RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)
06-14-2013, 03:56 AM
Kyle shuffled through the hallway as though his sweatpants were made of baggy, formless lead. As he passed the notice board he noticed about twice as many brightly-colored warnings pinned to it, usually meaning that the company was dipping into the red for the third time that week. And that usually meant a palate of sticky notes would be attached to his microphone and that some ridiculous marketing ploy would present itself for him to slog through the rest of the day. Great, Kyle thought to himself. He looked down at the coffee mug in his hands and wondered why he chose today to run out of whiskey to sweeten it with.
As he entered his assigned sound studio, he immediately noticed the neon-colored mess on his desk that he'd been fearing. He uttered a deliberately audible groan as though anyone were around to hear. "Why," he asked himself "does management pick the most irritatingly bright shades of orange and pink and still assume I won't see them unless they're sticking up straight into my face?" He began the process of de-cluttering his mic and barely reading through the notes.
"Cross-over today..."
"Fight to the death.."
"You're prolly getting fired..."
The messages were about what Kyle expected to be waiting for him. It certainly wasn't the same thing he did everyday, but collaborations and cross-overs seemed to be the first last-resorts that down on their luck cartoon companies went for. He thumbed through the five lime colored post-its describing the guests and was relieved to see the roster was free of the frilly vampires and anime characters that usually appeared. He let out a sigh that went from relief to apathy before he could finish the breath as he powered up the equipment and mentally prepared himself for the tribulations ahead.
Krugrug shook bits of shell out of his sparse armor as he got up onto his feet. He immediately felt the rush of wind hitting him hard enough to smack the stink off of him and onto a flock of undeserving seagulls. As he processed the sensation he finally opened his eyes long enough to see where he was. In the middle of the sky, to be precise. He stood at the top of a giant pink pillar, itself standing at the edge of a ring of jagged rock spanning the size of a coliseum. The tower rose organically from the sea, stretching up into the fantastic clear blue expanse of air and capping itself off with a sphere of expertly carved coral, seeming like a perfectly smooth marble waiting to eclipse the sun itself. The orc stared transfixed at the big ball of beauty above him.
"Now who would be irresponsible enough to give a barbarian a metric ton of rolling death?" Kyle asked himself.
The thin but numerous supports were bashed to pieces as Krugrug flailed his way through them, barely even slowed as he chopped them down. While causing a massive weight to come crashing down while still standing under it is often a schtick reserved for slapstick, the orc was lucky enough to have the ball decide to go in the direction he'd already cut instead of the one he was still working on. The ball eagerly crawled towards the edge of the tower and with the little bit of momentum it had, it made it into the open air and began its decent towards sea level.
Krugrug was pleased.
As he entered his assigned sound studio, he immediately noticed the neon-colored mess on his desk that he'd been fearing. He uttered a deliberately audible groan as though anyone were around to hear. "Why," he asked himself "does management pick the most irritatingly bright shades of orange and pink and still assume I won't see them unless they're sticking up straight into my face?" He began the process of de-cluttering his mic and barely reading through the notes.
"Cross-over today..."
"Fight to the death.."
"You're prolly getting fired..."
The messages were about what Kyle expected to be waiting for him. It certainly wasn't the same thing he did everyday, but collaborations and cross-overs seemed to be the first last-resorts that down on their luck cartoon companies went for. He thumbed through the five lime colored post-its describing the guests and was relieved to see the roster was free of the frilly vampires and anime characters that usually appeared. He let out a sigh that went from relief to apathy before he could finish the breath as he powered up the equipment and mentally prepared himself for the tribulations ahead.
Krugrug shook bits of shell out of his sparse armor as he got up onto his feet. He immediately felt the rush of wind hitting him hard enough to smack the stink off of him and onto a flock of undeserving seagulls. As he processed the sensation he finally opened his eyes long enough to see where he was. In the middle of the sky, to be precise. He stood at the top of a giant pink pillar, itself standing at the edge of a ring of jagged rock spanning the size of a coliseum. The tower rose organically from the sea, stretching up into the fantastic clear blue expanse of air and capping itself off with a sphere of expertly carved coral, seeming like a perfectly smooth marble waiting to eclipse the sun itself. The orc stared transfixed at the big ball of beauty above him.
"Now who would be irresponsible enough to give a barbarian a metric ton of rolling death?" Kyle asked himself.
The thin but numerous supports were bashed to pieces as Krugrug flailed his way through them, barely even slowed as he chopped them down. While causing a massive weight to come crashing down while still standing under it is often a schtick reserved for slapstick, the orc was lucky enough to have the ball decide to go in the direction he'd already cut instead of the one he was still working on. The ball eagerly crawled towards the edge of the tower and with the little bit of momentum it had, it made it into the open air and began its decent towards sea level.
Krugrug was pleased.