Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
12-20-2009, 06:00 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.
Cringing slightly but breathing heavily, Maxwell took a pause for thought. He stared at the Karmist, trying to figure out just how long his fuse was. Long enough to let him realise something, at least...
"She's already coming, I think."
"You think? That's not exactly what I was hoping to hear, Maxwell..."
"Well sorry, but on this subject I can only theorise. If she's "heard" you two moving towards us, then I would expect that she would have therefore discerned that I might be in danger. That would make her want to find me as soon as possible, but then I'm worried that it isn't quite as simple as it sounds..."
"Hang on, she? Vyrm'n?" Galus was perhaps a little slower on the uptake than the other two had appreciated...
"Yet another non-concrete concept, but I felt that Vyrm'n deserved something more than a meager "it". I expect Samuel probably heard me let the pronoun slip as he approached and decided to use it to an emotional advantage."
That caused the Karmist to grimace, but wasn't quite worthy of another lunge.
"Continue, Maxwell."
"...well, the way she works, she's going to have a bit of a problem. She doesn't see and subsequently subjectively analyse the world around her - she relies on the objective information that she "hears", from the "songs" of everything that exists in her vicinity. She wouldn't be able to fathom, for example, the staircases that are littered about this place - too many different ideas of what down truely is, too many surfaces that could be the floor, all of which are proudly declaring that they are indeed down, whereas we say bugger that and just pick a step at random. She comes, Samuel, believe you me, but she's not going to be very pleased when she gets her-"
From Maxwell's point of view, one moment he was going through a fairly odd bit of multi-tasking - attempting to hold a relatively coherent conversation with a human being that had motive to murder and figuring out what paradoxical peculiarity was offputting him so. The next moment was very much dominated by a lot of rather sharp, pointy and possibly painful pieces of everyday junk that were at that point in time responsible for making him re-evaluate whether or not breathing was a real necessity. On one hand, the requirements of an input of oxygen and an output of carbon dioxide that, if unsatisfied, would certainly cause death. On the other, the aforementioned scarf of stuff that surrounded his neck, making any slight movement a regrettable decision. The transition between the two was probably witnessed by Galus, and judging by the little gasp he let slip, it had been quite the show.
"Well then, how's about put together a little beacon for her, to pave her path, to guide her on her way, hey? I'd say the quicker she gets here, the better, don't you?"
Trying to surpress his quivering, Maxwell suddenly had a fun time thinking much more than:
Vyrm'n? Um, help? Yeah, help? Please? Pretty please? I could kinda do with it right now...
Cringing slightly but breathing heavily, Maxwell took a pause for thought. He stared at the Karmist, trying to figure out just how long his fuse was. Long enough to let him realise something, at least...
"She's already coming, I think."
"You think? That's not exactly what I was hoping to hear, Maxwell..."
"Well sorry, but on this subject I can only theorise. If she's "heard" you two moving towards us, then I would expect that she would have therefore discerned that I might be in danger. That would make her want to find me as soon as possible, but then I'm worried that it isn't quite as simple as it sounds..."
"Hang on, she? Vyrm'n?" Galus was perhaps a little slower on the uptake than the other two had appreciated...
"Yet another non-concrete concept, but I felt that Vyrm'n deserved something more than a meager "it". I expect Samuel probably heard me let the pronoun slip as he approached and decided to use it to an emotional advantage."
That caused the Karmist to grimace, but wasn't quite worthy of another lunge.
"Continue, Maxwell."
"...well, the way she works, she's going to have a bit of a problem. She doesn't see and subsequently subjectively analyse the world around her - she relies on the objective information that she "hears", from the "songs" of everything that exists in her vicinity. She wouldn't be able to fathom, for example, the staircases that are littered about this place - too many different ideas of what down truely is, too many surfaces that could be the floor, all of which are proudly declaring that they are indeed down, whereas we say bugger that and just pick a step at random. She comes, Samuel, believe you me, but she's not going to be very pleased when she gets her-"
From Maxwell's point of view, one moment he was going through a fairly odd bit of multi-tasking - attempting to hold a relatively coherent conversation with a human being that had motive to murder and figuring out what paradoxical peculiarity was offputting him so. The next moment was very much dominated by a lot of rather sharp, pointy and possibly painful pieces of everyday junk that were at that point in time responsible for making him re-evaluate whether or not breathing was a real necessity. On one hand, the requirements of an input of oxygen and an output of carbon dioxide that, if unsatisfied, would certainly cause death. On the other, the aforementioned scarf of stuff that surrounded his neck, making any slight movement a regrettable decision. The transition between the two was probably witnessed by Galus, and judging by the little gasp he let slip, it had been quite the show.
"Well then, how's about put together a little beacon for her, to pave her path, to guide her on her way, hey? I'd say the quicker she gets here, the better, don't you?"
Trying to surpress his quivering, Maxwell suddenly had a fun time thinking much more than:
Vyrm'n? Um, help? Yeah, help? Please? Pretty please? I could kinda do with it right now...