Re: The $300,000 Fight-A-Thon! [Round One: Storage Park!]
10-22-2012, 04:48 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Flummox.
Felus spit feathers out of his mouth and kicked the ruined, empty husk of a pillow out of his way. Stroke of pure luck. Goddamn useless powers. He pulled splinters out of his paws with his teeth. Where was that shark-faced bastard? Saved his pitiful life and he left him to die, left him to suffocate under a mountain of feathers. Yeah, and that ridiculous lion-maned sucker, what a sorry excuse for a homicidal maniac. Felus would find them and then he would have his little revenge. Let him break the geas, lose his powers! They were no good, so unreliable. He spat out wood. Bastard.
A dying shark flopped on the ground next to Felus, a missile strapped to its back. He laughed. Oh, the depravity of humanity knew no bounds. He sat down next to it and began to eat. Not as good as tuna, but fish was fish. Whether it was desecrated by the foul touch of science or not. Science! Humans think they are better than everything else. They think they can take things from where they belong and put them elsewhere. They think they understand how nature works. Felus felt his anger rising, rising to a peak. Images of Ironjaw flashed in his mind and he saw him in a new light, as a symbol of human defiance of the gods. A symbol of all that he is fighting against, all that is evil, he must be destroyed. Felus spit out shark-meat, no longer hungry.
He kicked the shark. The missile on its back detonated, sending chunks of meat and blood splattering into Felus’s fur. He grinned, imagined himself the very picture of a bloodstained destroyer on a quest of vengeance. This wasn’t about him anymore, it was more than that. It was about revenge on human atrocity.
It was time to begin the hunt. He tried to leap gloriously over the top of the box pyramid but slipped on a puddle of blood and fell on his face. Disgrace! He would have to do this cautiously, then, stalking his prey slowly. No, better, he would befriend the prey, wait for a moment of unsuspicion, when its back is turned, then he would stab it in the back. And in Ironjaw’s dying moments he would look into Felus’s eyes and see the hate that had been boiling for eons and then he would feel what it’s like to be betrayed. Emotional defeat, physical death. Felus threw his head back and laughed, surprisingly humanly.
He gracefully trotted around the pyramid of boxes, head held high, nose pointing to the ceiling as his divine heritage had required, ignoring that his dainty image might have been offset by the blood matting his fur and the piece of entrail dangling between his eyes.
A terrific banging sound echoed through the warehouse. The music stopped and Felus realized that there had been music playing. Such an out-of-tune cacophony would surely damage his ears. It had certainly interrupted his flow of thought and this would not do, not at all. He would find the perpetrator. Perhaps they could lead him to Ironjaw. The sound seemed to have come from a hole in the wall. Felus peered inside to find a room that seemed as though it sported organized rows of musical instruments. The floor was steeped like an orchestra pit and painted a shade of blue that he liked to think was rather close to his fur color. The room was dark, the house lights were off. Felus’s pupils widened into full circles and he peered around for a perpetrator.
Climbing onto a French horn, he spotted motion a few rows over and leapt onto a drumset. A massive collection of churning gears spun slowly below him. This must be the being responsible.
“Listen, jerkface,” he said. “I liked the music.” Maybe not the best opening line.
<font color="#100020">“It is frivolous,” said Warden. “Hedonist pleasures detract from piety.”
“Yeeah, is that the way it is? Who are you anyway, I’m not in a good mood.”
“I am the Warden of the Sixth Ring of Inferno.”
“Ha!” Felus put a paw over his mouth to stifle laughter. “Hell? Christian Hell? That’s ridiculous. Even Hominus acknowledges its nonexistence.”
“I have no quarrel with you, pure one.”
“Pure one! This is too rich!” He leapt onto Warden’s head, gleefully walking against the spinning so that he remained on top, tail pointing at the ceiling. “Listen, numbskull,” there was a soft click as Felus’s claws unsheathed and connected with Warden’s solid metal body, “you had better tell me who you really are, because I don’t really feel like fooling around.”
“Enough!” Warden tore Felus off his head and hurled him against a tuba. “You will not deny the truth! Sinner.” The row of tubas began to tip.
Felus scrabbled to his feet. “I’m not a sinner you hardhead! I am a god.”
“You shall see the truth soon enough.” Warden drew back a fist to crush Felus. “We will meet in Hell, once I have regained my rightful position.”
The row of tubas fell and the room was consumed by the sound of clanging metal. Felus bolted in the chaos, barely fitting in the gap between Warden’s bottom gear and the floor. Warden spun –
“You’ll not escape!”
– fist slamming into the ground, throwing sparks into the darkness and leaving a long furrow. Instruments clattered and a resonant clamor of notes rang through the room. He raised another hand but paused.
“Your entry in the catalogue!” he said. “Still white! Unblemished!”
“You’d better start making some sense, cause I’m about done with your bullshit.”
“Impossible. Who has pardoned you?” Did Warden’s face stop spinning for an instant?
“Alright. I’m done.” Felus walked back over to the hole. “Thanks for wasting my time.”
“Stop!” Warden shoved himself between the hole and Felus. “You’ll not go anywhere until I’ve found what to do with you.”
Felus sighed. “We’ll be here forever.”
</font>
Felus spit feathers out of his mouth and kicked the ruined, empty husk of a pillow out of his way. Stroke of pure luck. Goddamn useless powers. He pulled splinters out of his paws with his teeth. Where was that shark-faced bastard? Saved his pitiful life and he left him to die, left him to suffocate under a mountain of feathers. Yeah, and that ridiculous lion-maned sucker, what a sorry excuse for a homicidal maniac. Felus would find them and then he would have his little revenge. Let him break the geas, lose his powers! They were no good, so unreliable. He spat out wood. Bastard.
A dying shark flopped on the ground next to Felus, a missile strapped to its back. He laughed. Oh, the depravity of humanity knew no bounds. He sat down next to it and began to eat. Not as good as tuna, but fish was fish. Whether it was desecrated by the foul touch of science or not. Science! Humans think they are better than everything else. They think they can take things from where they belong and put them elsewhere. They think they understand how nature works. Felus felt his anger rising, rising to a peak. Images of Ironjaw flashed in his mind and he saw him in a new light, as a symbol of human defiance of the gods. A symbol of all that he is fighting against, all that is evil, he must be destroyed. Felus spit out shark-meat, no longer hungry.
He kicked the shark. The missile on its back detonated, sending chunks of meat and blood splattering into Felus’s fur. He grinned, imagined himself the very picture of a bloodstained destroyer on a quest of vengeance. This wasn’t about him anymore, it was more than that. It was about revenge on human atrocity.
It was time to begin the hunt. He tried to leap gloriously over the top of the box pyramid but slipped on a puddle of blood and fell on his face. Disgrace! He would have to do this cautiously, then, stalking his prey slowly. No, better, he would befriend the prey, wait for a moment of unsuspicion, when its back is turned, then he would stab it in the back. And in Ironjaw’s dying moments he would look into Felus’s eyes and see the hate that had been boiling for eons and then he would feel what it’s like to be betrayed. Emotional defeat, physical death. Felus threw his head back and laughed, surprisingly humanly.
He gracefully trotted around the pyramid of boxes, head held high, nose pointing to the ceiling as his divine heritage had required, ignoring that his dainty image might have been offset by the blood matting his fur and the piece of entrail dangling between his eyes.
A terrific banging sound echoed through the warehouse. The music stopped and Felus realized that there had been music playing. Such an out-of-tune cacophony would surely damage his ears. It had certainly interrupted his flow of thought and this would not do, not at all. He would find the perpetrator. Perhaps they could lead him to Ironjaw. The sound seemed to have come from a hole in the wall. Felus peered inside to find a room that seemed as though it sported organized rows of musical instruments. The floor was steeped like an orchestra pit and painted a shade of blue that he liked to think was rather close to his fur color. The room was dark, the house lights were off. Felus’s pupils widened into full circles and he peered around for a perpetrator.
Climbing onto a French horn, he spotted motion a few rows over and leapt onto a drumset. A massive collection of churning gears spun slowly below him. This must be the being responsible.
“Listen, jerkface,” he said. “I liked the music.” Maybe not the best opening line.
<font color="#100020">“It is frivolous,” said Warden. “Hedonist pleasures detract from piety.”
“Yeeah, is that the way it is? Who are you anyway, I’m not in a good mood.”
“I am the Warden of the Sixth Ring of Inferno.”
“Ha!” Felus put a paw over his mouth to stifle laughter. “Hell? Christian Hell? That’s ridiculous. Even Hominus acknowledges its nonexistence.”
“I have no quarrel with you, pure one.”
“Pure one! This is too rich!” He leapt onto Warden’s head, gleefully walking against the spinning so that he remained on top, tail pointing at the ceiling. “Listen, numbskull,” there was a soft click as Felus’s claws unsheathed and connected with Warden’s solid metal body, “you had better tell me who you really are, because I don’t really feel like fooling around.”
“Enough!” Warden tore Felus off his head and hurled him against a tuba. “You will not deny the truth! Sinner.” The row of tubas began to tip.
Felus scrabbled to his feet. “I’m not a sinner you hardhead! I am a god.”
“You shall see the truth soon enough.” Warden drew back a fist to crush Felus. “We will meet in Hell, once I have regained my rightful position.”
The row of tubas fell and the room was consumed by the sound of clanging metal. Felus bolted in the chaos, barely fitting in the gap between Warden’s bottom gear and the floor. Warden spun –
“You’ll not escape!”
– fist slamming into the ground, throwing sparks into the darkness and leaving a long furrow. Instruments clattered and a resonant clamor of notes rang through the room. He raised another hand but paused.
“Your entry in the catalogue!” he said. “Still white! Unblemished!”
“You’d better start making some sense, cause I’m about done with your bullshit.”
“Impossible. Who has pardoned you?” Did Warden’s face stop spinning for an instant?
“Alright. I’m done.” Felus walked back over to the hole. “Thanks for wasting my time.”
“Stop!” Warden shoved himself between the hole and Felus. “You’ll not go anywhere until I’ve found what to do with you.”
Felus sighed. “We’ll be here forever.”
</font>