Re: The $300,000 Fight-A-Thon! [Round One: Storage Park!]
10-02-2012, 06:24 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by ~ATH.
Warden's mind never idled while they searched through boxes, not even once. He was constantly analyzing and rechecking the other contestants. Ironjaw and Axys had to be stopped, as they would just get in the way. His primary target was the Arch-Sinner himself, but he also needed to make sure they were taken care of. Meanwhile, his attention shifted to two other contestants he had not seen before. The grotesque serpentine thing, named Guillemet, was definitely a sinner, as she has held a callous lack of respect for living things in her experiments, as well as looting and razing villages. She definitely had to be taken in as well. The cat, on the other hand, was different. His line was by far the longest and brightest out of all of them. Warden had mistakenly assumed that he was just an ordinary cat in the introductions. That mistake will not be again, he assured himself.
He rifled through boxes and boxes, caring very little about whatever was inside, except to make sure that it was thrown where he already searched. His mind held no concept of boredom, so he worked meticulously.
---
[color=#P1914]Ironjaw growled. It was a fierce, ragged growl, befitting of a monster like him. He turned tail and ran away. He never cried. Sharks do not cry. He slowed down to a walk, remembering his past. It came forth, no matter how much he tried to repress it. He wiped a tear away, pretending it didn't exist.
Then, he nearly ran into Warden. He backed out and huddled in a corner. Hm, he would very much prefer that demon to be on his side, but how to persuade him? Hmm. He repressed his memories, and took action. He peered around the corner. Warden seemed to be looking for something. How odd. He took note of his injured arm. Then, he remembered. Back then, he had knocked over a box containing gears. Maybe that's what he needed? He went back to get it, and approached Warden, as diplomatically as possible.
"Hey, clockhead. Looking for something?"
Okay, so he wasn't much of a diplomat.[/color]
Warden turned around at the sound of Ironjaw's voice, and it was indeed Ironjaw. Excellent. He would detain this sinner right away.... Then he saw what Ironjaw was holding. A box of gears. Exactly what he needed. Held by a sinner.
[color=#P1914]"Heheheh, if you want this box, you'll have to tell me how you plan on taking the Coach down. I want that bastard dead as much as you."[/color]
Warden weighed his options. And immediately came to a conclusion.
"Very well. I shall tell you. The walls between each storage are actually walls between dimensions. We have decided to blast down these walls and break out of this world."
[color=#P1914]"That's all? Haha, I can do that easy."[/color]
"Start with the ceilings."
[color=#P1914]"Gotcha. This could be fun..."[/color]
There was really no other way. This way, he'd kill two birds with one stone, and his body would be repaired. He made his way back to the engineers.
Ironjaw started blasting away at the ceiling's fragile windows. Multiversal glass rained down on the arena, tearing the boxes apart and prompting those inside the Coach's warehouse to relocate to the nearest warehouse, post haste. Some went to the Composer's, and some went to the mysterious gorey warehouse.
---
Elsewhere, Thize opened a door. He was promptly flabbergasted by what lay behind. A swimming pool. A swimming pool! He whooped gleefully and jumped in the pool, finally in his native element. He closed his eyes blissfully, failing to notice the ominous shadow rising up behind him.
---
Warden evacuated the Coach's warehouse, boxes still in tow. He had ended up in a most unusual arrangement of musical instruments. Hm. He wandered around for a bit, taking in the delightful music coming from the ethereal instruments, all somehow playing on their own. His ticking became rhythmatic, flowing. Tick, tickticktock, tick, ticktick- CRASH. Suddenly, one of his fists flew into a harpsichord. The music stopped. His ticking resumed normal second-by-second procedure. That was close. He'd nearly lost his place in the flow of time.
Warden's mind never idled while they searched through boxes, not even once. He was constantly analyzing and rechecking the other contestants. Ironjaw and Axys had to be stopped, as they would just get in the way. His primary target was the Arch-Sinner himself, but he also needed to make sure they were taken care of. Meanwhile, his attention shifted to two other contestants he had not seen before. The grotesque serpentine thing, named Guillemet, was definitely a sinner, as she has held a callous lack of respect for living things in her experiments, as well as looting and razing villages. She definitely had to be taken in as well. The cat, on the other hand, was different. His line was by far the longest and brightest out of all of them. Warden had mistakenly assumed that he was just an ordinary cat in the introductions. That mistake will not be again, he assured himself.
He rifled through boxes and boxes, caring very little about whatever was inside, except to make sure that it was thrown where he already searched. His mind held no concept of boredom, so he worked meticulously.
---
[color=#P1914]Ironjaw growled. It was a fierce, ragged growl, befitting of a monster like him. He turned tail and ran away. He never cried. Sharks do not cry. He slowed down to a walk, remembering his past. It came forth, no matter how much he tried to repress it. He wiped a tear away, pretending it didn't exist.
Then, he nearly ran into Warden. He backed out and huddled in a corner. Hm, he would very much prefer that demon to be on his side, but how to persuade him? Hmm. He repressed his memories, and took action. He peered around the corner. Warden seemed to be looking for something. How odd. He took note of his injured arm. Then, he remembered. Back then, he had knocked over a box containing gears. Maybe that's what he needed? He went back to get it, and approached Warden, as diplomatically as possible.
"Hey, clockhead. Looking for something?"
Okay, so he wasn't much of a diplomat.[/color]
Warden turned around at the sound of Ironjaw's voice, and it was indeed Ironjaw. Excellent. He would detain this sinner right away.... Then he saw what Ironjaw was holding. A box of gears. Exactly what he needed. Held by a sinner.
[color=#P1914]"Heheheh, if you want this box, you'll have to tell me how you plan on taking the Coach down. I want that bastard dead as much as you."[/color]
Warden weighed his options. And immediately came to a conclusion.
"Very well. I shall tell you. The walls between each storage are actually walls between dimensions. We have decided to blast down these walls and break out of this world."
[color=#P1914]"That's all? Haha, I can do that easy."[/color]
"Start with the ceilings."
[color=#P1914]"Gotcha. This could be fun..."[/color]
There was really no other way. This way, he'd kill two birds with one stone, and his body would be repaired. He made his way back to the engineers.
Ironjaw started blasting away at the ceiling's fragile windows. Multiversal glass rained down on the arena, tearing the boxes apart and prompting those inside the Coach's warehouse to relocate to the nearest warehouse, post haste. Some went to the Composer's, and some went to the mysterious gorey warehouse.
---
Elsewhere, Thize opened a door. He was promptly flabbergasted by what lay behind. A swimming pool. A swimming pool! He whooped gleefully and jumped in the pool, finally in his native element. He closed his eyes blissfully, failing to notice the ominous shadow rising up behind him.
---
Warden evacuated the Coach's warehouse, boxes still in tow. He had ended up in a most unusual arrangement of musical instruments. Hm. He wandered around for a bit, taking in the delightful music coming from the ethereal instruments, all somehow playing on their own. His ticking became rhythmatic, flowing. Tick, tickticktock, tick, ticktick- CRASH. Suddenly, one of his fists flew into a harpsichord. The music stopped. His ticking resumed normal second-by-second procedure. That was close. He'd nearly lost his place in the flow of time.
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