Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round One: Vio Maleficat)
01-04-2011, 02:54 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
Scofflaw felt rather unwanted as he approached; the dinosaur gave a little twitch of caution and the rusty-looking alien glared at him with an animosity that might have been a bit more deep-rooted. Scofflaw sighed. “Oh, right, I forgot. I’m a bastard.”
”I believe the man’s wording was, ‘you most likely can’t trust him at all,’” clarified Tor.
Scofflaw rolled his eyes. “Listen, back when the Fool was mortal, I owed him some money. Throwing me into this thing is his idea of a sick joke. Seriously, ‘Saint Scofflaw?’ The hell is that?”
”How much money and for what?” asked Kerak.
“$60,000 for a business venture,” answered Scofflaw, perhaps a little too quickly. “A bakery, if you must know. Didn’t pan out. Heh. Pan.”
Tor sighed. “Look, if you’re going to insist on keeping up this incredibly obvious charade, I’ll let you, but first, give me your weapon.”
Scofflaw groaned and pulled out his dagger. As he handed it to Tor, a girl around six years of age with translucent blue butterfly wings materialized by Scofflaw’s elbow; he stabbed her between the eyes, and she screamed with the voice of a grown man for several seconds before keeling over and dematerializing.
Scofflaw awkwardly picked the dagger off the ground and handed it to Tor. “That was… a reflex,” he assured his companions.
”Uh-huh,” said Tor, pushing a random button on the dagger. A jet of yellow flame shot out the point, and he watched it disinterestedly. “Listen, I know about you, Saint Scofflaw. I’m from your future. I’ve read up on all your silly Earth history.”
Scofflaw tried to look unimpressed. “Mm-hmm? And let me guess. I was the most evil man in history; I took over the world, dropped bombs full of STDs on my enemies, put all acoustic alternative rock bands in camps?”
”Nope! You were considered the last classic supervillain until, oh, I forget, you got cancer or something and died alone and unloved.”
Scofflaw snarled. “Look, we can all sort this out in the second round.”
”I agree,” said Kerak. ”If no one’s going to be eating anyone, why don’t we get to exploring—wait, what do you mean, ‘second round?’”
By that time Scofflaw had already pressed a button on his shoe and taken off surprisingly quickly down the hallway. The dagger began to make beeping sounds. Tor, a little slow on the uptake, managed to drop it just as it exploded… into flowers.
”Thank you, Chaos,” chuckled Tor nervously. He looked down the hallway, but Scofflaw had disappeared. ”Fast little bugger, isn’t he?”
”Not really,” said Kerak, stretching out.
”Take him down but don’t eat him.” Kerak growled discontentedly. ”If you eat him, there will be consequences for you.”
Five seconds later, Tor heard Kerak call, ”Got him!” Tor began to stroll over, half-expecting (and half-wishing) to see a scene of magnificent dinosaur-induced carnage. Instead, Kerak was lounging just around the corner, keeping watch over Scofflaw, who seemed to have fallen waist-deep into the floor and was trying desperately to extricate himself.
“Help me out, you bastards!” shouted Scofflaw. “I can’t feel my legs! Do something!”
”I’ll do something alright,” said Tor. ”Not sure what. Let’s wait for the others to show up and then decide as a group, eh?”
Scofflaw put his hands on the floor in surrender. One of them sunk under the floor and became stuck. “Confound it,” he grumbled, completely trapped and content, for now, to wait.
Scofflaw felt rather unwanted as he approached; the dinosaur gave a little twitch of caution and the rusty-looking alien glared at him with an animosity that might have been a bit more deep-rooted. Scofflaw sighed. “Oh, right, I forgot. I’m a bastard.”
”I believe the man’s wording was, ‘you most likely can’t trust him at all,’” clarified Tor.
Scofflaw rolled his eyes. “Listen, back when the Fool was mortal, I owed him some money. Throwing me into this thing is his idea of a sick joke. Seriously, ‘Saint Scofflaw?’ The hell is that?”
”How much money and for what?” asked Kerak.
“$60,000 for a business venture,” answered Scofflaw, perhaps a little too quickly. “A bakery, if you must know. Didn’t pan out. Heh. Pan.”
Tor sighed. “Look, if you’re going to insist on keeping up this incredibly obvious charade, I’ll let you, but first, give me your weapon.”
Scofflaw groaned and pulled out his dagger. As he handed it to Tor, a girl around six years of age with translucent blue butterfly wings materialized by Scofflaw’s elbow; he stabbed her between the eyes, and she screamed with the voice of a grown man for several seconds before keeling over and dematerializing.
Scofflaw awkwardly picked the dagger off the ground and handed it to Tor. “That was… a reflex,” he assured his companions.
”Uh-huh,” said Tor, pushing a random button on the dagger. A jet of yellow flame shot out the point, and he watched it disinterestedly. “Listen, I know about you, Saint Scofflaw. I’m from your future. I’ve read up on all your silly Earth history.”
Scofflaw tried to look unimpressed. “Mm-hmm? And let me guess. I was the most evil man in history; I took over the world, dropped bombs full of STDs on my enemies, put all acoustic alternative rock bands in camps?”
”Nope! You were considered the last classic supervillain until, oh, I forget, you got cancer or something and died alone and unloved.”
Scofflaw snarled. “Look, we can all sort this out in the second round.”
”I agree,” said Kerak. ”If no one’s going to be eating anyone, why don’t we get to exploring—wait, what do you mean, ‘second round?’”
By that time Scofflaw had already pressed a button on his shoe and taken off surprisingly quickly down the hallway. The dagger began to make beeping sounds. Tor, a little slow on the uptake, managed to drop it just as it exploded… into flowers.
”Thank you, Chaos,” chuckled Tor nervously. He looked down the hallway, but Scofflaw had disappeared. ”Fast little bugger, isn’t he?”
”Not really,” said Kerak, stretching out.
”Take him down but don’t eat him.” Kerak growled discontentedly. ”If you eat him, there will be consequences for you.”
Five seconds later, Tor heard Kerak call, ”Got him!” Tor began to stroll over, half-expecting (and half-wishing) to see a scene of magnificent dinosaur-induced carnage. Instead, Kerak was lounging just around the corner, keeping watch over Scofflaw, who seemed to have fallen waist-deep into the floor and was trying desperately to extricate himself.
“Help me out, you bastards!” shouted Scofflaw. “I can’t feel my legs! Do something!”
”I’ll do something alright,” said Tor. ”Not sure what. Let’s wait for the others to show up and then decide as a group, eh?”
Scofflaw put his hands on the floor in surrender. One of them sunk under the floor and became stuck. “Confound it,” he grumbled, completely trapped and content, for now, to wait.