Re: Epic Clash Round 3 - The Ascended City
06-11-2010, 08:27 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.
There is exactly one thing that Spender loves about his job. It's something that's gotten him through some unknowable number of really really bad situations.
That something is music.
Now he's faced madness incarnate, and stared down doom that was actually, factually, 100% guaranteed, but in his mind, there are two ways to come out of a situation like that: humbled, or looking like a total badass.
Spender spent a good five minutes charging, then released a spellcoin--one with incredibly fine details on its face, swirls and angles and a four pointed star in the center that almost seemed to pulse in the otherwise steady light of the sun.
The shudder than ran through the island structure when he activated the coin seemed for a moment like something was about to fail, but the island didn't fall. In front of him, however, the wall began to collapse inwards on itself, then blossomed into a ball of fire. The ball of fire continued to draw in matter around itself, but more slowly, until, satisfied, he drew another coin and stowed the whole assembly in a pocket dimension.
"Well, the Genesis Reactor's working. That's step one." He gestured, funneling nearby air and dust into the reactor's hidden space via small ducts, then nodded as he confirmed the matter annihilation reaction was working, and producing more than enough power.
"Step two... full scanners." He paused, searching his known spells, then flipped out two spells, both of which created analysis-space-like ripples, but on a massive scale that engulfed the entire region, travelling through every building in the way. Although he--like anyone else--couldn't detect anything from being in it, he could tell they were working; they would record data if he managed to tear a big enough hole in this world.
"Step three... start putting together the arsenal." He formed one coin, then cast it; a minor rift in space opened, one in exactly the right position to catch and queue coins that his ATM spit out. Then, he put his coin machine into overdrive, and simply let it pour various destruction and utility coins into that space, where he could retrieve them as necessary.
"Step four, find the right location." He tossed a flight spell into open air and activated it, then hurled himself through the metalwork hallways and out into open air. He did take a moment to appreciate the view, but his mind was distant, and any acknowledgement of the splendor disappeared within seconds.
He found himself over a wide building, with large, bronze-framed windows, and two large angelic busts facing each other. He had a certain disrespect for angels anyway. If they actually did their jobs, not only would he not have a job, but innumerable tragedies would never have occurred. So, screw them and the 'paradise' the watch over.
"Step five. Inspiration."
It was said by an enemy of Spender's once that fighting him was like fighting an orchestra; so many spellcoins, like so many instruments, wove a tapestry of rhythm, movement, light, and sound, and though he couldn't hear whatever music Spender heard, he felt he knew it, perhaps more truly than the composer.
Spender needed no earpiece, just one solitary coin, and the music was a part of him.
From the first note, ground and soil, bronze and glass below him turned to shining dust and swirled into the air, long lazy spirals that found their way into those annihilation vents with impeccable timing.
As the music built, pieces of structure, and indeed whole entire robots, lifted into the air, some of them disintegrating into thin air, some crumpling or exploding or dropping again, although their every sound seemed woven to an unhearable beat.
At last, a crescendo reaching its peak, he raised his arm and bellowed, "Raw, raw, fight the powah!"
The power source of the island detonated into a fireball, splitting the entire structure into pieces, and leaving a rolling echo that nobody could miss. The broken mass tumbled down to the ground, and Spender turned, his eyes closed, his will totally married to the beat.
Coins spent. Energy lanced out in spears, blasting various places on ground and in the air, at precise intervals and in precise directions--not determined by their targets, but just by where the music seemed to direct him. And every flash, and every echoing pop or boom or crack fit exactly where he meant it to, in his own head.
He was awash in a burning hell of music, dust, smoke, and wanton destruction.
And he smiled, a deep, heartfelt smile that made him look momentarily years younger.
Do the impossible, see the invisible
Raw, raw, fight the power
Touch the untouchable, break the unbreakable
Raw, raw fight the power!
Spoiler
That something is music.
Now he's faced madness incarnate, and stared down doom that was actually, factually, 100% guaranteed, but in his mind, there are two ways to come out of a situation like that: humbled, or looking like a total badass.
Spender spent a good five minutes charging, then released a spellcoin--one with incredibly fine details on its face, swirls and angles and a four pointed star in the center that almost seemed to pulse in the otherwise steady light of the sun.
The shudder than ran through the island structure when he activated the coin seemed for a moment like something was about to fail, but the island didn't fall. In front of him, however, the wall began to collapse inwards on itself, then blossomed into a ball of fire. The ball of fire continued to draw in matter around itself, but more slowly, until, satisfied, he drew another coin and stowed the whole assembly in a pocket dimension.
"Well, the Genesis Reactor's working. That's step one." He gestured, funneling nearby air and dust into the reactor's hidden space via small ducts, then nodded as he confirmed the matter annihilation reaction was working, and producing more than enough power.
"Step two... full scanners." He paused, searching his known spells, then flipped out two spells, both of which created analysis-space-like ripples, but on a massive scale that engulfed the entire region, travelling through every building in the way. Although he--like anyone else--couldn't detect anything from being in it, he could tell they were working; they would record data if he managed to tear a big enough hole in this world.
"Step three... start putting together the arsenal." He formed one coin, then cast it; a minor rift in space opened, one in exactly the right position to catch and queue coins that his ATM spit out. Then, he put his coin machine into overdrive, and simply let it pour various destruction and utility coins into that space, where he could retrieve them as necessary.
"Step four, find the right location." He tossed a flight spell into open air and activated it, then hurled himself through the metalwork hallways and out into open air. He did take a moment to appreciate the view, but his mind was distant, and any acknowledgement of the splendor disappeared within seconds.
He found himself over a wide building, with large, bronze-framed windows, and two large angelic busts facing each other. He had a certain disrespect for angels anyway. If they actually did their jobs, not only would he not have a job, but innumerable tragedies would never have occurred. So, screw them and the 'paradise' the watch over.
"Step five. Inspiration."
It was said by an enemy of Spender's once that fighting him was like fighting an orchestra; so many spellcoins, like so many instruments, wove a tapestry of rhythm, movement, light, and sound, and though he couldn't hear whatever music Spender heard, he felt he knew it, perhaps more truly than the composer.
Spender needed no earpiece, just one solitary coin, and the music was a part of him.
From the first note, ground and soil, bronze and glass below him turned to shining dust and swirled into the air, long lazy spirals that found their way into those annihilation vents with impeccable timing.
As the music built, pieces of structure, and indeed whole entire robots, lifted into the air, some of them disintegrating into thin air, some crumpling or exploding or dropping again, although their every sound seemed woven to an unhearable beat.
At last, a crescendo reaching its peak, he raised his arm and bellowed, "Raw, raw, fight the powah!"
The power source of the island detonated into a fireball, splitting the entire structure into pieces, and leaving a rolling echo that nobody could miss. The broken mass tumbled down to the ground, and Spender turned, his eyes closed, his will totally married to the beat.
Coins spent. Energy lanced out in spears, blasting various places on ground and in the air, at precise intervals and in precise directions--not determined by their targets, but just by where the music seemed to direct him. And every flash, and every echoing pop or boom or crack fit exactly where he meant it to, in his own head.
He was awash in a burning hell of music, dust, smoke, and wanton destruction.
And he smiled, a deep, heartfelt smile that made him look momentarily years younger.
Do the impossible, see the invisible
Raw, raw, fight the power
Touch the untouchable, break the unbreakable
Raw, raw fight the power!
Spoiler