Re: Epic Clash Round 2 - The Wax Colosseum
05-23-2010, 04:03 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.
Spender paused. The talk of redemption seemed odd, especially coupled with Old Laws--and it wasn't hard to detect capital letters in people's thoughts.
"I'll tell you again what it means to be a soldier, before I go." He turned away, not meeting their eyes for once. "No... I'll show you, if only briefly." He took a spot next to Thomas' window on the real world and stretched his arms over his head, playing back as if a memory as though it were a movie. For the four gentlemen Thomas, peering into it wasn't dissimilar from taking on a place in their own body, but for the lack of control-- sensations swirled around them, and implicit memories--names, places--just slid into place.
Damnit.
"Spender. These barriers aren't going to hold." The woman beside him--one time lover, long time friend--had her eyes closed, her thoughts pouring through weapon after weapon she could create. Nothing she could find would affect a Shattered of that level. It only wanted to destroy, and it was enjoying their despair. "If I give you the time, can you wipe the whole area?"
"That would destroy part of the real world. We're not allowed." Spender wasn't confident anymore--or yet? "Not for a small one like this."
"Don't kid yourself." Her smile was sad, even with her eyes closed. "Every enemy could be the last--for us, for Earth, for anything, for everything. No Nightmare can be allowed to go free."
"Susan--"
"Save it." From her hands came a massive sword--one twenty times what a human could actually carry, by weight or by size. "I'll distract him. Wipe the area."
"No." He jumped in front of her. Even though she didn't want to see, he was scared. "I'm not going to be able to do it alone. I'll hold him off, and you go back for reinforcements. It's not like I have the authority to call anyone in if things get out of hand."
After a moment, she relented. "Just don't let the bastard get free."
The memory swirled forwards. Spender didn't even know how--he had been holding the twisted visage off for what seemed like hours. Of course you'll die eventually. Just let it be later. This is important. She has to get back with more men.
But the Shattered, which had never relented in its attack, suddenly threw something to the ground in front of him. The body wasn't merely dead, she had clearly been tortured. The burns, the cuts, the...
The memory jumped forward, sparing them more details. The Shattered still didn't relent in its attack. Something had broken inside Spender, however. I'm going to die. But it's not so bad. Everyone dies. Maybe... if my last act is memorable... if I just pretend to be the kind of hero I'm supposed to be... maybe if I can just get rid of one more monster...
...maybe then it will be alright. Maybe everyone else will be able to do the rest. So it's alright if I die. I'd just really like it if...
just one last mission...
There was no more fear, and the sadness was held back behind a boundary. There was no person inside Spender any longer, only the weapons he carried and the mission he had before him. His eyes were closed against the tears, but they found their way out anyway. "Sh...shattered-level Nightmare. You have been found guilty and... super-lethal force has been authorized..."
He stepped out from behind his barriers. A thousand beams of agony pierced his flesh. However, before him, a rift in space opened, spilling out his emergency cache--hundreds of coins, of who knows how many kinds, some of which probably would have gotten him court-marshaled.
Spender locked eyes with the nightmare and activated them all at once.
"Being a soldier," Spender began, his voice startling Thomas out of their stupor, "is not a glorious thing, but rather, a dirty, gritty, stupidly violent thing. I am not willing to die because I believe I am worthless, nor in order to make up for something, nor even because of someone else's damnable Law. I am willing to die because even in dying I might still be of use."
"It's just that... it takes breaking through something inside to really accept that from the bottom of your soul."
He paused. The memories had shocked them somewhat--he hoped not too much. He walked between them, setting a hand on each's shoulder in turn, waking them slightly from their stupor. "It also means not giving up and dying now just because you will die eventually--or even soon. It means fighting until the very last second, even if you think nothing can be accomplished."
"That's why I intend to fight the Overseer. If I fail and die... I won't be the first to have tried and failed. And if I succeed, maybe I've done something important."
"Now if you'll excuse me... I need some time myself."
A moment later, Spender's spell faded and he raised his head, then looked down at Thomas again. Then, he looked away.
"God dammit, Thomas." He rubbed his head.
"I'll tell you again what it means to be a soldier, before I go." He turned away, not meeting their eyes for once. "No... I'll show you, if only briefly." He took a spot next to Thomas' window on the real world and stretched his arms over his head, playing back as if a memory as though it were a movie. For the four gentlemen Thomas, peering into it wasn't dissimilar from taking on a place in their own body, but for the lack of control-- sensations swirled around them, and implicit memories--names, places--just slid into place.
Damnit.
"Spender. These barriers aren't going to hold." The woman beside him--one time lover, long time friend--had her eyes closed, her thoughts pouring through weapon after weapon she could create. Nothing she could find would affect a Shattered of that level. It only wanted to destroy, and it was enjoying their despair. "If I give you the time, can you wipe the whole area?"
"That would destroy part of the real world. We're not allowed." Spender wasn't confident anymore--or yet? "Not for a small one like this."
"Don't kid yourself." Her smile was sad, even with her eyes closed. "Every enemy could be the last--for us, for Earth, for anything, for everything. No Nightmare can be allowed to go free."
"Susan--"
"Save it." From her hands came a massive sword--one twenty times what a human could actually carry, by weight or by size. "I'll distract him. Wipe the area."
"No." He jumped in front of her. Even though she didn't want to see, he was scared. "I'm not going to be able to do it alone. I'll hold him off, and you go back for reinforcements. It's not like I have the authority to call anyone in if things get out of hand."
After a moment, she relented. "Just don't let the bastard get free."
The memory swirled forwards. Spender didn't even know how--he had been holding the twisted visage off for what seemed like hours. Of course you'll die eventually. Just let it be later. This is important. She has to get back with more men.
But the Shattered, which had never relented in its attack, suddenly threw something to the ground in front of him. The body wasn't merely dead, she had clearly been tortured. The burns, the cuts, the...
The memory jumped forward, sparing them more details. The Shattered still didn't relent in its attack. Something had broken inside Spender, however. I'm going to die. But it's not so bad. Everyone dies. Maybe... if my last act is memorable... if I just pretend to be the kind of hero I'm supposed to be... maybe if I can just get rid of one more monster...
...maybe then it will be alright. Maybe everyone else will be able to do the rest. So it's alright if I die. I'd just really like it if...
just one last mission...
There was no more fear, and the sadness was held back behind a boundary. There was no person inside Spender any longer, only the weapons he carried and the mission he had before him. His eyes were closed against the tears, but they found their way out anyway. "Sh...shattered-level Nightmare. You have been found guilty and... super-lethal force has been authorized..."
He stepped out from behind his barriers. A thousand beams of agony pierced his flesh. However, before him, a rift in space opened, spilling out his emergency cache--hundreds of coins, of who knows how many kinds, some of which probably would have gotten him court-marshaled.
Spender locked eyes with the nightmare and activated them all at once.
"Being a soldier," Spender began, his voice startling Thomas out of their stupor, "is not a glorious thing, but rather, a dirty, gritty, stupidly violent thing. I am not willing to die because I believe I am worthless, nor in order to make up for something, nor even because of someone else's damnable Law. I am willing to die because even in dying I might still be of use."
"It's just that... it takes breaking through something inside to really accept that from the bottom of your soul."
He paused. The memories had shocked them somewhat--he hoped not too much. He walked between them, setting a hand on each's shoulder in turn, waking them slightly from their stupor. "It also means not giving up and dying now just because you will die eventually--or even soon. It means fighting until the very last second, even if you think nothing can be accomplished."
"That's why I intend to fight the Overseer. If I fail and die... I won't be the first to have tried and failed. And if I succeed, maybe I've done something important."
"Now if you'll excuse me... I need some time myself."
A moment later, Spender's spell faded and he raised his head, then looked down at Thomas again. Then, he looked away.
"God dammit, Thomas." He rubbed his head.