Re: Epic Clash Round 2 - The Wax Colosseum
02-26-2010, 05:07 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
"I hate mist. There's nothing but mist down there, and nothing than mist up here. I was hoping to at least see the sun once after coming back to life..." Asteira hated the sun with a passion of the sun itself. It was always too bright, doesn't work by any schedule, never keeps promises, and was considered the god of everything righteous. The only thing more wretched than the sun was the world's god-awful idea of it and myths surrounding it always ending happily. For her, it was an orb in the sky providing light and nothing more. But not anymore. After a dreaded amount of eternities underground, she was longing for just one ray. She took time to reassess the situation somewhere higher up, but was caught unaware by a new wax woman playing her recording. "What are you still doing here? Bryce blew you up!" "I am here to surveil the fight." "That would be a lot easier if you would just get that bloody mist out of the way!" The woman became irritated, but didn't gave way in the slightest. "Please don't object to my judgement, the fate of the wax contestants may verily befall any of you." "Cut it out, that high and mighty attitude." "Please don't object to my judgement, the fate of the wax contestants may verily befall any of you." "Oh, I get it. You're not a real person. No point conversing with you then." The woman didn't mind Asteira getting a better look on the surroundings from up there, for what it was worth. Noticing a wax statue in what might have very well been a corner, she headed over to the ground again. "Oh, this can get interesting! Now who do we have here..." Tapping the display of the orb on the wax statue displayed only a front name.
"Who freed me, one of Medusa's sisters, most frightening of the Gorgons?"[/color] Having shaken off all wax remnants, Euryale stood in the veil of mist, in all her fiendish glory. Her snakes for hair danced in the wind of change and freedom, and a demonous grim appeared on her ugly face. "I'm Asteira, I am what people of your age considered a consul. I freed you, so you would free me. Trap anyone in stone with your gaze, to pass on the baton of doom - this ball, mind you - to a weak and harmless player." It was clear that Asteira's ways were in line of Euryale's. "There is an interesting story to that one. You see, I am actually the weakest, compared to my two siblings. My gaze only traps people in - you guessed it - wax. But why did it not work on you?" "You see, I died once." A puzzled Euryale did not press further on the subject. Asteira once again had to spark the conversation. She was tired of the small-talk. "Did you trap these people in sculptures? Did you create this devilish arena?" "I'm afraid so. Once my work was done, they tricked me into perceiving my own gaze. I was petrified, but not killed. I, unlike Medusa, had and have immortality."
A quick slip of footwear on top of the walls surrounding the playfield betrayed Michelle's position. "Craaap! It saw me!"
"I'll just be a second..." Asteira headed upward again, cornering Michelle on the border of the wax coliseum. "What in blazes do you think you're doing?!"
"I hate mist. There's nothing but mist down there, and nothing than mist up here. I was hoping to at least see the sun once after coming back to life..." Asteira hated the sun with a passion of the sun itself. It was always too bright, doesn't work by any schedule, never keeps promises, and was considered the god of everything righteous. The only thing more wretched than the sun was the world's god-awful idea of it and myths surrounding it always ending happily. For her, it was an orb in the sky providing light and nothing more. But not anymore. After a dreaded amount of eternities underground, she was longing for just one ray. She took time to reassess the situation somewhere higher up, but was caught unaware by a new wax woman playing her recording. "What are you still doing here? Bryce blew you up!" "I am here to surveil the fight." "That would be a lot easier if you would just get that bloody mist out of the way!" The woman became irritated, but didn't gave way in the slightest. "Please don't object to my judgement, the fate of the wax contestants may verily befall any of you." "Cut it out, that high and mighty attitude." "Please don't object to my judgement, the fate of the wax contestants may verily befall any of you." "Oh, I get it. You're not a real person. No point conversing with you then." The woman didn't mind Asteira getting a better look on the surroundings from up there, for what it was worth. Noticing a wax statue in what might have very well been a corner, she headed over to the ground again. "Oh, this can get interesting! Now who do we have here..." Tapping the display of the orb on the wax statue displayed only a front name.
EURYALE
"It can't be... Euryale isn't from this day and age... How did she get here?"[/color] Asteira took no notice of the zombie survivor spying on her from above, and in all secrecy, reached for Girgid's lance. Lance was a tad misleading, for Girgid was an imp. What was to him a lance, was to her a chisel. And chisel she did. After a minute or two, Euryale was free once more."Who freed me, one of Medusa's sisters, most frightening of the Gorgons?"[/color] Having shaken off all wax remnants, Euryale stood in the veil of mist, in all her fiendish glory. Her snakes for hair danced in the wind of change and freedom, and a demonous grim appeared on her ugly face. "I'm Asteira, I am what people of your age considered a consul. I freed you, so you would free me. Trap anyone in stone with your gaze, to pass on the baton of doom - this ball, mind you - to a weak and harmless player." It was clear that Asteira's ways were in line of Euryale's. "There is an interesting story to that one. You see, I am actually the weakest, compared to my two siblings. My gaze only traps people in - you guessed it - wax. But why did it not work on you?" "You see, I died once." A puzzled Euryale did not press further on the subject. Asteira once again had to spark the conversation. She was tired of the small-talk. "Did you trap these people in sculptures? Did you create this devilish arena?" "I'm afraid so. Once my work was done, they tricked me into perceiving my own gaze. I was petrified, but not killed. I, unlike Medusa, had and have immortality."
A quick slip of footwear on top of the walls surrounding the playfield betrayed Michelle's position. "Craaap! It saw me!"
"I'll just be a second..." Asteira headed upward again, cornering Michelle on the border of the wax coliseum. "What in blazes do you think you're doing?!"
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.