Re: Epic Clash Round 1 - Dungeon of the Crimson Fish
02-22-2010, 09:09 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.
James Raven's metallic boots clanged rhythmically against the stone floor as he trodded behind Glere down another nondescript, blue stone tunnel. His gaze was directed downwards, only occasionally glancing up at his new partner. He noticed a small stone directly in his path and his eye narrowed. He tilted his head a bit to the side. It really did look like a face, didn't it? What a stupid grin! Those two bits sticking out of the sides almost look like comically oversized ears.
And the perfect size for kicking. With hardly a second thought, he punted the rock ahead of him. It clattered against the stone floor and rolled to a stop. He caught up and kicked it again. Was that a squeak? Surely it was just the cave settling. Although, that man at the beginning did say something about the rocks living here, didn't he?
He shrugged and left the rock where it was. He noticed Glere had gotten a ways ahead of him and was rounding a corner out of sight. He increased his pace to catch up with the...man? Being. He felt a slight rumbling in the ground as he approached the corner, but didn't think anything of it.
Another twist followed the first, and another after that. The tunnel was winding back and forth and Glere was nowhere in sight. James found it odd that he wasn't catching up to him despite his quickened pace.
Rounding another bend, the tunnel continued straight for a long way, the ceiling growing higher, with no sign of the fishbowlkin in sight. Paranoia began to set in. Had he been duped? Was Glere hiding somewhere in the shadows? Had he been snatched away by something else? He burst into a full sprint through the tunnel and he rounded the corner at the end. He nearly ran straight into a wall. Dead end.
He knew there had been no branching tunnels. Now sure that he was being misled in some way, James spun quickly and started off sprinting back the way he came.
Again, he nearly ran straight into a wall which had not been there a moment before. His eye widened as he recognized the stone in the center of the wall. What a stupid grin.
The other contestants didn't feel the vibrations as the cavern above him opened up and released the piles and piles of mystical gear collected from previous adventurers on James's head. They didn't see the stones suddenly strip him of all his possessions and add them to the hoard. They didn't hear the giggling as the ground itself split and discarded the now-lifeless body of James Raven into a tremendous cavern below. All they heard was an echoing snap, and all they felt was the sudden and unwanted onset of sleep.
Bryce snapped twice more. With the first snap, a small bedroom materialized in the blackness behind him. With the second, seven sleeping figures on the floating screens he had been watching disappeared from them.
He leaned over on his desk and sighed, his characteristic smirk conspicuously absent. Miles spoke up behind him. "So, we're sending them to that helicopter place now, right? With the robots?"
Bryce didn't answer for a while, keeping his back to the young god. Another floating screen blinked into existence right in front of his face, and text began to scroll across it immeasurably fast. The text was replaced by a list of locations. The first on the list expanded, and a short description wrote itself out underneath. He stood and cracked his neck in both directions, rotated his shoulders, and shook his hands out.
Bryce forced the smirk back into place and turned to face Miles, pointing to the screen. "Naw bro, we're going there. Make 'em actually fight each other. Let's play good cop, bad cop."
"Oh uh... okay. Which one am I?" Miles asked, scanning the description on the screen.
Bryce chuckled. "Dude, I don't think you got any bad cop in you."
Miles's face fell a little bit. He crossed his arms and looked down. "Do so," he muttered.
"Whatever man. Just follow my lead."
The seven contestants all woke to find that, no matter how hard they tried to move, they were completely unable. Their eyes darted back and forth, but they couldn't move their heads or even speak. They each found themselves laying in bed in a small bedroom, six other contestants in bed with them. A window above the headboard filtered in bands of moonlight through the blinds. Bryce's voice piped up from below their feet, but they were unable to move their heads to see him.
"Isn't this cute. You're all in bed with one another. You're all best friends. Don't you all love each other." It was not a question, but a statment, uttered with utmost distaste. They all heard a snap, and a human form burst from nothingness in the air above their heads. Missing one arm and the opposite hand, with several scars across his chest, the body's lifeless eyes stared blankly in the bed's direction as it hung in space. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead. It waved and shook uselessly with Bryce's next words, his limbs flailing with no direction or control. "Oh, what's this? This party's missing someone! One of your super chum amigos couldn't make it! Well, let's fix that." Bryce stepped closer to the bed, now inside everyone's field of vision. He snapped, and the corpse dropped from the air, flopping across everyone's chests. The dead weight made it difficult to draw breath, for those among them that still needed it.
"That. Was. Pathetic. I brought you here to see some bloodshed. This is what I get instead? Yeah, we got a death, but none of you did it." He took another step forward and shifted, as if he were a reflection in an uneven mirror. Indistinct pieces of his body materialized around him, while other pieces warped and changed. He reached up with an arm that bend in many more places than it should have and removed his sunglasses, revealing black spheres in place of eyes. His white snarl warped into a bright gash across the space at the foot of the bed. It opened and he continued.
"Why should I even take you to the next round? What should I expect, that you'll all be having a tea party? You all gonna talk about your feelings? Are you all gonna go make out under the bleachers?" He took another step forward and the borders of his body became more indistinct. Copies of the black eyes, the white teeth, bled into view like poured honey. "You being here doesn't make you special. You're not privileged in your position here. I can find eight more to fill the space if I kill you all now. Give me a reason. Any reason not to skin you all right this second."
All were forced to remain still and silent as their entire field of vision became teeth. "What's that? Do I hear 'Overseer, we're all useless sacks of meat, devour us'? I think I-"
"Give them another chance!"
The eyes turned inward, to The Chronicler standing beside the bed. He looked over the contestants with worry. "They were picked. T...The Searchers are all gonna be upset if you kill their choices!"
The floating pieces of The Overseer congealed back into one form standing at the foot of the bed. He stared at each of them in turn during a palpable silence before covering his eyes with the sunglasses again.
He spun and took a step away, waving his hand dismissively in The Chronicler's direction "One more chance. You tell them about the next place." He snapped again.
James Raven's metallic boots clanged rhythmically against the stone floor as he trodded behind Glere down another nondescript, blue stone tunnel. His gaze was directed downwards, only occasionally glancing up at his new partner. He noticed a small stone directly in his path and his eye narrowed. He tilted his head a bit to the side. It really did look like a face, didn't it? What a stupid grin! Those two bits sticking out of the sides almost look like comically oversized ears.
And the perfect size for kicking. With hardly a second thought, he punted the rock ahead of him. It clattered against the stone floor and rolled to a stop. He caught up and kicked it again. Was that a squeak? Surely it was just the cave settling. Although, that man at the beginning did say something about the rocks living here, didn't he?
He shrugged and left the rock where it was. He noticed Glere had gotten a ways ahead of him and was rounding a corner out of sight. He increased his pace to catch up with the...man? Being. He felt a slight rumbling in the ground as he approached the corner, but didn't think anything of it.
Another twist followed the first, and another after that. The tunnel was winding back and forth and Glere was nowhere in sight. James found it odd that he wasn't catching up to him despite his quickened pace.
Rounding another bend, the tunnel continued straight for a long way, the ceiling growing higher, with no sign of the fishbowlkin in sight. Paranoia began to set in. Had he been duped? Was Glere hiding somewhere in the shadows? Had he been snatched away by something else? He burst into a full sprint through the tunnel and he rounded the corner at the end. He nearly ran straight into a wall. Dead end.
He knew there had been no branching tunnels. Now sure that he was being misled in some way, James spun quickly and started off sprinting back the way he came.
Again, he nearly ran straight into a wall which had not been there a moment before. His eye widened as he recognized the stone in the center of the wall. What a stupid grin.
The other contestants didn't feel the vibrations as the cavern above him opened up and released the piles and piles of mystical gear collected from previous adventurers on James's head. They didn't see the stones suddenly strip him of all his possessions and add them to the hoard. They didn't hear the giggling as the ground itself split and discarded the now-lifeless body of James Raven into a tremendous cavern below. All they heard was an echoing snap, and all they felt was the sudden and unwanted onset of sleep.
Bryce snapped twice more. With the first snap, a small bedroom materialized in the blackness behind him. With the second, seven sleeping figures on the floating screens he had been watching disappeared from them.
He leaned over on his desk and sighed, his characteristic smirk conspicuously absent. Miles spoke up behind him. "So, we're sending them to that helicopter place now, right? With the robots?"
Bryce didn't answer for a while, keeping his back to the young god. Another floating screen blinked into existence right in front of his face, and text began to scroll across it immeasurably fast. The text was replaced by a list of locations. The first on the list expanded, and a short description wrote itself out underneath. He stood and cracked his neck in both directions, rotated his shoulders, and shook his hands out.
Bryce forced the smirk back into place and turned to face Miles, pointing to the screen. "Naw bro, we're going there. Make 'em actually fight each other. Let's play good cop, bad cop."
"Oh uh... okay. Which one am I?" Miles asked, scanning the description on the screen.
Bryce chuckled. "Dude, I don't think you got any bad cop in you."
Miles's face fell a little bit. He crossed his arms and looked down. "Do so," he muttered.
"Whatever man. Just follow my lead."
The seven contestants all woke to find that, no matter how hard they tried to move, they were completely unable. Their eyes darted back and forth, but they couldn't move their heads or even speak. They each found themselves laying in bed in a small bedroom, six other contestants in bed with them. A window above the headboard filtered in bands of moonlight through the blinds. Bryce's voice piped up from below their feet, but they were unable to move their heads to see him.
"Isn't this cute. You're all in bed with one another. You're all best friends. Don't you all love each other." It was not a question, but a statment, uttered with utmost distaste. They all heard a snap, and a human form burst from nothingness in the air above their heads. Missing one arm and the opposite hand, with several scars across his chest, the body's lifeless eyes stared blankly in the bed's direction as it hung in space. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead. It waved and shook uselessly with Bryce's next words, his limbs flailing with no direction or control. "Oh, what's this? This party's missing someone! One of your super chum amigos couldn't make it! Well, let's fix that." Bryce stepped closer to the bed, now inside everyone's field of vision. He snapped, and the corpse dropped from the air, flopping across everyone's chests. The dead weight made it difficult to draw breath, for those among them that still needed it.
"That. Was. Pathetic. I brought you here to see some bloodshed. This is what I get instead? Yeah, we got a death, but none of you did it." He took another step forward and shifted, as if he were a reflection in an uneven mirror. Indistinct pieces of his body materialized around him, while other pieces warped and changed. He reached up with an arm that bend in many more places than it should have and removed his sunglasses, revealing black spheres in place of eyes. His white snarl warped into a bright gash across the space at the foot of the bed. It opened and he continued.
"Why should I even take you to the next round? What should I expect, that you'll all be having a tea party? You all gonna talk about your feelings? Are you all gonna go make out under the bleachers?" He took another step forward and the borders of his body became more indistinct. Copies of the black eyes, the white teeth, bled into view like poured honey. "You being here doesn't make you special. You're not privileged in your position here. I can find eight more to fill the space if I kill you all now. Give me a reason. Any reason not to skin you all right this second."
All were forced to remain still and silent as their entire field of vision became teeth. "What's that? Do I hear 'Overseer, we're all useless sacks of meat, devour us'? I think I-"
"Give them another chance!"
The eyes turned inward, to The Chronicler standing beside the bed. He looked over the contestants with worry. "They were picked. T...The Searchers are all gonna be upset if you kill their choices!"
The floating pieces of The Overseer congealed back into one form standing at the foot of the bed. He stared at each of them in turn during a palpable silence before covering his eyes with the sunglasses again.
He spun and took a step away, waving his hand dismissively in The Chronicler's direction "One more chance. You tell them about the next place." He snapped again.