Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
01-02-2010, 12:44 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Faceless and Karmist waited with bated breath for Gestalt's reaction. The golem had little discernbile thought while Vyrm'n had pleaded with it, beyond the perpeutal raging ideas which had gripped it in agonising existential crisis.
As the shadow's words sunk in, nothing happened for the (to them) considerable length of a Karmist's heartbeat, before coherence returned to Gestalt's thoughts with an impotent fury reminicent of Nu.
YOU STAND THERE BLEATING YOUR TIRED PLATITUDES LIKE SOME IGNORANT PAGAN CHANT TO DRIVE BACK THE UNKNOWN FEAR- Gestalt's physical assault accompanied the mental, knives, needles, crockery, and the fake-diamond dust of glass fragements chasing, albeit with some lack of co-ordination, the already-fleeing Vyrm'n -AND YOU HAVE THE MORONIC TEMERITY TO THINK I COULD FIND SOLACE IN IT SUCH AS YOU DOThe Faceless experienced further de ja vu as again, the hateful and hated brick gouged across the starscape, followed all-too-shortly by a platoon of shattered tiles under Samuel's command. Though it had taken as much mind-bending interpretation and parsing as it had to decode Gestalt's messages, the Karmist had managed to negotiate enough karma to mend the bones broken in his legs. He now stood, cocky grin replaced with a grim gash in his mouth from which only a cautious sneer dared to replace the gritted teeth of fierce concentration.
The assault from two consciousnesses was finally too much for Vyrm'n. The combined cacophony of a thousand wounds swallowing up the fresh pain-song; the Faceless grasped the last piece of the Labyrinth Field, its furious scream echoing down the connection with the energy to match even Gestalt's mad howls.
Do you really want to know what life is, Gestalt? This is what your existence means to the universe.
Samuel saw it coming, and had the sense to shove their combined consciousness well away from the black pillar, as Vyrm'n succumbed to the pain and let its sapience be replaced with the raging emptiness that was the true Faceless. He didn't experience it; the feeling of being dwarfed by a whole, uncaring universe was Gestalt's and Gestalt's alone to revel in. Still, the sensation was not entirely lost to the Karmist; who, through he and Gestalt's melded state of being, managed to watch what had stolen his Labyrinthine prize; albeit in a peripheral fashion. What he saw left the Karmist speechless, unable to formulate a sarcastic reply or acerbic quip to fake understanding and control over the situation.
The void faded, to be replaced by the shaken scrap of Vyrm'n, somehow less majestic in comparison to that other force cloaked by that inky exterior. All present noted that Gestalt as a being had survived being stared down by all of existence - whether it was awed or terrified or dismissive was hard to say; the only noticeable change in its demeanour was that it had halted for the time being.
Vyrm'n opened its mind again to the melded duo, something it had avoided doing during the fight to shield its stream of consciousness from the pervasive contact with Gestalt's. It didn't even bother to articulate into words; the message a simple one of argument-winning dismissal, along the lines of there you have it. Vyrm'n's mental voice was evidently meant to be contemptuous, but the Faceless was incapable of hiding its terrified exhaustion as it retreated to its own mind, spitting out the jagged brick which hit the alley floor with an unresponsive thud.
Trembling visibly, and no longer in the mood to fight, Vyrm'n took its leave, slithering drunkenly up to the alley entrance before leaping into the air and seeking out the portal that led back to Maxwell.
Faceless and Karmist waited with bated breath for Gestalt's reaction. The golem had little discernbile thought while Vyrm'n had pleaded with it, beyond the perpeutal raging ideas which had gripped it in agonising existential crisis.
As the shadow's words sunk in, nothing happened for the (to them) considerable length of a Karmist's heartbeat, before coherence returned to Gestalt's thoughts with an impotent fury reminicent of Nu.
YOU STAND THERE BLEATING YOUR TIRED PLATITUDES LIKE SOME IGNORANT PAGAN CHANT TO DRIVE BACK THE UNKNOWN FEAR- Gestalt's physical assault accompanied the mental, knives, needles, crockery, and the fake-diamond dust of glass fragements chasing, albeit with some lack of co-ordination, the already-fleeing Vyrm'n -AND YOU HAVE THE MORONIC TEMERITY TO THINK I COULD FIND SOLACE IN IT SUCH AS YOU DOThe Faceless experienced further de ja vu as again, the hateful and hated brick gouged across the starscape, followed all-too-shortly by a platoon of shattered tiles under Samuel's command. Though it had taken as much mind-bending interpretation and parsing as it had to decode Gestalt's messages, the Karmist had managed to negotiate enough karma to mend the bones broken in his legs. He now stood, cocky grin replaced with a grim gash in his mouth from which only a cautious sneer dared to replace the gritted teeth of fierce concentration.
The assault from two consciousnesses was finally too much for Vyrm'n. The combined cacophony of a thousand wounds swallowing up the fresh pain-song; the Faceless grasped the last piece of the Labyrinth Field, its furious scream echoing down the connection with the energy to match even Gestalt's mad howls.
Do you really want to know what life is, Gestalt? This is what your existence means to the universe.
Samuel saw it coming, and had the sense to shove their combined consciousness well away from the black pillar, as Vyrm'n succumbed to the pain and let its sapience be replaced with the raging emptiness that was the true Faceless. He didn't experience it; the feeling of being dwarfed by a whole, uncaring universe was Gestalt's and Gestalt's alone to revel in. Still, the sensation was not entirely lost to the Karmist; who, through he and Gestalt's melded state of being, managed to watch what had stolen his Labyrinthine prize; albeit in a peripheral fashion. What he saw left the Karmist speechless, unable to formulate a sarcastic reply or acerbic quip to fake understanding and control over the situation.
The void faded, to be replaced by the shaken scrap of Vyrm'n, somehow less majestic in comparison to that other force cloaked by that inky exterior. All present noted that Gestalt as a being had survived being stared down by all of existence - whether it was awed or terrified or dismissive was hard to say; the only noticeable change in its demeanour was that it had halted for the time being.
Vyrm'n opened its mind again to the melded duo, something it had avoided doing during the fight to shield its stream of consciousness from the pervasive contact with Gestalt's. It didn't even bother to articulate into words; the message a simple one of argument-winning dismissal, along the lines of there you have it. Vyrm'n's mental voice was evidently meant to be contemptuous, but the Faceless was incapable of hiding its terrified exhaustion as it retreated to its own mind, spitting out the jagged brick which hit the alley floor with an unresponsive thud.
Trembling visibly, and no longer in the mood to fight, Vyrm'n took its leave, slithering drunkenly up to the alley entrance before leaping into the air and seeking out the portal that led back to Maxwell.
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