n consented to change focus while the two were in proximity, if only to let the Faceless think.
Though prepared to dismiss him here and now as useless, Vyrm'n had a moment to mull it over. He knew a Faceless - another one. Doubtless no more knowledgeable than Vyrm'n itself was of the particulars of their race, but... it was a start. A first, even. As far as Vyrm had known, two Faceless had never met in the confines of any universe. Perhaps, if Galus survived this, Vyrm'n and this Luna could meet. Perhaps.
Vyrm'n was a young student of desire. With negligible critical requirements in the vein of nutrition or stimulation; and an inherent understanding that all of its emotions and the consequent thoughts they triggered in its mind were, if you will, hand-me-downs, the Faceless had taken a long time to care about anything much. The Researcher's nature of regarding every query, every exclamation and conclusion reached by Vyrm'n as something astounding and worthy of lengthy metacognition and dissection, until Vyrm'n hardly remembered what it had been thinking in the first place - well, that didn't help much either.
Its manic thirst for comprehension of its existence, to know just what exactly a Faceless was, was probably the closest thing it had. Even so, it pursued this knowledge, understanding full well that this, again, was not its desire, but Vyrm's.
Again with this... constant ruminating, Vyrm'n thought to itself, silently sighing as it reached some sort of exit and burst out to traverse an exterior wall. To its left, a watery purple sun's rays clawed desperately through a void, which encompassed numerous layers of reality for the weak light to struggle through, to reach the Faceless. The hazy remnants of monolithic islands drifted in a stately, semi-real state across this endless sky.
Vyrm'n ignored these, for Maxwell was not there, and followed the genius' song through a now-broken window.
Maxwell. Vyrm'n felt a stab of guilt at the thought of him, a wound made all the more agonising by the fact that this pain was new for the Faceless. That last round, Vyrm'n had abandoned him. And for what? To murder Cabaret. He had nary crossed the Faceless' mind all the while they were in Destructo-World. He could've died, fallen victim to the myriad traps in that hellhole.
Vyrm'n took some time to rebuild top speed after crashing through that window, switching gravity with expert timing at corners until the piece of night could not move any faster. Another pulse of consciousness, and Vyrm'n slowed a little, though did not halt. Some new sentience had appeared on this plane. Its song was unnatural, a single note of ceased and seized life dragged endlessly, impossibly on. Except it was thousands of them.
The Faceless listened hard, and ascertained that Sunset was close enough. Not Vyrm'n's problem.
The shadow felt the tug of acceleration slope away as the laws of physics prevented it from moving faster. Hurtling through the twisted maze of hallways, Vyrm'n raced to Maxwell as fast as it was able.
I'm coming.
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