Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 4: Showtime!]
03-13-2010, 02:44 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Vyrm'n struggled half-heartedly with conscience briefly, before giving up and skulking for the wings. It took all of her will not to glance back toward Maxwell or the supply closet. Her vision was turned inward, the pulses of identification restricted to furtive, resentful glances.
Conscience, coiled around its black, beaten prize that was Vyrm'n's heart, grinned.
Through the mess of backdrops and props that cluttered the darkness, the stars migrated noiselessly - yet the smoke-clad visage of the Stage Director turned expectantly towards the approaching shadow.
"Finally ready to join us, are you?"
Vyrm'n didn't nod, move, or show any kind of agreement beyond radiating something akin to sullen resignation. A hand slid from a pocket and clapped her encouragingly on what, in the Stage Director's eyes, qualified as a shoulder. A moment of indecision coursed through the Faceless, as it envisioned the immaterial trail that wreath of smoke would trace through the eternity; were the man to lose his footing and plunge into endlessness.
The hand lifted, and so did Vyrm'n's daze. The man shoved again with more force than seemed physically possible upon the Faceless, sliding her towards Galus and Gestalt. As her atomic vision surveyed the two, the shadow was momentarily blinded by - some quality of the pair, a new aural thread that snaked its way through the shifting weave.
Vyrm'n, foremost, was blown away by how powerful this new tone was. It energised the Urisian and the Schrotgolem, both rendered radiant with its force. And yet... its source was a different plane of reality to the one they all occupied. The Faceless would've pursued it, attuning itself to the harmonic of this reality, but the tone was already so loud here that Vyrm'n had no inclination to chase it to where it could scream her out of existence. Snapping back to reality and appraising the pair for any sign out of the ordinary beyond these exultant auras, the shadow took the perpetuation of The Sunset's suit in her stride. The Balancer no longer resided there: he simply no longer resided. The thought, somehow, pleased Vyrm'n, filling her with the dull glow of unheeded satisfaction. She idly wondered whether this was the roar that permeated the two contestants in front of her; but an uninterested glance told the Faceless it was not.
Gestalt studied the still-musing Vyrm'n with some trepidation; its still-developing "theatrical" mindset was warning the golem of the Faceless' possible deficiencies in its skill upon the stage. As far as the golem knew, Vyrm'n was a forward, direct creature - brutally so. Gestalt was doubtful if its Faceless mind were even capable of understanding the concept of "acting", let alone being negotiated to do so. Gestalt's consciousness examined the shadow, but it seemed hunched; unresponsive to the schrotgolem's queries. Before it could probe further, the Stage Director returned and was ushering them onto the stage, whispering, "Some of the set was damaged, so work with what you've got!"
Gestalt turned, with some trepidation, toward the hulking dark even as the Stage Director hurried them onward. Galus had already marched on, but by the sound of it had forcibly collided with a large piece of set that hadn't been there before. The schrotgolem noted with some relief as a hand slipped in front of Vyrm'n, obstructing her way onstage. A stream of dragonbreath smoke coiled around the solid shadow, before the man muttered,
"Now, just let those two professionals show you how it's done."
Vyrm'n struggled half-heartedly with conscience briefly, before giving up and skulking for the wings. It took all of her will not to glance back toward Maxwell or the supply closet. Her vision was turned inward, the pulses of identification restricted to furtive, resentful glances.
Conscience, coiled around its black, beaten prize that was Vyrm'n's heart, grinned.
Through the mess of backdrops and props that cluttered the darkness, the stars migrated noiselessly - yet the smoke-clad visage of the Stage Director turned expectantly towards the approaching shadow.
"Finally ready to join us, are you?"
Vyrm'n didn't nod, move, or show any kind of agreement beyond radiating something akin to sullen resignation. A hand slid from a pocket and clapped her encouragingly on what, in the Stage Director's eyes, qualified as a shoulder. A moment of indecision coursed through the Faceless, as it envisioned the immaterial trail that wreath of smoke would trace through the eternity; were the man to lose his footing and plunge into endlessness.
The hand lifted, and so did Vyrm'n's daze. The man shoved again with more force than seemed physically possible upon the Faceless, sliding her towards Galus and Gestalt. As her atomic vision surveyed the two, the shadow was momentarily blinded by - some quality of the pair, a new aural thread that snaked its way through the shifting weave.
Vyrm'n, foremost, was blown away by how powerful this new tone was. It energised the Urisian and the Schrotgolem, both rendered radiant with its force. And yet... its source was a different plane of reality to the one they all occupied. The Faceless would've pursued it, attuning itself to the harmonic of this reality, but the tone was already so loud here that Vyrm'n had no inclination to chase it to where it could scream her out of existence. Snapping back to reality and appraising the pair for any sign out of the ordinary beyond these exultant auras, the shadow took the perpetuation of The Sunset's suit in her stride. The Balancer no longer resided there: he simply no longer resided. The thought, somehow, pleased Vyrm'n, filling her with the dull glow of unheeded satisfaction. She idly wondered whether this was the roar that permeated the two contestants in front of her; but an uninterested glance told the Faceless it was not.
Gestalt studied the still-musing Vyrm'n with some trepidation; its still-developing "theatrical" mindset was warning the golem of the Faceless' possible deficiencies in its skill upon the stage. As far as the golem knew, Vyrm'n was a forward, direct creature - brutally so. Gestalt was doubtful if its Faceless mind were even capable of understanding the concept of "acting", let alone being negotiated to do so. Gestalt's consciousness examined the shadow, but it seemed hunched; unresponsive to the schrotgolem's queries. Before it could probe further, the Stage Director returned and was ushering them onto the stage, whispering, "Some of the set was damaged, so work with what you've got!"
Gestalt turned, with some trepidation, toward the hulking dark even as the Stage Director hurried them onward. Galus had already marched on, but by the sound of it had forcibly collided with a large piece of set that hadn't been there before. The schrotgolem noted with some relief as a hand slipped in front of Vyrm'n, obstructing her way onstage. A stream of dragonbreath smoke coiled around the solid shadow, before the man muttered,
"Now, just let those two professionals show you how it's done."
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