The Great Belligerency [Round 4: Static]

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Gods.

Cole hated gods. Anansi had soured him on the whole concept, which he hadn't been fond of to begin with.

Humans were obviously the masters of their own destiny. But to the gods, they were but playthings! Completely dismissive of all that humanity had achieved. It was sickening.

And here he found himself, at the whim of one god, in the company of two others. The Spirit of Fairy Tales seemed unpleasantly similar in nature to Anansi, as well. Likewise, Dove's goal of eliminating humanity made him another clear enemy.

The remaining three combatants might be amenable to an alliance. He would have to consider it - though they almost certainly couldn't be trusted in the long term, Cole knew he would need every possible advantage in order to fight a god.

His overall plan settled, Cole walked into the kitchen. He reasoned that if there were no fellow combatants to recruit or confront there, at least he might be able to capture more insects.

Originally posted on MSPA by Pick Yer Poison.

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Phil slowly lowered his rifle from the position it had been in when he fired his last shot in his own world. He was not very distressed about being dragged here to participate in this gladiatorial competition; in fact, the Executor had had perfect timing in doing so, since Phil hadn't yet considered what he'd do once he was done with his revenge. He flicked a switch on the rifle, and the muzzle retracted slightly, as did the scope. He glanced around at the other competitors; apart from himself, only two of them actually looked battle-ready. He could appreciate that much. The others looked like easy pickings, but based on the descriptions given by the Executor, they were not to be taken so lightly. In fact, Amy looked rather cute...

Phil shook his head. No, it was not a good idea to start thinking along those lines. It would only lead to trouble when he had to kill her, assuming the Executor was actually intending to have them all kill each other off one by one. For that matter, he hadn't mentioned what would happen to the winner. Perhaps he would simply kill him or her and start the whole scenario again. They might not be the first group to have this happen to them, but if the Executor tried to take him out when he had won, Phil would make sure he was the last one standing.

He was always the last one standing.

Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.

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A young woman stood in a workshop, alone. One corner was dominated by a blank canvas, almost wall-sized. The woman walked over to examine it.

"La, such wondrous possibilities!!"

Glancing around the room, a smile passed across her face. "Ooo, creativity! I think I shall stay here!"

The woman positively bounced off to explore the workshop.

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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In the moments after his arrival in The Rainy Place, deposited onto a front door step in front of a normal looking house, Dove's main concern was how he suddenly felt very alone. Though he had been alone for the last few years, the only time he spent with other human vermin was while he was eradicating them, he had never felt so lonely, so empty. It was the planet; he had been snatched from his own planet and brought here; to this rainy world. A dark and dreary world, full of pouring rain, and bitter emptiness that enveloped him. He had never felt so out of place. His heart raced as he considered the implications of his severed connection with his planet. Would his abilities still work? Dove had already decided he had to win this battle, if only for the slim possibility that he might be able to return home, to his precious planet, and without his abilities he didn't have a hope in Hell.

He stopped, and turned to take in the street on which he was stood. There was pavement, and tarmac, cars and brick buildings, but little in the way of plant-life. Crouching down he examined the pavement, sweeping his sodden wet hair out of his eyes. It was already a little cracked and broken with weeds emerging from between the paving stones. With little more than a thought the weeds grew rapidly, sprouting from the cracks until there was no more room to do so. The paving slab shattered under the pressure, weeds pouring through the new cracks, growing large and numerous. At a gesture they moved, scooping up the shattered paving stone peice by peice and shifting it out of the way, allowing more and more weeds to shoot up unimpeded from the soil underneath.

His powers tested and confirmed he turned his mind to more important matters. To the contest he found himself trapped within, to the vermin who he would have to eliminate in order to return home. It was somewhat ironic, from Dove's perspective, that almost all of his opponents were human, or humanoid; a species which he instinctively thought of as vermin, apart from one opponent who appeared to be made of insects; literal vermin. He smiled a little, and as his weeds behind him overturned more paving slabs to make way for more weeds, he thought perhaps he could do this planet a favour while he was here.

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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Ur had been seated on the bed (or, rather, seated just above it, hovering idly several inches above the rumpled quilt) before Balance arrived. Her hands were folded serenely in her lap, but the left one slowly slipped out, fingertips barely touching the fabric of the blanket; as her nails brushed it, a grey spot slowly began spreading across the bed. As the other god entered, the grey patch had spread to cover half the bed, and was growing upwards as well; rank stalks of fungal growth reached towards the ceiling, spindly cellulose fingers tipped with black globules of spores. Balance, however, payed no mind to, and may not even have noticed, the rapidly-spreading mold, focusing instead on the placid goddess sitting above the middle of it.

The slightly-lolling head straightened up and turned directly towards Balance, empty eyes fixed on his. Cracked lips silently mouthed "mother" and Ur stood slowly up, feet hanging limply above the floor. It was impossible to divine what passed for thought in the mind of what remained of the goddess, but she was slowly hovering towards the other god, repeatedly mouthing mother; each iteration came faster until her lips were twitching meaninglessly. Even as her fingers slid off the bed, the mold continued to creep across its substrate. Balance took a confused step backwards as Ur approached, unsure of how to react.

Finally, her lips stilled as she drew level with the grey man. Featureless eyes stared unblinkingly as she slowly raised a hand; Balance reached up to take it, but as his fingers reached forth it hissed through the air and slammed into his face. He reeled and collapsed, robes snapping through the air as he fell backwards. He looked up, fingers on his cheek; Ur was hovering above him, formerly-impassive face a rictus of rage.

Originally posted on MSPA by Pick Yer Poison.

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As Phil was considering his options, a vaguely humanoid swarm of insects walked into the kitchen. It halted when it saw Phil; Phil did the same when he saw it. The Executor had introduced it as…Cole Aran. Right. The bug man.

Phil walked over to the window and peered out, struggling to see through the torrential downpour. “Nice weather we’re having. Suits something called The Rainy Place, I suppose.”

Cole harrumphed and moved to stand next to Phil. The insects on his head shuffled around to form a makeshift mouth, slightly thinner than an average human’s. “That it does. Tell me, what is your stance on…gods?” Cole literally spat out the last word, propelling a large beetle onto the window. It fell onto the countertop, and Cole bent over to retrieve it before it could escape.

Phil stepped back surreptitiously while his attention was focused on the beetle. “I don’t have one yet. Until now, I didn’t even know they existed. I’ll have to form my opinion based on their actions towards me.”

Cole turned towards him. “You needn’t bother. They don’t care at all about us. We’re just playthings to them. You can either take my word for it or find out on your own; either way is fine by me.” Cole turned around and started out for the living room. As he passed through the doorway, he called back to Phil. “Don’t forget that we are humans, and they want us dead for it.”

Phil watched him leave silently, unsure what to do next. He decided to leave the kitchen through the other exit, in case Cole had a change of heart and decided to return. He walked across the hallway outside the kitchen towards a closed door. Opening it revealed a flight of stairs leading down into a workshop of some sort. Phil walked down them, shutting the door behind him.

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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What a simpleminded fool, Cole thought, heading towards the living room. He'll probably be of little use except as a pawn. Nonetheless, any piece is better than none, and he will see the nature of these gods for himself soon enough.

Across the room, Cole spotted a balding, bearded man, hand on his sword.

"Vandrel Reinhardt, I believe?" Cole inquired. "I see you're expecting a fight. Not unreasonable, I suppose."

Vandrel drew his sword. If he was put off by the fact that a mass of flesh covered in insects had just spoken, he did not show it.

"That is Lord Reinhardt to you, monstrosity."

Cole leapt to the ceiling as Reinhardt charged him and swung. He then clung there, looking down at his opponent.

"I was rather hoping we could have a little chat instead, Lord Reinhardt. What is your opinion on gods?"

Originally posted on MSPA by Captain Lhurgoyf.

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"Gods," Reinhardt pondered. He had never thought too much in the way of gods. Nevertheless, the creature, as much of a hideous mockery of humanity it was, was at least trying to communicate.

"I am not a religious man. Nonetheless, I do believe in the divine right our kind - humanity - has to be the true rulers of the world. All other so-called 'thinking races' are mere animals - I scoff to even consider them people. Elves! Dwarves! Orcs, Magicians, and Halflings! They dare inhabit our world, the world of humanity! It is their destiny to be wiped from the face of the world, and as ruler, I am enforcing that policy! I will not truly rest in the knowledge that I have done well as a ruler until every last member of the races of inhuman monstrosities has been rightfully purged! No matter the extent of my opinion on gods, I stand by this and aim to enforce our divine right! We are the master race!"

Reinhardt now looked up at the thing hanging from the ceiling. It was clear to him that this twisted abomination was nowhere near Reinhardt's ideal model of life. He had started to consider finishing it off.

"Now, swine, tell me your side of the story, and try to convince me as to why I should not tear your monstrous form limb from miserable limb."

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Cole was shocked at the man's callousness. It had not occurred to him that there could be non-human races with intelligence, but now this tyrant had told him that not only did they exist, he had slaughtered many of them for not being human.

Cole was disgusted at the thought of such disregard for intelligence. But he also knew this man was one of his few potential allies, and besides which, he had an honest answer that might persuade Reinhardt. Holding back his contempt, Cole spoke.

"I used to be human. A god cursed me, changing me into the abomination you see before you. You might wonder what I did that this god considered so grievous as to inflict me with such a monstrous form." He paused, observing Reinhardt's reaction to his claims; the man seemed skeptical, but also curious. Cole continued.

"My sin was thus: I dared to claim the superiority of humans over insects."

Originally posted on MSPA by Captain Lhurgoyf.

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Reinhardt was taken aback by the man's words. Having heard the creature's side of the story - that it was once human, that the creature had indeed shared Reinhardt's beliefs of human superiority - the tyrant began to reconsider his actions toward his assailent. Perhaps this being was not so much of a blight on the world than he seemed.

"The...the superiority of humans over insects? And that was a sin in the eyes of this god!? Truly, this must be a most evil demon to punish you for such a rightful belief!" Reinhardt said, lowering his sword. "Surely if you held the belief of humanity's sovereign superiority, you cannot be such a twisted monster. Had I known your beliefs before, I may not have seen you as such a threat..."

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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If Cole still possessed the features to smirk, he would have had to hold himself back. For the moment, it had gone well. He spun a thick strand of webbing, and lowered himself to the floor with it.

"You'll pardon me if I forgo the customary handshake while we discuss business," he said. Reinhardt nodded. He understood the man now (or so he thought), but had no desire to touch that disgusting mound of flesh, or the insects covering its surface. Cole continued.

"Let me be clear on one point. My primary targets in this contest are the two gods."

"Understandable. I would caution you not to forget the man named Dove as you plan your assault on them, however. We were told he has made humanity his enemy."

"Indeed, I am well aware of that. I am also somewhat concerned about the Spirit; she reminds me of Anansi the Spider, the god who cursed me. That leaves four contestants for a potential alliance - the two of us, Phil Girnham, and Amy. Girnham seemed generally uninterested in taking on gods when I saw him a moment ago, but he was not hostile to me. He may be more persuadable if there are two of us."

"And the girl?"

"I have not encountered her yet, and our host was frustratingly vague about her. I cannot predict what she will do. Nonetheless, given our lack of other options, I feel pursuing an alliance is necessary regardless."

Reinhardt stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Unite the humans, hmm? A sensible approach. You've thought this through well."

"If we are in agreement, then, I suggest we follow Phil Girnham." Cole walked towards the kitchen. "He headed this way not long ago. It should not be difficult to catch up."

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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A swollen shoot of a newly grown weed snaked to the front door of the house, clumsily grasping the handle and pushing it open. Anyone else might have felt pleased to be out of the rain, but as Dove entered the house he frowned. Lately he had found human structures to be distasteful, another way of defying nature.

An animal's proper place was out in the wild. Once humans had been no exception, then they began to think themselves apart from other animals, better than the world that birthed them. They chopped down trees to build shelters for themselves, and for wood to burn. That was the unremarkable start of the vermin's vendetta against the planet itself. Soon they were digging deep into the earth, drilling for oil, mining for gold, dumping their waste into the oceans, slowly poisoning the planet until it could take it no longer. Dove wasn't quite sure how he knew all this. It wasn't something he had been told, it was knowledge that had come as he had ruefully set about his task. With every one of the vermin he had killed he had felt more attuned to the planet, he could see it's point of view. One day he had woken up with eyes of a shining green, his old self more or less forgotten.

Flanked by a thicket of tendrils, he stepped into the house. He stood there for a moment, dripping rain onto the doormat. His clothes clung to his lanky frame, and his mop of hair smattered across his face. As Dove strolled down the disappointingly empty hallway his tendrils followed him. They idly probed along the walls, prying open cupboards, snatching up any loose items, flicking at the light switch. For a couple of seconds the hallway flickered between darkness and light, then on command the vines pounded at the wall near the light switch, cracking through the weak plaster and haphazardly pulling wires out of the wall. The house was suddenly plunged into darkness.

Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.

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The young woman had found a radio in the workshop, and had, for the past few minutes, been dancing to soft jazz.

Then the power went out.

The workshop was plunged into darkness and silence.

Shortly thereafter, Phil entered the room, bright headlamp illuminating the cluttered space; unfinished odds and ends casting undefined shadows throughout the area.

Then he heard giggling; musical, like soft bells on the wind.

He didn't bother saying "Hello?" or anything so asinine as that. If they wanted to reveal themselves, they would. And if not, he'd find them anywa-

His headlamp was suddenly shining on a beautiful young woman, smiling innocently at the helmeted man.

"I... uh..."

Smile.

"Uh... hello?" he tried.

The girl moved closer, and rested a finger daintily on his chestpiece. "La, what a marvelous piece of work! I do love a man in armor." She beamed, looking up at Phil through her eyelashes. Standing on her tip-toes, she brought her mouth to the side of his helmet, and whispered huskily, "but I like to see them out of it even better."

Still grinning, she lowered herself back down in front of him, biting her lower lip just a little, and gestured for him to follow as she backed away slowly into the darkness.

Originally posted on MSPA by Pick Yer Poison.

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Phil barely knew what to say. He’d never really been in close contact with any attractive women before; his only female mission officers were batty old hags. He’d already hunted them down and taken care of them, so they wouldn’t leak anything he didn’t want them to. Amy confused him, in ways he hadn’t been confused in a long time…

The sound of a door creaking open broke into Phil’s thoughts. He turned his headlamp towards the noise; a door lay ajar, leading down more stairs. Phil approached it cautiously, leveling his gun, just in case something—

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP SPLOOSH!

“Amy!” Phil shouted, and charged through the open doorway, immediately tripping upon the wet stair near the top, falling down every step and into the puddle of water at the bottom. "Argh!"

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP SPLOOSH!

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As Cole and Reinhardt were heading towards the basement, the lights flickered, then went out completely. Both halted for a moment, uncertain what to do. Reinhardt was just about to suggest they wait until the lights returned, when Cole’s rear end lit up like a lightbulb.

Reinhardt opened his mouth with an amused expression on his face, but shut it when Cole growled at him. “Not a word! Or you can play king in the dark again.” Just then, Amy and Phil’s cries echoed up to the kitchen. Cole and Reinhardt paused and looked at each other, silently agreeing that whatever had just happened, it was the work of those despicable gods. They began striding rapidly for the door to the basement, Reinhardt with his sword at the ready, and Cole with his arse.

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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For an originally belevolent goddess of creation, and on top of that appearing to be old and weary, Ur packed quite a punch, enough to send Balance flying a bit back. The god got himself together and tried again. "But, mother, didn't you-" "The word 'mother' brought Ur in a tantrum again, this time letting out a hissing warning before attacking, then a scream of such agony to drive anyone insane. Balance felt he wasn't making progress, and decided to leave. Both gods weeping in themselves over days past, Balance thought to himself. No mistaking it. That is the woman who created me to watch over the world. I have to speak to her once, muster up the courage to ask her of her views and plans. Just once. He traveled downstairs to find himself in a hallway again. He headed to nowhere in particular, as the lights flickered and packed in, as he suddenly heard a loud splashing. He decided to check it out, and found a crusade led by the bug-infested sinner leading towards the basement. Cole looked at the god untastefully and spit venom in his general direction. "That's him," he muttered. "That's one of those gods."
Balance peered through the door, and saw only a puddle of water that rained through the cracks to form a small puddle. Nothing capable of a big splash at least. He passed on to the main halll, where he saw weeds overgrowing through the entire house. "This won't do at all. Let's get this back to how it was." With that signal, the windows all slammed wide open, allowing the heavy rain to quicky spread across the house. The plants started growing heavily across ceiling and walls, while their roots feverishly got dragged into the water.

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

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It was a bad thing to lose your temper. A very very bad thing. Taking your anger out on something, or worse, someone, was a sin and the perpetrator would suffer any number of various forms of dismemberment. Good little children didn't fight or raise their voices against their parents and Soft was a good girl so she didn't do anything besides mutter something dark under her breath. She stared at the haughty god from underneath her black bangs until he was out of sight.

The book did not give her much during their short encounter, but it did whisper something about a grave wrong he had committed at one point in his life after a bunch of filler about how long he lived and the creation of a world and blah blah blah, mythological stuff she had heard before. She was tempted to go and punish him now for whatever he did but that would be acting out of temper and Soft was a good girl. She noted this unknown wrong as well as a superiority issue that should be fixed and moved on to cool down. Scale-Boy would get his due soon, oh yes...

Soft swung her axe stiffly, often getting close to trashing the furniture that were so neatly placed about. She walked about the house in this manner, encountering nobody and avoiding any voices she heard. Her swings eventually got more leisurely as she decided to disregard the small slight recently made against her. She had even started humming a cheerful tune, watching the rain pitter-patter against the windows when the lights went out.

The Spirit of Fairy Tales didn't quite understand what was going on at first but then reasoned it out. People had to conserve oil because oil could get expensive. Lamps were only lit when it got too dark to see and there was still work to be done. Lamps didn't need to be lit when the sun was up or when it was bedtime. The sun was obviously not out, if not down, then at least obscured by the thick clouds outside. It was too dark to read, even. Which meant it was bedtime. Which meant it was the time all little boys and girls had to be in bed.

Soft had not listened to much of what the Dark-Man had said. He had only mentioned her once and it all didn't seem to interfere with her job. The only thing that caught her attention was that he said that all those other people were rather bad. She had known bad children to sneak around past bedtime, up to no good. She wouldn't put it past them to be sneaking around now. She would just have to go around and make sure they wouldn't sneak around ever again.

With a hum and a swing, Soft rested her large axe softly on her shoulder before carefully making her way through the dark house. She would have to be quiet if she wanted to catch those bad children disobeying curfew.

Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.

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The young woman sat up, rubbing her head. "Oooooooh I would have thought I had better balance."

Phil turned around, having already recovered from the fall, to look at the disoriented girl.

"Amy? You all right?"

The girl looked up and made a face. "Oh poo, that man got my name wrong, yes he did! La, but I do not think I am the person he wanted! He seems to have made many mistakes..." the girl looked up at Phil, "like you!" She stood up, brushing herself off, and stretched, walking closer to Phil as she did so. "That horrible man called us 'morally dissonant', but you do not seem like a bad man. I think you're rather sweet, the way you came rushing after me." She smiled, now quite close, and rested a hand on his shoulder, leaning her hips towards his. "La, but I'm glad I have someone like you here! You'll protect me from these awful people, won't you?" She circled around him, keeping one hand on his armer, stroking it as she moved. "My name is Julia," she whispered. She pronounced the name softly, drawing out the "j" into an almost soft "z" noise, rather than the harder "dg" sound it would usually make.

Phil just stood there, not quite certain what to do. So, "Julia" took the initiative, and pranced back around to his front. Grabbing one hand, she led him forwards, saying, "Come! Let us explore!"

Originally posted on MSPA by Pick Yer Poison.

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Phil blinked confusedly and wrenched his arm out of Julia's grip. "What? Julia? But weren't you Amy before?"

Julia winced slightly as Phil butchered her name's pronounciation. "Certainly not!" she exclaimed, pouting. "I should think I would know my own name, unlike that horrid man." She ran a finger across his chest plate. "Surely you believe me? You seem like such a good man...he must have made a mistake in selecting you too." But Phil reached up a gloved hand and gently pushed her finger away.

"There's something very wrong with this. Something doesn't make any sense." Phil backed away slightly and gripped his gun in both his hands, a subtle movement communicating that he was ready to defend himself if attacked. "The Executor had Cole and I pegged; why should you be any different? I doubt that a man that can manipulate reality to his own ends is prone to making mistakes as simple as a wrong name."

Julia looked up at him pleadingly. "La, that's what makes it so terrible! I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not a fighter, I'm just a dancer!" She stepped forward hesitantly. "Please, you have to believe me. Those other people, they're...they're monsters! They'll kill me!"

Phil shifted uneasily, torn between wanting to help Julia and thinking there was something fishy with her story. He settled on the former, at least for now. If she does turn out to be pulling a fast one, well, I don't think she can fool my bullets. Phil patted her on the shoulder. "Alright, I'll go along with what you say. You definitely don't look capable of defending yourself."

Julia fluttered her eyelashes at Phil, and he was once again glad his helmet kept her from seeing him blush. "Oh, thank you so much! I know everything will just fine now that you're watching out for me." She grabbed Phil's arm and hung on tight, as if she was in danger of flying away.

Phil coughed nervously. “Well! We’d better get moving. Who knows what’s…wait…where the hell ARE we?” He glanced around at their surroundings, taking a few minutes to actually pay attention to the bizarre, warped scenery. A long, winding gravel path presented itself to his eyes, bordered on the sides by small pebbles painstakingly arranged to form two continuous lines. It reminded him of national parks, but instead of trees, there were only uncountable numbers of disturbingly pale hands on long, thin arms of varying heights. They waved slightly in the…no, there was no breeze here. It was a dead place, and Phil and Julia were the only life to be seen.

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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"I presume you aren't interested in fighting a god just yet," Reinhardt commented as Cole searched around the basement. The firefly's light was of limited use to him, being on the opposite side from his eyes; he had to compensate by mimicking the eyes of a moth.

The room was a mess, but there was no sign of a struggle. Nothing was actually broken.

"It does not appear that they were attacked by another competitor," Cole said, his attention turning to the puddle of water on the floor. "Phil Girnham is armed, and all our opponents save the girl have clear capacity for collateral damage. I see no sign of that."

"Then where did they go?" Reinhardt asked, eyeing the stairs cautiously.

Cole said nothing. The puddle seemed unusual, somehow. He wasn't certain of why.

There was a loud noise at the top of the stairs. The sound distrupted Cole's concentration.

Reinhardt looked at his ally. "Perhaps we should investigate that instead, hmm? Whatever happened to Girnham and the girl, they clearly aren't here any more. And unless you can find another exit, I'd rather know if there's a threat up there than wait in here for it to come after us."

"One moment." Cole carefully stretched an arm over the puddle. Selecting a relatively useless dung beetle, he plucked it from his arm, and then dropped it in the water.

The water formed a crude and tiny hand, grabbing the beetle and pulling it in. It vanished.

"I think we may have discovered what happened to Girnham and 'Amy'," Cole commented. "Perhaps we can use this to our advantage? It would be inadvisable to enter the water ourselves, as we cannot be certain we would survive. But, we need not hold that same concern about our opponents..."

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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Show Content

SpoilerSorry it's been so long since my last post; things have been pretty hectic lately with bridal showers and moves and jobs and life. This battle is next on my to post list, though, so depending on a number of factors I should have a post up either later tonight or in a day or two. It's partially written as it is, and I work on it whenever I've had a spare moment and the headspace for it. In the meantime, though, can I get Wojjan to make a small edit? Ur isn't really the talking sort, at least not yet.

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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Show Content

SpoilerWhoops! I would have run it by you if there was a you to run things by as of late. My mistake for acting too soon!

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

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Sneak, sneak, sneak.

It would have been boring if it weren't for the fact that Soft could hear the children scurry about like little rats, whispering in a pitiful attempt not to be heard so that their parents wouldn't catch them out of bed. What did children do at night anyways? Nothing good, she was sure.

As she was trying to track down some voices that seemed to be coming from downstairs, Soft stumbled over something. And before she could wonder if the children did not pick up after themselves as well, the something she stumbled over grabbed her cloak and tugged at it roughly. She pulled back and the cloth ripped, which she didn't mind too much as it was one rip among many, and stepped back to observe the thing that was now thrashing about in the hall.

It looked to be a vine. An enchanted vine? Was this a witch's house? But...it didn't really look like one. Soft stepped back again as the thick vine attempted to grab at her once more. Did that mean a witch had come in to steal away one of the kiddies? She supposed this was happening because of someone's misdeed. A witch was coming to spirit someone away, or maybe a witch was coming just for one protagonist to outwit? Either way, she wished it would stop trying to attack her. It was getting annoying.

Dove turned the corner right when Soft, out of severe aggravation, chopped one of his tendrils. Soft watched as he grunted...in pain? In hatred?

Soft watched Gardener-Witch warily and he seemed to return the glare. According to the book, he wasn't a witch...at least in the beginning. He probably hadn't been a witch when he was born, so that was understandable. It mentioned a fake name, though, which was surely the sign of a horrendous evil beast.

After a tense silence, Soft gestured stiffly towards the basement door. "The wicked little children you are looking for are down there, witch. Continue attacking me and I won't be as helpful."

Originally posted on MSPA by Captain Lhurgoyf.

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Reinhardt gazed down at the water grimly and with disdain. Seeing the hand come from the water reminded the tyrant all too well of some sort of magic enchantment. Reinhardt hated magicians, seeing them as the worst of all the pathetic beings to be destroyed. So many of them were humans - humans, the superior species - who dared to deviate from their perfect heritage. Reinhardt was sure to give magicians the most painful of his tortures at the death-camps where he kept his subhuman prisoners.

"This seems to be some sort of magic. If we find out who's behind it, he must be executed at once," said Reinhardt, turning his head slightly.

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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welp, notepad done crashed on me

goodbye work on GBe post

I'ma slap something together just to get something up I really don't feel like recreating that

Reserved

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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Ur watched the other god leave, breast heaving and teeth bared; it would be impossible to divine what or if she was thinking, but it was clear that fury and violence were the orders of the day. As BAlance turned a corner, she let loose with an animal ululation, one hand scything towards the wall; the plaster crumbled beneath her nails, leaving several deep gashes. Around the edge of those gashes, small mushrooms began springing up, each making an oddly-cheerful "fwup" noise as their radically-accelerated growth made their caps pop open. The mold in the room behind the decrepit goddess was growing ever faster; in addition to creeping across every available and growing ever upwards, it appeared that the fetid mass of fungus was stirring of its own accord. It could well have been an illusion created by its unnatural growth, but believing that while watching its subtle shifting would have been difficult.

As Ur's screams trailed off into a gurgling choke, the sound of conversation from elsewhere in the house reached her. She began drifting slowly down the hallway, hands held out such that her fingers were pressed through the drywall; as she drew gradually closer to the other contestants, the only sounds following her were the cracking of the walls, the popping of dozens of tiny mushrooms springing up in her fingers' wake, and a rather ominous creaking from the room behind her. As she reached the turn Balance had disappeared at, the lights disappeared; the last thing an observer would have seen before the stygian gloom of the Rainy Place filled the house would have been several tendrils of slick grey mold pressing their way into the hallway.

The lack of light didn't really affect the shriveled remnant of Creation much: divinity didn't really require traditional senses in any case, and the ghosts that inhabited the forlorn goddess's being would easily have been able to approximate sight in any case. These facts made the faintly-reddish glow from her eyes seem almost silly and redundant. Ur hovered through the increasingly-soaked house, watching incuriously as weeds and vines spread across floor and walls. Bathed in the dim light from her eyes, one such tendril wrapped around a standing lamp; as it reached the globe, she impassively flicked her fingers at it. Slowly at first but with increasing speed, dusty orange patches began springing up on the vine's leaves and eventually its stem. It shuddered for a few moments, then slumped; it didn't uncoil so much as relax and slide down the lamp's shaft. Ur's expression didn't change as the vine drooped, but there was a slight air of satisfaction as she felt the infection spread to other parts of the plant and across to other plants. Leaving one hand gouging the wall and spawning fungus, she moved towards the source of the vines.

The red-tinted sight that greeted her was odd. A pair of the others that had been introduced earlier were standing there, windows open and rain pouring in, vines writing and exploring; neither was saying anything, but the smaller one was pointing towards a flight of stairs. As the infection spread through the creepers, the taller figure began to take notice. Ur simply hovered placidly, still face betraying nothing.