Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 4: Showtime!]
03-01-2010, 05:12 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Vyrm'n didn't answer the voice. She found herself incapable of doing so; and the tenuous points that may have, in some future more conducive to introspection, formed the basis for an answer hinted at something that left the Faceless uneasy with itself. The voice lurked in the darkest corners of the dark being. The idle threat of its mere presence, spontaneously, became that much more immediate - by a movement that may or may not've been a cruelly self-inflicted trick of an eye weary from standing vigil all that lonesome inner night. The voice's next words were trailing... curious, but self-aware of the inarguable intrusiveness.
I fail to understand, Vyrm'n, what your fascination is with those... weaklings.
It avoided the prior mocking tones, but the Faceless bristled anyway - Maxwell - The shadow, again, could not continue coherently - its myriad threads of logic drifting, anchorless and formless, through its dark mind.
The twisted mockery of conscience idly traced the thought to its source; its frown shifting into a smirk as it twined around and ensnared it, refusing to relinquish its crushing grip.
What about him? Hm? Obligation, again? Is it better, somehow, when you know it's self-enforced? Evidently you've deluded yourself it must be - but why him, then?Vyrm'n didn't like that, and a trebuchet-worthy hole in a plywood castle backdrop just illustrated the point. Shouldn't die was all the Faceless could force out through its rising temper.
Why him? Why not any of the others? The Galus boy is probably more use to fulfill whatever passing whims which seem to qualify as desires in you. Much more knowledgeable, at any rate.
He's... just another murderer. Maxwell - the mental shuffle between present and past tense was tangible to the pair - he's different. The previously steady tones of the ancient being now had a quality almost absurdly contrasting - Vyrm'n was in significant distress, and were she capable of it, close to tears.
Despite your dogged belief that he would be above thinking such thoughts, he would evidently stoop to such levels were it his own survival on the line.
Vyrm'n said nothing, but the stars were trembling.
If you're really that desperate to save him, kill the others. Kill the Observer, even. If you all escaped, what stops him from plucking Maxwell from his universe again?
... There'll be a way. Maxwell's looking.
You don't believe that. You only reluctantly helped the Sunset, and only in the hope of saving your precious Maxwell, for reasons you cannot even explain to yourself, it seems. You felt the Balancer's desperation; you felt him die. You didn't bemoan an opportunity lost to escape, you savoured his final cries. No, I'm not disgusted with you, the insidious entity added hastily, I'm not that kind of conscience. It snickered.
In fact, I can propose a way out of this ridiculous self-indulgent guilt you insist on wrapping yourself in. That boy, for once, spoke truth. Your domain to rule, out on that stage, your heroics not derided by this conscience which you seem so unrequitedly attached to, but celebrated by thousands - no - millions.
Now Vyrm'n, get out there. They're waiting.
Vyrm'n didn't answer the voice. She found herself incapable of doing so; and the tenuous points that may have, in some future more conducive to introspection, formed the basis for an answer hinted at something that left the Faceless uneasy with itself. The voice lurked in the darkest corners of the dark being. The idle threat of its mere presence, spontaneously, became that much more immediate - by a movement that may or may not've been a cruelly self-inflicted trick of an eye weary from standing vigil all that lonesome inner night. The voice's next words were trailing... curious, but self-aware of the inarguable intrusiveness.
I fail to understand, Vyrm'n, what your fascination is with those... weaklings.
It avoided the prior mocking tones, but the Faceless bristled anyway - Maxwell - The shadow, again, could not continue coherently - its myriad threads of logic drifting, anchorless and formless, through its dark mind.
The twisted mockery of conscience idly traced the thought to its source; its frown shifting into a smirk as it twined around and ensnared it, refusing to relinquish its crushing grip.
What about him? Hm? Obligation, again? Is it better, somehow, when you know it's self-enforced? Evidently you've deluded yourself it must be - but why him, then?Vyrm'n didn't like that, and a trebuchet-worthy hole in a plywood castle backdrop just illustrated the point. Shouldn't die was all the Faceless could force out through its rising temper.
Why him? Why not any of the others? The Galus boy is probably more use to fulfill whatever passing whims which seem to qualify as desires in you. Much more knowledgeable, at any rate.
He's... just another murderer. Maxwell - the mental shuffle between present and past tense was tangible to the pair - he's different. The previously steady tones of the ancient being now had a quality almost absurdly contrasting - Vyrm'n was in significant distress, and were she capable of it, close to tears.
Despite your dogged belief that he would be above thinking such thoughts, he would evidently stoop to such levels were it his own survival on the line.
Vyrm'n said nothing, but the stars were trembling.
If you're really that desperate to save him, kill the others. Kill the Observer, even. If you all escaped, what stops him from plucking Maxwell from his universe again?
... There'll be a way. Maxwell's looking.
You don't believe that. You only reluctantly helped the Sunset, and only in the hope of saving your precious Maxwell, for reasons you cannot even explain to yourself, it seems. You felt the Balancer's desperation; you felt him die. You didn't bemoan an opportunity lost to escape, you savoured his final cries. No, I'm not disgusted with you, the insidious entity added hastily, I'm not that kind of conscience. It snickered.
In fact, I can propose a way out of this ridiculous self-indulgent guilt you insist on wrapping yourself in. That boy, for once, spoke truth. Your domain to rule, out on that stage, your heroics not derided by this conscience which you seem so unrequitedly attached to, but celebrated by thousands - no - millions.
Now Vyrm'n, get out there. They're waiting.
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