Re: Epic Clash Round 2 - The Wax Colosseum
04-02-2010, 09:16 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
"Out of the hole, buck-o," Michelle said. "Nice and slow."
"Yes ma'am," Eric said, slowly and deliberately climbing out. "Whatever you say."
As soon as he began, though, she lowered her gun. "Alright, good."
Eric gave her an odd look. "Wait, what? Why-"
"Just a precaution," she said, smiling. "Would one of those wax things be able to follow those instructions?"
"We suppose not, but we haven't really run into one yet- too busy." He pulled himself into a sitting position on the edge of the hole.
"I saw," she said, gesturing to the edge of the platform. "I looked down and saw you chucking fireballs at that thing. How'd you do that, anyway?"
"We don't quite understand it ourself. It's all subdermal aetheric manipulators, but how those things work is beyond us. All we know is it wasn't doing much against Nothing."
"What?! That thing was Nothing?" I shook his hand!, she thought, shuddering.
"Yeah. When we started fighting, he just started falling apart."
Eric looked off into the distance, lost in thought, and after a moment, he blinked.
"We know this may sound odd," Greg said, "but when were you born?"
Michelle gave him a strange look. "...November 17th, why?"
"No," he said, "the year. What year were you born?"
"2086. What's it matter?"
This is wrong, Eric thought.
It's our best shot, Bern replied. Greg knows what he's talking about, and it's like he says- we've got a duty to survive.
I still don't like it.
"The Overseer said you were a survivor of a zombie uprising," Greg said slowly, staring off into the distance, "and that got us thinking. In upper-school, we took a fair number of history courses, and we have a good memory for that sort of thing."
"Wait," she said, looking at him sharply, "you learned about it in history class?"
The stone platform they were on creaked ominously.
"We touched on it briefly," he replied, still looking off into the distance. "But as we said, we have a good memory for that sort of thing."
"Then you know what happened! I mean, humans survived, but how?! How long were we cooped up inside?!"
The platform creaked again.
"The plague's spread began in 2080, quickly spreading across the globe and infecting-"
"I know that!", she said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Tell me what happened after!"
"In approximately 2112, the survivors of Yes-Mart 3 discovered a cure. They sprayed their way to the airport and loaded up as many planes as they could with canisters of the antidote and began distributing it aerially. By 2114, 95% of the walkers had been destroyed, and by 2120, humanity was well on its way to re-"
The platform shuddered, suddenly pitching to the side and throwing Michelle and Thomas into a heap. Thomas' device, still in his hand, tumbled against Michelle's arm. They managed to get onto their hands and knees and make their way to the edge, and they both decided to take the 15-foot jump rather than stay on top of the crumbling structure.
A few moments later, the stone structure had settled into a heap, and Thomas and Michelle brushed themselves off. They were covered in dust, but they were otherwise okay.
"You alright?", Greg asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Michelle replied. "What do you suppose-"
She cut herself off, aiming Betsy at the fog.
Nothing moved. A second later, though, a form began to take shape in the mist, walking towards them.
"Hold it!", she said, cocking the rifle, "Take two steps to you left and put your hands up."
The form stopped. "Calm down, I'm not here for a fight."
"Do it anyway, or I'll drop you where you stand."
See, Eric? It went fine.
I wouldn't exactly call that fine. It's just not right- if we're going to win, we should at least do it fairly.
Winning is the most fair thing to do, Bern thought. Four minds, remember?
But tagging her, then leaving it in a pile of rubble? That's just low. I don't know if I even want to live if that's what we have to do to do it.
"Out of the hole, buck-o," Michelle said. "Nice and slow."
"Yes ma'am," Eric said, slowly and deliberately climbing out. "Whatever you say."
As soon as he began, though, she lowered her gun. "Alright, good."
Eric gave her an odd look. "Wait, what? Why-"
"Just a precaution," she said, smiling. "Would one of those wax things be able to follow those instructions?"
"We suppose not, but we haven't really run into one yet- too busy." He pulled himself into a sitting position on the edge of the hole.
"I saw," she said, gesturing to the edge of the platform. "I looked down and saw you chucking fireballs at that thing. How'd you do that, anyway?"
"We don't quite understand it ourself. It's all subdermal aetheric manipulators, but how those things work is beyond us. All we know is it wasn't doing much against Nothing."
"What?! That thing was Nothing?" I shook his hand!, she thought, shuddering.
"Yeah. When we started fighting, he just started falling apart."
Eric looked off into the distance, lost in thought, and after a moment, he blinked.
"We know this may sound odd," Greg said, "but when were you born?"
Michelle gave him a strange look. "...November 17th, why?"
"No," he said, "the year. What year were you born?"
"2086. What's it matter?"
This is wrong, Eric thought.
It's our best shot, Bern replied. Greg knows what he's talking about, and it's like he says- we've got a duty to survive.
I still don't like it.
"The Overseer said you were a survivor of a zombie uprising," Greg said slowly, staring off into the distance, "and that got us thinking. In upper-school, we took a fair number of history courses, and we have a good memory for that sort of thing."
"Wait," she said, looking at him sharply, "you learned about it in history class?"
The stone platform they were on creaked ominously.
"We touched on it briefly," he replied, still looking off into the distance. "But as we said, we have a good memory for that sort of thing."
"Then you know what happened! I mean, humans survived, but how?! How long were we cooped up inside?!"
The platform creaked again.
"The plague's spread began in 2080, quickly spreading across the globe and infecting-"
"I know that!", she said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Tell me what happened after!"
"In approximately 2112, the survivors of Yes-Mart 3 discovered a cure. They sprayed their way to the airport and loaded up as many planes as they could with canisters of the antidote and began distributing it aerially. By 2114, 95% of the walkers had been destroyed, and by 2120, humanity was well on its way to re-"
The platform shuddered, suddenly pitching to the side and throwing Michelle and Thomas into a heap. Thomas' device, still in his hand, tumbled against Michelle's arm. They managed to get onto their hands and knees and make their way to the edge, and they both decided to take the 15-foot jump rather than stay on top of the crumbling structure.
A few moments later, the stone structure had settled into a heap, and Thomas and Michelle brushed themselves off. They were covered in dust, but they were otherwise okay.
"You alright?", Greg asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Michelle replied. "What do you suppose-"
She cut herself off, aiming Betsy at the fog.
Nothing moved. A second later, though, a form began to take shape in the mist, walking towards them.
"Hold it!", she said, cocking the rifle, "Take two steps to you left and put your hands up."
The form stopped. "Calm down, I'm not here for a fight."
"Do it anyway, or I'll drop you where you stand."
See, Eric? It went fine.
I wouldn't exactly call that fine. It's just not right- if we're going to win, we should at least do it fairly.
Winning is the most fair thing to do, Bern thought. Four minds, remember?
But tagging her, then leaving it in a pile of rubble? That's just low. I don't know if I even want to live if that's what we have to do to do it.