Re: The Relentless Slaughter [Round 1: Untitled-1]
02-16-2011, 04:31 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.
Immediately, Samael collapsed, clutching his chest. And immediately afterwards, he bounced back up onto his feet, uneasily rubbing his ribs and looking around and ooooooooh man how did this even happen.
Uneasiness turned into calm. If he died here, what was the problem? Just another cycle. Though admittedly with a…really strange ending. All he had to do was walk around a bit and whenever he carked it, he’d pop back into Hell for a brief hello before starting a new life. And in the meantime, he could do something useful. Rub elbows with the others. Or whatever.
Remember, remember, it’s only for this round, little Sammy. If you don’t die here, then it’ll be another eternal torment by the hands of an insane, morbid being who’s probably a bit more imaginative than dear Lord Satan.
So, either all or nothing. Or something like that. Well, however it turns out, he supposed he’d have to see it through.
Samael quickly hopped out of the way of a wandering pencil that seemed determined to construct as detailed a background as possible. Experimentally, he tapped on the newly drawn floor with a foot. Hm, certainly sounded like stone. Interesting.
First thing he should do: find other contestants. There were times when you needed a friend and times when you just had to be alone and this wasn’t a particularly good time to be alone.
Thinking about the other souls dragged into this mess, Samael couldn’t help but let his mind wander to his own, brief introduction. He scoffed. As though someone else could judge him good or evil like that. As though anybody could define someone in such black and white terms. As though being one thing immediately meant being another. He had to wonder, were angels really all that good?
Without even the courtesy of a small pop, two bright clementines appeared in his hand and, as he started down the hall that was being drawn around him, he started juggling them one-handedly. Who could possibly be fooled by the Tormentor’s words when they were so obviously made to incite action against him before he could explain? People nowadays were reasonable. And anybody could realize that this guy couldn’t really be trusted, huh?
…Frightened people weren’t reasonable.
…This sort of situation certainly happened before.
An eraser came along and rubbed a flying clementine from existence. Samael didn’t notice too much.
He didn’t look too threatening, or weird or something, did he?
Next to a giant spider? Ha. And that alien thing and the…the…Rollo. Huh. How do you take a cartoon character? How did the show work then? In any case, he had to look relatively normal. At least from his own perspective. Giant spiders and alien things probably didn’t see humanoids very often.
But…maybe…he should pull down his hat a little more...I mean…sometimes the way he looked…it could be alarming, you know. At least over the eyes, you know. And maybe he should take out the gloves.
The other clementine had already vanished by the time he dug around his pockets for his gloves, though he didn’t quite notice this either. Under the crackling light of black and white torches (or rather, the light of the generally white background…how did that work?), he pulled on the gloves (made in China, like most everything else, a hand-me-down before finding its way to a pawn shop, where he managed to haggle it down to its actual worth rather than the overpriced tag it had on), popped a couple more clementines into existence, and juggled as he whistled. Now he wouldn’t make a bad first impression, right? Right.
Ahead of him, more stone walls were being drawn. He had yet to see any doors. This sort of worried him. But this dungeon castle place was still in the process of being made. Perhaps there’ll be some doors later.
Samael came at a dead end. He glanced over his shoulder and wasn’t too surprised to see a new brick wall had erected itself right behind him, thus trapping him in a small, square area. He could still see through the bricks, though. Probably because they weren’t colored in yet.
It seemed as though the floating pencil was busy scribbling something above him. Samael ignored the sound and tried sticking his hand through the white space in the bricks. Ah, went right through. Good. Tugging on the outlines for a bit, he finally managed to bring his foot up and push one line down, scrunching up all the bricks below, while holding the rest up wide and open. And then it was a matter of just stepping through and moving away quickly once he let go. The brick snapped back into shape, and he was back in white space. An anvil crashed down where he had been before. How childish. And now the malicious artist was drawing the environment around him again.
Okay, so if he remembered correctly, that had been a tablet in the tormenting dude’s hands arms things. And this was called the Canvas, with a nice, important, capital letter. So was this supposed to be a…two-dimensional space…? If he was drawing on a tablet, of course. But then there wouldn’t be depth. And there wouldn’t have been four walls, would there? Because on a two-dimensional space, he wouldn’t be able to build up a fourth wall without obscuring his view…or something. Though the bricks sort of seemed two-dimensional. How could you draw something on a three-dimensional plane anyways? Unless…he was drawing from a fourth-dimensional point of view…? But he was clearly holding something that only allowed a two-dimensional plane and oh man now this was starting to hurt his head.
But the physics of this sort of thing was interesting. He couldn’t help but think he would enjoy figuring out the rules of this world.
Though his optimism was dampened slightly when he found that he was all of a sudden walking on water. Only he didn’t really have that ability. Samael made quite a large splash and as he treaded water, he couldn’t help but think how juvenile this was. He also couldn’t help but wonder what differentiated water from just a plain floor, as besides his now-soaked clothes, he couldn’t really tell the difference.
Around him, the water was suddenly colored blue. Then he could see the beginnings of an alligator being drawn. Underneath his hat, he rolled his eyes.
Immediately, Samael collapsed, clutching his chest. And immediately afterwards, he bounced back up onto his feet, uneasily rubbing his ribs and looking around and ooooooooh man how did this even happen.
Uneasiness turned into calm. If he died here, what was the problem? Just another cycle. Though admittedly with a…really strange ending. All he had to do was walk around a bit and whenever he carked it, he’d pop back into Hell for a brief hello before starting a new life. And in the meantime, he could do something useful. Rub elbows with the others. Or whatever.
Remember, remember, it’s only for this round, little Sammy. If you don’t die here, then it’ll be another eternal torment by the hands of an insane, morbid being who’s probably a bit more imaginative than dear Lord Satan.
So, either all or nothing. Or something like that. Well, however it turns out, he supposed he’d have to see it through.
Samael quickly hopped out of the way of a wandering pencil that seemed determined to construct as detailed a background as possible. Experimentally, he tapped on the newly drawn floor with a foot. Hm, certainly sounded like stone. Interesting.
First thing he should do: find other contestants. There were times when you needed a friend and times when you just had to be alone and this wasn’t a particularly good time to be alone.
Thinking about the other souls dragged into this mess, Samael couldn’t help but let his mind wander to his own, brief introduction. He scoffed. As though someone else could judge him good or evil like that. As though anybody could define someone in such black and white terms. As though being one thing immediately meant being another. He had to wonder, were angels really all that good?
Without even the courtesy of a small pop, two bright clementines appeared in his hand and, as he started down the hall that was being drawn around him, he started juggling them one-handedly. Who could possibly be fooled by the Tormentor’s words when they were so obviously made to incite action against him before he could explain? People nowadays were reasonable. And anybody could realize that this guy couldn’t really be trusted, huh?
…Frightened people weren’t reasonable.
…This sort of situation certainly happened before.
An eraser came along and rubbed a flying clementine from existence. Samael didn’t notice too much.
He didn’t look too threatening, or weird or something, did he?
Next to a giant spider? Ha. And that alien thing and the…the…Rollo. Huh. How do you take a cartoon character? How did the show work then? In any case, he had to look relatively normal. At least from his own perspective. Giant spiders and alien things probably didn’t see humanoids very often.
But…maybe…he should pull down his hat a little more...I mean…sometimes the way he looked…it could be alarming, you know. At least over the eyes, you know. And maybe he should take out the gloves.
The other clementine had already vanished by the time he dug around his pockets for his gloves, though he didn’t quite notice this either. Under the crackling light of black and white torches (or rather, the light of the generally white background…how did that work?), he pulled on the gloves (made in China, like most everything else, a hand-me-down before finding its way to a pawn shop, where he managed to haggle it down to its actual worth rather than the overpriced tag it had on), popped a couple more clementines into existence, and juggled as he whistled. Now he wouldn’t make a bad first impression, right? Right.
Ahead of him, more stone walls were being drawn. He had yet to see any doors. This sort of worried him. But this dungeon castle place was still in the process of being made. Perhaps there’ll be some doors later.
Samael came at a dead end. He glanced over his shoulder and wasn’t too surprised to see a new brick wall had erected itself right behind him, thus trapping him in a small, square area. He could still see through the bricks, though. Probably because they weren’t colored in yet.
It seemed as though the floating pencil was busy scribbling something above him. Samael ignored the sound and tried sticking his hand through the white space in the bricks. Ah, went right through. Good. Tugging on the outlines for a bit, he finally managed to bring his foot up and push one line down, scrunching up all the bricks below, while holding the rest up wide and open. And then it was a matter of just stepping through and moving away quickly once he let go. The brick snapped back into shape, and he was back in white space. An anvil crashed down where he had been before. How childish. And now the malicious artist was drawing the environment around him again.
Okay, so if he remembered correctly, that had been a tablet in the tormenting dude’s hands arms things. And this was called the Canvas, with a nice, important, capital letter. So was this supposed to be a…two-dimensional space…? If he was drawing on a tablet, of course. But then there wouldn’t be depth. And there wouldn’t have been four walls, would there? Because on a two-dimensional space, he wouldn’t be able to build up a fourth wall without obscuring his view…or something. Though the bricks sort of seemed two-dimensional. How could you draw something on a three-dimensional plane anyways? Unless…he was drawing from a fourth-dimensional point of view…? But he was clearly holding something that only allowed a two-dimensional plane and oh man now this was starting to hurt his head.
But the physics of this sort of thing was interesting. He couldn’t help but think he would enjoy figuring out the rules of this world.
Though his optimism was dampened slightly when he found that he was all of a sudden walking on water. Only he didn’t really have that ability. Samael made quite a large splash and as he treaded water, he couldn’t help but think how juvenile this was. He also couldn’t help but wonder what differentiated water from just a plain floor, as besides his now-soaked clothes, he couldn’t really tell the difference.
Around him, the water was suddenly colored blue. Then he could see the beginnings of an alligator being drawn. Underneath his hat, he rolled his eyes.