Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round One: Vio Maleficat)
04-28-2011, 11:04 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
Scofflaw had employed dinosaurs in the past, but none of them had ever been so… goofy. He’d always had the feeling that he was living in a cartoon, but associating with Kerak gave him the feeling that he was living in a cartoon from a different age, one with less Eastern influence and bereft of the post-Columbine fretting about child psychology.
The Deinonychus’ slapstick fixation with food would probably have been a negative when establishing a partnership with a man who, to be honest, could probably drop a few pounds and still retain his commanding presence. However, the good news was that Kerak didn’t hunger like a beast so much as he craved, like a pregnant woman, and right now he was craving Murdoch. Scofflaw was happy to play the role of chef and waiter.
The dinosaur, his brain like Jetsam’s apparently affected by the presence of chaos, seemed to be able to sniff out the trail of Unity exuded by the magician. That or he was just trotting through the halls pretending to know where he was going. Either way, Scofflaw was pleased to follow, so long as they didn’t wind up back where the other contestants were busy Grand Battling. A quick execution for Miles would certainly play to his advantage, but either way, the round would be coming to an end soon with all the plasma swirling about.
When it became apparent that they were catching up to the magician Scofflaw could perceive it too—a faint humming, in a register almost too high for him to hear, almost self-aggrandizing in its harmony. It was the sound of Unity. Scofflaw found it a bit bothersome.
The sound stopped, as though Chaos had just had a better idea, and a wall burst forth and released a ton of vaguely foul-smelling sand on top of Kerak and Scofflaw. The villain gave a bit of a girly yelp and flailed around as the sand got under his clothes and threatened to hang around itchily in his joints for days to come. By the time the two had gotten their bearings, the corridor was gone.
In its place was a massive, cavernous chamber, dominated by some manner of nightmare-creature that hung from the ceiling and seemed to be contributing to the slowly rising level of sand. Locked in fruitless battle with it were the other Grand Battle contestants, the ones Scofflaw had forgotten about.
Scofflaw hung back and weighed his options. If he stood and did nothing, the monster would probably kill one of the other constestants and progress the battle to the next round. That would be a short-term benefit, but of course probably prove detrimental in the much more important battle against Miles.
Four possibilities. Scratch that: five possibilities, counting the chance, however slim, that this gibbering echinoderm could actually kill Scofflaw. He dismissed that notion quickly.
The monster could kill Kerak. That wasn’t good; Kerak, as well as being a spectacularly low threat, might prove to be an excellent minion in time.
It could kill Tengeri. Was Tengeri a threat? Scofflaw squinted and watched the serpent grappling valiantly against the Thing. He supposed she was very frightening, what with her teeth and her absurdly advanced technology. He tried to imagine her getting the better of him. It was… hard. He decided that she was basically the bargain bin TinTen and it didn’t benefit him to have her dead.
The thing could kill Tor. Oh, Tor. Was Tor a threat? Heh. Ha ha. Ahahahahahaha. Haaaaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa! Ahem. No, Kerak, just thought of something my mother once said. Go along and fight the monster, now.
No, it wouldn’t benefit Scofflaw for anyone else but he personally to get rid of Tor, and he figured he’d save that for a late round, take his time with it.
The monster might kill Velobo. This option intrigued Scofflaw, who knew a hero when he saw one. The cube had… pluck. Pluck always made Scofflaw uncomfortable, especially in underdogs. Yes, it might be best to let Mr. Calidad face his dragon and lose.
As he always did in quandaries like this, Scofflaw did the thing that made him seem most impressive. He took out a book of matches and stepped forward into the whirlwind of sand and tentacles. “Lovecraftian horrors,” he announced, lighting a match, “hate fire.” He tossed the match at the beast and it lit up with a noise that could only be articulated using more than six of the letter “h.”
By the time the sand had all figured out which way was down and the smell of seafood had dispersed through the chamber, Scofflaw was already making his way towards the door that Chaos had supplied for the Battlers as though rewarding them for their victory. The villain beckoned, not looking back. “Come along, children,” he said, giddily. “We’re off to see the wizard.”
Scofflaw had employed dinosaurs in the past, but none of them had ever been so… goofy. He’d always had the feeling that he was living in a cartoon, but associating with Kerak gave him the feeling that he was living in a cartoon from a different age, one with less Eastern influence and bereft of the post-Columbine fretting about child psychology.
The Deinonychus’ slapstick fixation with food would probably have been a negative when establishing a partnership with a man who, to be honest, could probably drop a few pounds and still retain his commanding presence. However, the good news was that Kerak didn’t hunger like a beast so much as he craved, like a pregnant woman, and right now he was craving Murdoch. Scofflaw was happy to play the role of chef and waiter.
The dinosaur, his brain like Jetsam’s apparently affected by the presence of chaos, seemed to be able to sniff out the trail of Unity exuded by the magician. That or he was just trotting through the halls pretending to know where he was going. Either way, Scofflaw was pleased to follow, so long as they didn’t wind up back where the other contestants were busy Grand Battling. A quick execution for Miles would certainly play to his advantage, but either way, the round would be coming to an end soon with all the plasma swirling about.
When it became apparent that they were catching up to the magician Scofflaw could perceive it too—a faint humming, in a register almost too high for him to hear, almost self-aggrandizing in its harmony. It was the sound of Unity. Scofflaw found it a bit bothersome.
The sound stopped, as though Chaos had just had a better idea, and a wall burst forth and released a ton of vaguely foul-smelling sand on top of Kerak and Scofflaw. The villain gave a bit of a girly yelp and flailed around as the sand got under his clothes and threatened to hang around itchily in his joints for days to come. By the time the two had gotten their bearings, the corridor was gone.
In its place was a massive, cavernous chamber, dominated by some manner of nightmare-creature that hung from the ceiling and seemed to be contributing to the slowly rising level of sand. Locked in fruitless battle with it were the other Grand Battle contestants, the ones Scofflaw had forgotten about.
Scofflaw hung back and weighed his options. If he stood and did nothing, the monster would probably kill one of the other constestants and progress the battle to the next round. That would be a short-term benefit, but of course probably prove detrimental in the much more important battle against Miles.
Four possibilities. Scratch that: five possibilities, counting the chance, however slim, that this gibbering echinoderm could actually kill Scofflaw. He dismissed that notion quickly.
The monster could kill Kerak. That wasn’t good; Kerak, as well as being a spectacularly low threat, might prove to be an excellent minion in time.
It could kill Tengeri. Was Tengeri a threat? Scofflaw squinted and watched the serpent grappling valiantly against the Thing. He supposed she was very frightening, what with her teeth and her absurdly advanced technology. He tried to imagine her getting the better of him. It was… hard. He decided that she was basically the bargain bin TinTen and it didn’t benefit him to have her dead.
The thing could kill Tor. Oh, Tor. Was Tor a threat? Heh. Ha ha. Ahahahahahaha. Haaaaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa! Ahem. No, Kerak, just thought of something my mother once said. Go along and fight the monster, now.
No, it wouldn’t benefit Scofflaw for anyone else but he personally to get rid of Tor, and he figured he’d save that for a late round, take his time with it.
The monster might kill Velobo. This option intrigued Scofflaw, who knew a hero when he saw one. The cube had… pluck. Pluck always made Scofflaw uncomfortable, especially in underdogs. Yes, it might be best to let Mr. Calidad face his dragon and lose.
As he always did in quandaries like this, Scofflaw did the thing that made him seem most impressive. He took out a book of matches and stepped forward into the whirlwind of sand and tentacles. “Lovecraftian horrors,” he announced, lighting a match, “hate fire.” He tossed the match at the beast and it lit up with a noise that could only be articulated using more than six of the letter “h.”
By the time the sand had all figured out which way was down and the smell of seafood had dispersed through the chamber, Scofflaw was already making his way towards the door that Chaos had supplied for the Battlers as though rewarding them for their victory. The villain beckoned, not looking back. “Come along, children,” he said, giddily. “We’re off to see the wizard.”