Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 6:Doomish Temple!]
07-20-2010, 05:17 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
It was quiet, but not peaceful. Somehow, the oppressive depth of this silence, the non-sound of knowing miles of rock pressed inexorably down overhead, was worse than the groaning of zombies. Not that Vyrm'n knew much about either. Conscience's act of dragging her out of hiding, despite the pain, was too brutish to allow for the finer points of her atomic vision, like the vibrations of sound, to reach her in the mall.
And now, she was too far away to care. Instead, the other custodian of that star-flecked frame surged beneath the exterior, uncaring as ever. What little motive it had had always been, and would be, a pale flicker of however Vyrm'n had felt. As such, self-preservation was the idle little concept trickling through the implacable entity's mind.
The Faceless slipped, easy and instinctual, into the deeper gloom, wrapping itself around the rubbled of a semi-collapsed hallway and slinking off down a passageway. Its route through the catacombs was unhurried, meandering; if a pit trap, or a door grinding shut halted its advance, it unconcernedly turned and took another, arbitrary route further and further from the exalted congregation of sentience in that first chamber.
One bright mote, however, gave stately, measured chase through the unnatural gloom.
It was quiet, but not peaceful. Somehow, the oppressive depth of this silence, the non-sound of knowing miles of rock pressed inexorably down overhead, was worse than the groaning of zombies. Not that Vyrm'n knew much about either. Conscience's act of dragging her out of hiding, despite the pain, was too brutish to allow for the finer points of her atomic vision, like the vibrations of sound, to reach her in the mall.
And now, she was too far away to care. Instead, the other custodian of that star-flecked frame surged beneath the exterior, uncaring as ever. What little motive it had had always been, and would be, a pale flicker of however Vyrm'n had felt. As such, self-preservation was the idle little concept trickling through the implacable entity's mind.
The Faceless slipped, easy and instinctual, into the deeper gloom, wrapping itself around the rubbled of a semi-collapsed hallway and slinking off down a passageway. Its route through the catacombs was unhurried, meandering; if a pit trap, or a door grinding shut halted its advance, it unconcernedly turned and took another, arbitrary route further and further from the exalted congregation of sentience in that first chamber.
One bright mote, however, gave stately, measured chase through the unnatural gloom.
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