Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 3: Escheresque!]
02-03-2010, 09:45 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Vyrm'n had to admit, it'd panicked when Galus said Maxwell was down there. Though it pained the Faceless to not be actively protecting him, the Urisian showed remarkable sense when his mind was dancing on the knife-edge of life and death. She'd heard his plan all the way through and it didn't sound completely suicidal (for Vyrm'n, at any rate) so the Faceless offered its support. The duo spent several loops over the Balancer's position trying to find the optimum angle to fly in at. Each time, the Sunset followed the same pattern, machine gun, then firing the Nightmare as they crossed overhead. It was astounding how the formerly pragmatic, tactical entity had been reduced to this.
Several passes later, Galus figured they'd got it. Still holding down the trigger of his pistol, the marine embedded it in the lower region of the Faceless, the darkness holding the trigger in place so it still fired. The accuracy of such a setup was negligible; the point was for it to be a distraction. Banking sharply for the fly-over, the Urisian aimed his grapnel, and fired. With no time to hesitate, he clicked it to auto-ratchet itself back in, jammed it in the Faceless, and holding the sheath of his combat knife put his arms on either side of the cable and leapt off just as the grapnel adhered to the Sunset's iron shoulder with a clang. The Balancer, had only raised an arm to reflect the incoming pistol fire but was not contemplating having a grapnel stuck to himself. By the time he noticed, Galus was already halfway down the line. Dropping early and crouching into a roll to stand at the Sunset's feet, the Urisian unsheathed his knife and leapt to plunge it into the Balancer's coil-filled chest.
What came next; Galus had not planned for. Initially intending to stab, then run under the Sunset's legs and grab the pistol Vyrm'n would drop before sprinting for the cover of the demolished fountain; the marine's plans were interrupted by the horde of souls. As the Sunset's repair function executed and struggled to process how something was getting in the way of components repairing themselves, the souls shifted into the cold steel and screamed at Galus. The mental assault left him stunned and unable to tear his hand away, until the machinegun arm wedged in there and flicked him effortlessly off and into a demolished pillar. Galus crumpled as he hit the stone, either winded or knocked out - it was hard to tell while he had the helmet on.
Maxwell, meanwhile, had snuck his way along the cliff face while the Sunset had been distracted; and had been doing really well at remaining undetected until Galus was thrown at the pillar he'd been leaning against. The Sunset was releasing puffs of smoke more frequently than before; it was obvious the knife had done some damage. Ripping the magnetic grapnel off with the tip of the Nightmare, like a barnacle is flicked off a ship, the coilgun swung to face the pair, its wail a futuristic air-raid tone of impending doom. Maxwell bit his lip as he figured the odds of his survival. If he considered only himself, it was a pretty simple equation. Factor in the incapacitated Galus, though...
Vyrm'n had to admit, it'd panicked when Galus said Maxwell was down there. Though it pained the Faceless to not be actively protecting him, the Urisian showed remarkable sense when his mind was dancing on the knife-edge of life and death. She'd heard his plan all the way through and it didn't sound completely suicidal (for Vyrm'n, at any rate) so the Faceless offered its support. The duo spent several loops over the Balancer's position trying to find the optimum angle to fly in at. Each time, the Sunset followed the same pattern, machine gun, then firing the Nightmare as they crossed overhead. It was astounding how the formerly pragmatic, tactical entity had been reduced to this.
Several passes later, Galus figured they'd got it. Still holding down the trigger of his pistol, the marine embedded it in the lower region of the Faceless, the darkness holding the trigger in place so it still fired. The accuracy of such a setup was negligible; the point was for it to be a distraction. Banking sharply for the fly-over, the Urisian aimed his grapnel, and fired. With no time to hesitate, he clicked it to auto-ratchet itself back in, jammed it in the Faceless, and holding the sheath of his combat knife put his arms on either side of the cable and leapt off just as the grapnel adhered to the Sunset's iron shoulder with a clang. The Balancer, had only raised an arm to reflect the incoming pistol fire but was not contemplating having a grapnel stuck to himself. By the time he noticed, Galus was already halfway down the line. Dropping early and crouching into a roll to stand at the Sunset's feet, the Urisian unsheathed his knife and leapt to plunge it into the Balancer's coil-filled chest.
What came next; Galus had not planned for. Initially intending to stab, then run under the Sunset's legs and grab the pistol Vyrm'n would drop before sprinting for the cover of the demolished fountain; the marine's plans were interrupted by the horde of souls. As the Sunset's repair function executed and struggled to process how something was getting in the way of components repairing themselves, the souls shifted into the cold steel and screamed at Galus. The mental assault left him stunned and unable to tear his hand away, until the machinegun arm wedged in there and flicked him effortlessly off and into a demolished pillar. Galus crumpled as he hit the stone, either winded or knocked out - it was hard to tell while he had the helmet on.
Maxwell, meanwhile, had snuck his way along the cliff face while the Sunset had been distracted; and had been doing really well at remaining undetected until Galus was thrown at the pillar he'd been leaning against. The Sunset was releasing puffs of smoke more frequently than before; it was obvious the knife had done some damage. Ripping the magnetic grapnel off with the tip of the Nightmare, like a barnacle is flicked off a ship, the coilgun swung to face the pair, its wail a futuristic air-raid tone of impending doom. Maxwell bit his lip as he figured the odds of his survival. If he considered only himself, it was a pretty simple equation. Factor in the incapacitated Galus, though...
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