Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
01-01-2010, 01:03 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.
A little too engrossed in his own troubles, Maxwell didn't notice Galus slink off until it was too late to do anything about it. Admittedly, there was nothing that he wanted out of Galus any longer, but maybe a little company, a little comfort from the supposed safety in numbers, perhaps that would have been nice. Maxwell knew he could do without, of course, but there was a surprisingly chaotic carnage on the floor behind him that said he couldn't.
He'd never truely felt death before. It had been a new and unique experience, to feel his imminent demise, and one he hoped would stay as a one-off for quite some time. That wasn't possible, sadly, but, hey, one can try. Everybody tries to push things out of their mind, to hide some bothersome thought in the corner, or to sweep some soberingly painful realisation under the bed; it's a human thing to do. Maxwell just wasn't too certain how one would go about covering up an elephant, although with a big enough sheet of cloth, maybe several sown together, and some camouflage paint one could go a fair way, but a metaphorical elephant is a tad more awkward than that.
Still, there was one thing that was much easier to do. Making the decision to fight or flee. There were two objects in his possession that said he could fight, and two feet on his body that said he could flee...
Hesitating somewhat, he started to pick his way down the corridor, circumnavigating the brash puddles of blood, being even more careful about the perfectly littered shards that were strewn all over the place. In conjunction, little cogwheels clicked and turned, pulling something up from the depths of his mind...
About halfway down the corridor, an observer - maybe The Observer - would have seen Maxwell stop, swear quite heavily in three different languages, turn around and pick his way back down the passageway, mumbling incomprehensibly for a while and then switching to a wobbling whistle. Quite why was something he was going to keep for himself for a while.
A little too engrossed in his own troubles, Maxwell didn't notice Galus slink off until it was too late to do anything about it. Admittedly, there was nothing that he wanted out of Galus any longer, but maybe a little company, a little comfort from the supposed safety in numbers, perhaps that would have been nice. Maxwell knew he could do without, of course, but there was a surprisingly chaotic carnage on the floor behind him that said he couldn't.
He'd never truely felt death before. It had been a new and unique experience, to feel his imminent demise, and one he hoped would stay as a one-off for quite some time. That wasn't possible, sadly, but, hey, one can try. Everybody tries to push things out of their mind, to hide some bothersome thought in the corner, or to sweep some soberingly painful realisation under the bed; it's a human thing to do. Maxwell just wasn't too certain how one would go about covering up an elephant, although with a big enough sheet of cloth, maybe several sown together, and some camouflage paint one could go a fair way, but a metaphorical elephant is a tad more awkward than that.
Still, there was one thing that was much easier to do. Making the decision to fight or flee. There were two objects in his possession that said he could fight, and two feet on his body that said he could flee...
Hesitating somewhat, he started to pick his way down the corridor, circumnavigating the brash puddles of blood, being even more careful about the perfectly littered shards that were strewn all over the place. In conjunction, little cogwheels clicked and turned, pulling something up from the depths of his mind...
About halfway down the corridor, an observer - maybe The Observer - would have seen Maxwell stop, swear quite heavily in three different languages, turn around and pick his way back down the passageway, mumbling incomprehensibly for a while and then switching to a wobbling whistle. Quite why was something he was going to keep for himself for a while.