Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
01-27-2010, 03:47 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.
The demons follow me. They taunt me in the darkness. The light protects me. The light banishes the demons. Who stole the light?
Defeated and abandoned, the body of Samuel Therion meandered through the deserted alleyways of the harbor. His movements were jagged, flimsy, and uncoordinated. The remnants of the power bestowed to him by Gestalt prevented his form from collapsing on the cobblestone pavement, but it, at times, held him aloft in such unnatural positions that the Karmist resembled a marionette more than a man. The arms, utterly limp, swayed in time with the lurching motions which guided the feet to the ground. At points, the semblance of walking was disregarded entirely. The scraping of leather on stone echoed through the corridors as the points of levitating wing-tipped shoes dragged along the rough floor. Every joint of the Karmist was loose, every muscle weary, unwilling to provide any substantial support to the languid frame. On occasion, the head, bent low towards the ground would flop to the side, revealing glossy, pale, unfocused eyes.
The scenery around the Karmist began to change as the body proceeded towards some unknown goal. The roofs of buildings connected into archways which merged into tunnels which straightened into corridors. After some time wandering, moving apparently in circles, the body of Samuel found itself once again amongst the twisted unnavigable hallways and staircases where the round had commenced. Yet the unconscious form of the Karmist found no difficulty in maneuvering amidst the mess of perceived gravity, if indeed it managed to perceive anything.
---
Deep within the body, through the glossy, unseeing eyes, past barrier after barrier of invisible protection, through impenetrable blackness wrapped in a shawl of fear and forgetfulness, lay Samuel's fragmented mind.
It's dark here. So dark. The demons live in the darkness. They beckon me to them, to listen to their tales. They torture me so. Their stories are awful, terrible, such cruelty, but no I will not listen, I cannot. It's too much, too much.
Samuel hid in the darkness of his mind. Left alone with only pieces of himself, the Karmist could not bear to allow his conscious mind to wander. He sat, repeating all that was safe for him to know, and blocking out all that caused him pain.
Where did you go? I can't go on without you. Who has stolen you from me? I need your light. I cannot see without it. The light holds the demons at bay. With it I can laugh at them. With it I can see the truth clearly. But now, all they do is torment me with their lies.
Earlier, Samuel had felt the presence of his light. He had tried to listen to it, but the message was brief and distant. "_el__s__i__" Not much had gotten though. At least, not enough for Samuel to make sense of it from within his self-made prison. So the Karmist's mind continued muttering to itself, waiting for the light it longed for to return.
-------------
"He's dead..."
Having spoken these words, the ghost knight's spectral hands reached out and grasped the metal behemoth. Dorukomet's iridescent eyes flared with intensity as the soft chuckle escalated into full cackling laughter.
"I did it! I've won! I've beat him! That idiotic necromaSTer thought he could control me! But I escaped him! I escaped that whole wretched game! HahahahaAH-AHHHHH"
The laughter broke instantly into a wretched scream. Dorukomet released The Sunset from his grasp, and jabbed his translucent hands deep inside his own ghastly head. The sound of thousands of spectral chains breaking at the news of their master's demise coupled with the deafening cacophony of a thousand voices all clamoring for control of their one spectral body gushed forth from the spirit, shaking the walls around it.
The Sunset had a simple solution to this unexpected auditory assault. Another hum was added to the roaring chorus for a few moments. Then, The Sunset fired the Nightmare.
The demons follow me. They taunt me in the darkness. The light protects me. The light banishes the demons. Who stole the light?
Defeated and abandoned, the body of Samuel Therion meandered through the deserted alleyways of the harbor. His movements were jagged, flimsy, and uncoordinated. The remnants of the power bestowed to him by Gestalt prevented his form from collapsing on the cobblestone pavement, but it, at times, held him aloft in such unnatural positions that the Karmist resembled a marionette more than a man. The arms, utterly limp, swayed in time with the lurching motions which guided the feet to the ground. At points, the semblance of walking was disregarded entirely. The scraping of leather on stone echoed through the corridors as the points of levitating wing-tipped shoes dragged along the rough floor. Every joint of the Karmist was loose, every muscle weary, unwilling to provide any substantial support to the languid frame. On occasion, the head, bent low towards the ground would flop to the side, revealing glossy, pale, unfocused eyes.
The scenery around the Karmist began to change as the body proceeded towards some unknown goal. The roofs of buildings connected into archways which merged into tunnels which straightened into corridors. After some time wandering, moving apparently in circles, the body of Samuel found itself once again amongst the twisted unnavigable hallways and staircases where the round had commenced. Yet the unconscious form of the Karmist found no difficulty in maneuvering amidst the mess of perceived gravity, if indeed it managed to perceive anything.
---
Deep within the body, through the glossy, unseeing eyes, past barrier after barrier of invisible protection, through impenetrable blackness wrapped in a shawl of fear and forgetfulness, lay Samuel's fragmented mind.
It's dark here. So dark. The demons live in the darkness. They beckon me to them, to listen to their tales. They torture me so. Their stories are awful, terrible, such cruelty, but no I will not listen, I cannot. It's too much, too much.
Samuel hid in the darkness of his mind. Left alone with only pieces of himself, the Karmist could not bear to allow his conscious mind to wander. He sat, repeating all that was safe for him to know, and blocking out all that caused him pain.
Where did you go? I can't go on without you. Who has stolen you from me? I need your light. I cannot see without it. The light holds the demons at bay. With it I can laugh at them. With it I can see the truth clearly. But now, all they do is torment me with their lies.
Earlier, Samuel had felt the presence of his light. He had tried to listen to it, but the message was brief and distant. "_el__s__i__" Not much had gotten though. At least, not enough for Samuel to make sense of it from within his self-made prison. So the Karmist's mind continued muttering to itself, waiting for the light it longed for to return.
-------------
"He's dead..."
Having spoken these words, the ghost knight's spectral hands reached out and grasped the metal behemoth. Dorukomet's iridescent eyes flared with intensity as the soft chuckle escalated into full cackling laughter.
"I did it! I've won! I've beat him! That idiotic necromaSTer thought he could control me! But I escaped him! I escaped that whole wretched game! HahahahaAH-AHHHHH"
The laughter broke instantly into a wretched scream. Dorukomet released The Sunset from his grasp, and jabbed his translucent hands deep inside his own ghastly head. The sound of thousands of spectral chains breaking at the news of their master's demise coupled with the deafening cacophony of a thousand voices all clamoring for control of their one spectral body gushed forth from the spirit, shaking the walls around it.
The Sunset had a simple solution to this unexpected auditory assault. Another hum was added to the roaring chorus for a few moments. Then, The Sunset fired the Nightmare.