NyNES: Might of the Pen

Well I sent my story in already.... I believe I may have won by default.

*Jumps to knees and thanks Mars.*


Incentive to get my opponent to post something.

Are we posting the stories or sending them via Pm?

Please, post your stories.

@Germanicus: Here I posted something. Happy?

But I wouldn't get your hopes up if i were you on that default. *Goes back to counting how many pages he has wrote in word*

germanicus12 said:

Well I sent my story in already.... I believe I may have won by default.

Click to expand...

Define sent in, as I don't have a PM in my inbox and it has been made clear that the stories are to be posted in thread.

Apologies, I meant posted. You shall find it in the previous page. But for simplicity, I shall at some point post a link to it on this post.

1/14 Entries with <57 hours to deadline

Some of us have exams to do. I intend to do mine over the weekend.

I started writing my story about an hour ago- I hope to have it done today.

Two days is forever, man... I am well-versed in the art of procrastination.

ROUND ONE: Jiefin V.S. Anesthesia

Jiefin giggled childishly at the announcement. He was fighting a girl! He wasn’t even sure that was legal in his village. But whatever, he was going to finish the job no matter what rules he needed to break. He might feel a bit guilty beating up a girl, but maybe she was smart and would forfeit after seeing his awesome muscles. Yeah, that is the game plan. Walk up to the girl, flex muscles, and move on to Round 2.

“Wait here, Boulder,” Jiefin said. “I won’t be needing you for this fight.”

“Why can’t he just call me Hungsu?” Hungsu said quietly to himself. But it was too late to confront Jiefin about it. He was already jogging out of the rock’s sight…..However that works.

Jiefin looked near a shooting gallery, spotting Anesthesia. The wind blew strongly, kicking up dust in Jiefin’s eyes. He cursed and started rubbing at them furiously, wobbling and stumbling as he walked. Finally he regained his sight, peering over at the shooting gallery. Wait, where was Anesthesia?

Suddenly, it felt like a knife had gone through his brain, his whole body engulfed in an inferno of pain. He curled up in the fetal position like a massive wrecking ball of flesh, rolling around in the dusty ground. Tears streamed out of his eyes, he sobbed as all other senses faded away, only to be replaced by sheer pain.

Anesthesia stood behind him, laughing to herself.

“What a baby,” She said out loud. “Time to put him out of his misery!”

She thrusted downward with one of her knives, aiming for Jiefin’s head. As simple kill she thought, just a stab away.

Snap. Anesthesia looked down, showing a vague hint of dissatisfaction. A massive hand had grabbed her arm, bending it so quickly and strongly that it had snapped it like a twig. Bits of sharp bone poked through her skin, blood dripping on the dry ground. She turned her attention towards Jiefin’s face. It was covered in a disgusting mixture of sand, mucus, spit, and tears. His eyes were bloodshot, almost completely red with rage and pain. His chin and lips were covered with snot and spit, his yellow teeth bared like a vicious animal.

Anesthesia’s face showed no amount of concern though. She quickly whipped out another knife, and quickly attempted to strike a quick killing blow before Jiefin could react. But she soon found her attack stopped, her blade barely an inch away from Jiefin’s neck. She noticed his breathing getting heavier, his eyes staring right into hers. Suddenly, he let out a primal roar, lifting up both of her arms and head butting her in the chest. After the head butt he let go, sending her a few feet backward.

Anesthesia landed on her feet, simply shrugging off the brutal attack. Pain wasn’t a factor for her. But a quick glance at her mauled arm reminded her that immunity to pain didn’t mean invulnerability to attack. She then glanced over at Jiefin, who had gone from a sobbing mess to a rage fueled titan of muscle in mere seconds. It didn’t matter how strong he was though. Eventually the pain will consume his mind and kill him, or at least make him more killable. Yes, it was only a matter of time.

Jiefin shouted in pain. His entire existence was only suffering now, every sense simply another torture for him to endure. But he knew, even with his mind shattered and clouded with pain, that there was a way to end it. The girl, the one he had so kindly intended on letting live, need to be obliterated if he was to ever know peace again! With a vague sense of control, he willed his body towards the shooting gallery. He gripped one of the support beams, ripping it out of the building with ease. The rest of the building began to collapse, a massive cloud of dirt and debris filling the area.

Anesthesia could see the massive form of Jiefin, thrashing about in the dust cloud, swinging the massive wooden beam in rage. She quietly watched him slam the beam into the ground in frustration, wiping his eyes and occasionally falling down in pain. He continued to kick up even more dust, allowing her to conceal herself with relative ease.

He couldn’t take much more of it, she thought. Already he showed signs of losing control of his body. His legs kept giving out at random moments, and his roaring shouts were sounding more like whimpers and sobs again. She watched Jiefin finally fall to his knees, struggling to breathe with all of the dust filling the air. Anesthesia took one step forward, drawing on of her knives carefully. This was it. It was time to end this once and for all.

But then something happened, something so insignificant and simple that she hadn’t even thought could cause any problems. She coughed.

In a split second Jiefin gave a mighty roar, stood up, looked towards Anesthesia’s direction, and hurled the massive beam towards her. She tried to dodge, but her mangled arm couldn’t get out of the way quick enough. The beam snagged on the gory mess that was Anesthesia’s arm and carried itself and her towards the broken strength tester.

With a crash she landed, her arm now staying attached to her body by only a few stringy tendons and muscles. She pulled out a knife and began hacking away at her arm, which was now hopelessly snagged on the heavy beam. Already after she had freed herself of her burden did she hear the slow foot steps of Jiefin approaching her. It was time for a change in plans.

“I can make the pain stop Jiefin!” Her voice called from the pile of debris Jiefin had chucked her in. “I can make all of your pain go away forever.”

Jiefin’s body suddenly relaxed, all of the pain that had engulfed him snuffed out in an instant. His rage filled expression now gave way to a dumb smile and sleepy eyes. He sighed, looking dumbly at his opponent, then looking up and the sky and yawning. He was in a state of complete relaxation.

Anesthesia couldn’t believe it. He had practically fallen asleep where he stood. Now she had him where she wanted him. A simple slash across the throat and he’d be asleep forever. She approached him, noticing his eyes were closed and he was snoring. Just like before, he resembled an over-sized baby.

Anesthesia climbed up his arm and onto his shoulder. From there, she could slit his throat. But as she struggled up onto his shoulder, she heard something escape Jiefin’s lips.

“Stupid bedbugs,” he said sleepily. His massive hand effortlessly swatted Anesthesia off of his shoulder. She calmly landed on her feet, turning around to finish of Jiefin with a simple knife throw. But as she turned around a massive shadow grew darker and darker on her. His massive form came rushing down with a force of an avalanche, crushing Anesthesia. The fight was over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I killed her, Boulder,” Jiefin said. His voice quivered, his eyes holding back tears. “I didn’t mean too! I was just so angry! I don’t even remember how I did it! I just woke up and there was all sorts of blood and stuff underneath me. Oh Ruijim! Forgive me for what I have done today!”

Jiefin coughed up blood as he cried. While he had won the fight, his fall onto Anesthesia didn’t have its consequences. One of the knives she carried carved a nasty scare under his left eye, and his chest had slammed right into her knife bag, having devastating results.

“You did what you had too,” Hungsu’s deep voice responded. “Now come, you can pray on our way to the observation tower.”

Jiefin sniffled a little and picked up Hungsu, beginning his walk towards the observation tower. Maybe these other fights will take his mind off of his wounds and his cruel act of violence.

________________________________________________________________

Eh, I'm sure fuschia will beat my story. But hey, I had fun writing it so whatever.

Nylan said:

1/14 Entries with <57 hours to deadline

Click to expand...

I somehow thought that it was the 20th. My bad. I'll work it out now then.

lord_joakim said:

I somehow thought that it was the 20th. My bad. I'll work it out now then.

Click to expand...

It is. The 20th is about 48 hours from now.

It was a rainy night outside, but in there, fire was warming the whole room. The many tables were almost empty, with a lone, soundly sleeping man was resting next to one, his presence as empty as the beer before him. The bartender stood with the last cleaned glass and placed it in the cupboard by the wall. She took off the headscarf she was wearing, letting her hair loosen, and yawned. The day had been long; there had been many guests heading for the famed tournament in Carnivale. The portal was only open for one more day, then the contest would begin. She yawned and looked at the man at the table. Well, perhaps not everybody were going there; this one did not look like he would be waking up in a few days. She shrugged and walked around the bar, searching in her pockets for the key to the door. Eventually, the door should be closed anyways, and there hadn't been a guest for an hour or so. It was a stormy night outside, nobody would be running around in that weather. She put the key into the keyhole, and it began turning it; the door cracked shut. She turned and walked a few steps away from the door as she heard the rusty knob turn fast.

She looked back at the entrance, hearing loud bangs from the outside, and rushed to open it up again; it creaked open, and in the rain outside, a shady, wet old man stood and shaked.
"Could ye fine lady help me and share me a poor room fer me and my partner?" he said, cupping his bald head against the rain with his hand.
"Sure mister, I'll see if any rooms are available," she said, walking back to her bar, to check the guestbook. In the doorframe, the man stood for a while, carefully looking throughout the room, watching it in details; it has been a while since the last time he had been sleeping in a warm bed. Soon, Tok-Tok would arrive after having tied the ox. The old man walked inside with steady feet.
"So, er, ye have them beds free? I haven't slept in a warm, soft bed fer some weeks now."
"Actually," the bartender said, looking at the old man with a sorry look, "We have no vacancy. I'm afraid you can't sleep here."
The old man looked disappointedly at the young woman, while a weird figure appeared in the door. His eyes looked down in dismay. Tok-Tok walked forward, prepared to talk with her.

OK I REALIZED IT WAS THE 20th AND I'M TIRED AS HELL SO I'LL FINISH IT FRIDAY. YES, AND THE BATTLE.

I am rebuilding my house and am currently swamped with work so I might find it hard to write a story by the deadline.

He Did Battle With Nolan

Sybrus Brayne slunk into his makeshift sleeping quarters, taking a quick look around to ensure that it was undisturbed. The location was a subterranean locker room, in a building that may have once been part of Carnivale&#8217;s administration complex. The once-colourful metal was now flecked and dulled, the thin doors were dented inwards. The lights were harsh and flickering- the entire scene was, in fact, much like home.

Lying down on a pile of towels stacked in the corner, Sybrus yawned and unzipped his vest. Pulling it off, something caught uncomfortably going over his head. He reached back. Something sharp caught on him as he did so.

With a mumble of discomfort, he finished pulling off the garment and examined the back. A small, grey dot distinguished itself from the darker bluegrey of the vest&#8217;s synthetic, leathery material. It was a bug of some sort, if he knew his microengineering as well as he believed. He picked it up and looked into the little black lens- the machinery spun around to face him.

&#8220;Hello there.&#8221; He said amicably, quickly looking over the device, &#8220;Sorry about this.&#8221;

With his mechanical left hand, he crushed the tiny instrument, flicking it over the lockers and out of sight.

Comfortably nestled in the towels, the human half of Sybrus Brayne drifted into quiet sleep, mentally preparing himself for the battle to come the next morning. His mechanical half, by contrast, grew agitated, the digits on his left hand and foot spasming and twitching like an insect caught on a pin. It was when the conscious, human brain was absent that the activities of the mechanical half became readily apparent. The constructed body constantly scanned the area, never resting, seldom thinking, only reacting to any stimuli it came across. Typically, it would continue this behaviour for the entirety of the long night.

This night, however, would prove to be much shorter.

It was early in the morning- not that you could tell in the perpetually-lit interior- when there was the slightest noise at the door. The mechanical body froze. A few tapping noises, then a sizzling hiss emanated through the halls. Several electrical shocks raised Sybrus to groggy, uncomfortable alertness. In lithe silence, he rose vertical, slipped his vest back on, and crawled backwards into a corner on the ceiling, his mechanical digits digging into the degraded concrete. Looking up, he punched out a ceiling tile and, spiderlike, flipped into it, quickly replacing the displaced tile.

With silent steps, the invading figure entered the room. Sybrus looked down through a crack.

Nolan.

He was, at first glance, a normal-looking human. Fairly well-built and slightly scarred, but with an entirely blank expression on his soft-featured face. He looked like a healthy young man who had let himself go several years ago. A lumpy brown bag was slung over his shoulder. As he turned around, Sybrus saw once again the metallic, tubular apparatus on Nolan&#8217;s left arm. It seemed to be... glowing?

Nolan swept his eyes throughout the room, focusing intently on the makeshift bed before shifting his glances upwards, to the roof. Sybrus froze, not daring to breathe.

&#8220;Ah.&#8221; said the intruder, flatly. With shocking speed, he leapt up towards the roof, and punched directly below Sybrus with his left arm. A powerful blast emenated from his fingertips, shattering the panel and scorching the areas around it. In a flash, the cyborg was scampering through the crowded space in the roof, until he reached a wall. Kicking downwards with his robotic leg, he fell through and landed clumsily on the edge of a row of lockers. Lunging downwards at Nolan, his opponent nimbly dodged out of the way. Sybrus landed on his hands and flipped his body, carrying the momentum back to the far side of the room. For a moment, the two paused.

&#8220;Thermal vision.&#8221; Stated Nolan, gesturing to the hole he had blasted in the roof.

&#8220;I thought you said we had a truce until tomorrow.&#8221;

&#8220;It is 4:12 AM- tomorrow.&#8221;

&#8220;Hahah, well, you got me-&#8221; Sybrus interrupted himself and flung his body at Nolan, this time with his collapsed staff in hand. He swung the weapon as it extended. Nolan&#8217;s metal-sheathed arm moved to block it. In the middle of the locker room, the two men engaged in head to head battle, skilfully parrying blow to blow. In one block, Nolan seized the end of the staff, sparks flying from his hand. Sybrus retaliated, punching Nolan in the face with his mechanical arm. Nolan maintained his grip, a trickle of blood oozing down his face, and aimed a fierce kick at Sybrus&#8217; groin. The cyborg jumped backwards, the sudden force sliding the staff out of Nolan&#8217;s grasp.

&#8220;Closed quarters hardly suit me.&#8221;

With that, Sybrus Brayne flung himself at a wall, deflecting off it and sprinting towards the exit. Nolan gave pursuit, deftly picking a syringe out of his brown bag and firing it into his sheathed arm. He shuddered and smiled, as the chemicals began to activate throughout his system, pushing his muscles to the maximum. He would soon catch his opponent.

Sybrus leapt out into the night, seeing little from the thin sickle of the moon. There were tents some distance to his sides, and directly ahead, Carnivale&#8217;s decrepit, broken-down roller coaster. Brayne sprinted to the base of one of its support girders and began to clamber upwards as Nolan burst through the door in pursuit. Safely out of jumping distance, Sybrus spun around and looked at his opponent, who reached the base of the ride&#8217;s support with stunning speed. The eyes of the two combatants met. Sybrus&#8217; were alive with manic energy, Nolan&#8217;s with calm intention. His cannon-like arm thrust out at the beam, his partially-concealed fingers grasping it. Nearby lights burst to life, accelerated, out of key music blasted out from speakers on the ride, and Sybrus started to scream with pain as powerful electricity conducted through his metallic body, burning at all organic contacts. All electrical systems firing, he was bodily flung backwards. His head cracked against another pillar before he landed roughly on the ground. Nolan approached, keeping his hand on the metal of the structure at all times.

&#8220;I thought you were trying to avoid getting trapped in enclosed spaces- I know how you fight, Sybrus Brayne.&#8221;

Sparks leapt about the structure as the figure on the ground, grunting in pain, pulled himself backwards with his human limbs- his mechanical half still jittering incoherently.

However, Nolan seemed to be weakening. He released the metal bar, gasping in relief, before leaping towards Sybrus. His hand grabbed the cyborg&#8217;s foot, powerful electricity pulsing through his body again. Writhing, Sybrus&#8217; leg spasmed violently, managing to kick Nolan&#8217;s arm away. Control over his mechanical arm restored, Sybrus began a strange, three-limbed lope away from his pursuer. Once free of the metallic ride&#8217;s understructure, Sybrus rose again to his feet, sprinting away and brandishing his staff. As shock wore off, Sybrus became conscious of the massive pain in his upper torso, neck and hips. The flesh on his surface, next to his metallic regions, was badly burnt.

As he ran, Sybrus&#8217; mind raced to find a way to counter Nolan. He could engage him in close quarters only with his staff- a non-conductive polymer. Perhaps Nolan&#8217;s electrical capacities were limited- they might be related to the injected chemicals he had earlier observed Nolan using in Carnivale&#8217;s bar. However, Sybrus had no desire to test Nolan&#8217;s limits.

Interrupting this train of thought was his arrival at the base of the log flume ride- the supports of this construct were entirely wooden.

&#8220;Advantage mine.&#8221; Grimaced Sybrus, as he prepared to leap onto the lowest braces.

In mid-leap however, something caught his mechanical leg, and Sybrus was swung down to the ground. Instinctively spinning around with his staff, he swung at the offending object, striking Nolan&#8217;s non-sheathed hand with vicious force. Sparing not a second to ponder how the man had caught him so fast, Sybrus limberly flowed upwards into the structure. He looked down to see Nolan unloading yet another syringe into the hole in his metal arm. Looking up, Nolan let out an angered yell and nearly flew onto the braces, leaping from one to another, his left arm glowing with golden energy. Nolan pursued Sybrus in a bizarre chase before the cyborg reached a maintenance box at the top of the ride. Sybrus threw a wrench down at his pursuer, narrowly missing, then flipped his body onto the top of the ride. It was a wooden half-tube, through which water had once flowed. He began to run down its slope, buying time to think of a solution. He had to outrun Nolan and take him by surprise- but the man was too fast. It was dangerous to battle him hand to hand, and Sybrus had no weapons with which he could do damage at a distance-

Nolan leapt up from beneath, landing squarely in Sybrus&#8217; way. The cyborg struck at Nolan&#8217;s gut then flipped forwards, landing behind him. The reeling Nolan flung his metallic arm at Sybrus, knocking him off the flume. Desperately grabbing at the side, Sybrus flipped beneath it. His other arm caught the far side of the tube, and he flipped his body back in. Robotic foot contacted human neck, and Nolan was knocked back again. This was the moment! With a deft flick of his staff, Sybrus cut a strap of Nolan&#8217;s bag and caught the material on its bladed tip. He withdrew his weapon, dragging the bag with him. Nolan lunged forward, but Sybrus dodged with a careful backstep, waving the bag dangerously over the side. Sybrus gave a deliberate twitch, causing Nolan to freeze for a moment. Two colourful vials fell out of the dangling end of the precariously-held bag. Nolan winced again.

&#8220;Give it to me.&#8221;

&#8220;Sure.&#8221;

Sybrus feigned a second twitch then swung the bag viciously at his enemy&#8217;s face. Nolan shouted in pain at the crunching noise, and staggered backwards. The bag began to drip and dampen as fluid escaped broken vials.

&#8220;No! Don&#8217;t do it!&#8221;

Nolan&#8217;s apparent composure was cracking. The cyborg grimaced and swung again. Nolan dodged it, not daring to block it lest further damage be done. A returning blow caught him in the jaw, a trail of blood splashing across his face.

&#8220;It&#8217;s over Nolan! Give it up! I don&#8217;t want to ki-&#8221;

Nolan, eyes glowing, leapt towards Sybrus, his arm wound up for a blow of terrific proportions. Sybrus tried to dodge, but he could not do so fast enough while simultaneously balancing the weighty bag. The swirling golden aura condensed around Nolan&#8217;s metal-encased fist, concentrating into a massive physical force striking Sybrus squarely in the chest. Dazed, Sybrus was sent flying off of the side of the ride and downwards, towards the rapidly approaching ground. With a cry, Nolan leapt out in pursuit.

The mechanical half of Sybrus took over. Twisting his body about, he landed on his resilient mechanical left side. Reactions accelerated astronomically as the bracing robotic arm shot out, catching the falling staff and bag just before they hit the ground. Sybrus&#8217; human leg shot out backwards, leaving his body balanced only on two mechanical toes. He kicked his organic leg about, the rest of his body twisting and accentuating the spin. His mechanical arm spun the staff with inhuman speed, accelerating to a deadly velocity. Nolan fell, as if in slow motion, his eyes focused and his glowing arm prepared for a final series of blows. With a final spin, Sybrus unleashed the bag in a precision blow against his rival&#8217;s head. Glass shards flew and unknown liquids splattered. Nolan&#8217;s body, in the last split-second of falling, switched from a controlled vertical drop to a spinning, crunching collision between his head, shoulder and the hard packed earth. Sybrus smashed the bag into his fallen opponent&#8217;s face one last time. Nolan let out a cry, which faded to a gurgle, then went silent.

Sybrus stepped back, keeping his jury-rigged flail at the ready. He paced in a defensive stance around Nolan&#8217;s body, expecting an attack at any second. None was forthcoming. Nolan simply lay on his side, bleeding, twitching, and making short, rasping breaths. After ten seconds, it was clear that he was unconscious. Sybrus stuck his weapon into the ground, and approached his vanquished foe. With a difficult heave, he lifted the man onto his shoulder, picked up his staff, and set out towards the observation tower.

Approximately 4/14 submissions are in with less than 24 hours to the deadline.

Machines​

I felt the conflicts beginning as I sat cross-legged on the main thoroughfare of the Carnivale, to my left sat a House of Horrors and to my right a laser shooting arena. The door frames were rotten; the doors themselves non-existent ; the windows shattered and the paint chipped and peeling in great long stripes. It was like the rest of this place old, decaying and rotten to the core, just like the blood sports that now took place inside its grounds. First there was the conflict between Anaesthesia and Jiefin. I could do nothing there: Anaesthesia died long before she began to feel pain and Jiefin would have to wait until I could get his permission to help him, by which time the aid I could offer would be beyond pointless: it would be a waste of my time and energy and therefore would disadvantage me for no reason. Time passes, I don't know how long, I do not bother to keep track. Why should I? Time has no place in my world. It feels as if seconds have passed and the second conflict begins. By the end Nolan was badly injured but so was the cyborg, is that the correct word? I must keep up to date with these new developments. Anyway he was badly injured as well. I set to work helping Nolan remain put long enough for him to receive medical care and attention and I soothed his pain. This ends up causing my own mind to loosen and drift away and for my body to be racked by pain. Not that it matters for I suspect the Merc will cause me more. In this madhouse I would not be surprised if he was a massive, muscled man with two machine-guns (?) in his hands and belts of ammunition around his shoulders.

***
​

More meaningless time passes. How can this mercenary not think to look down the main thorough fare? Suddenly my body hears the crackling of electricity and intense heat. I block the heat instinctively and rush back to my body. In front of me stands a tall, strange figure in front of him, streaming out lighting from his wrist. I try to enter his mind but nothing is there. A robot perhaps? I stand in one smooth movement and dash forwards, sprinting at nearly 11 m.p.h, I push this rust-bucket of a body I find myself in as far as it will go. The lighting proves to be faster and the bolt smashes into me. I black-out, my muscles go into spasm and I fly backwards, smashing a hole in the rotten wooden wall of the laser arena. I stagger back to my feet, in excruciating pain, and duck out of sight. The robot follows me in:
"Computer analyse the situation."
He obviously receives some sort of reply. He lumbers slightly stiffly towards my position, I think he may have been caught in some backlash from one of the blasts. He punches straight through my cover and his rusty steel fist powers into my face, breaking my nasal bones and maxilla (the upper jaw bone in which your teeth sit). I spit out my front teeth and strike back with my sword. Clack! The sword slides harmlessly off. I need more room. I retreat deeper into the maze with the robot hot on my heels.

***​

The battle continued to shift between us. One time I cut an important wire. Another time he cracks a couple of rips. It probably would have continued in this fashion for quite some time but the robot had enough of a puny biological machine inflicting so many annoying wounds on him.
"Set ionising power to maximum. Amplify current and voltage with current as the priority."
I watched horrified as he brought his weapon to bare.
"If you miss you will burn down the whole Carnivale!"
"I will not miss. Why would I care if organic enemies died? It would only put me at an advantage."
"How can you..." I am interrupted by my own scream. My heart goes into spasm. I only have one option. I must act soon before I lose consciousness.

***​

"The task is complete. The enemy is dead."
"Not quite!"
"How is this possible?! I have no mind empath."
"You have a mind. Just one that a human cannot interface with readily. I used the current passing between your hand and my body to download myself and then located a computer-AI interface through which I entered your AI mind."
"You are dead. You must be the product of a system malfunction."
"Why are you talking to me if I am a system malfunction?"
"That is a very good question. Computer activate firewalls alpha, omicron and rho."
"Ah, ah, ah. I have taken the liberty of disabling your firewalls and am breaking into your security system as we speak. I must admit this is all very disorientating. How can you live like this?"
"How can you live as you do?"
"You should not answer a question with a question!"
"I just did."
"Don't bother using an encryption I can still read what you are saying."
"Damnit now your talking in binary. Not that it matters as I have taken your security systems off-line and am now hacking into your core programming."
"You will not succeed."
"I nearly have."
"You will not succeed."
"Bow to me. Your core programming is mine."
"I refuse. Self-destruct in five, four, three"
"Computer abort now."
"Two, one"
"Computer abort"

***​

The explosion destroys the body and sends the head, with the electronic brain that contains an electrical copy of Cabera's brain, goes soaring through the air. It lands on top of a large boulder.
"Cabera?"
"Hungsu!"
"Why are you in a strange shaped lump of metal on top of me?"
"Long story. Can I rest inside you for a few minutes. I will tell you everything. Its just this brain is about to shut down."
"No.. Oh I see its too late. This had better be a tale worth me missing my sleep for."
"It will be."
"Good, begin."

***​

And so after a short while I had outlined the key events of the past half an hour to Hungsu.
"Ingenious. I assume you will want to find a human host now?"
"If you give me the energy boast I need."
"Anything to get you out from inside my mind. You feel slippery."
"So do you. Anyway are we agreed?"
"Yes."

***​

The spectator blinked twice. He is dressed in army fatigues and must be only twenty-five. He has a pistol on him. How ironic! I asked for a middle-aged man and Hungsu puts me inside a young killer. How he must be laughing. Anyway off I go.


OOC notes; I hope I have surprised you all in some way with this story with my interpretation of the plasma rifle. The Hungsu part was an off- the-cuff addition to fit the ground rules I laid down for Cabera. I think I have portrayed his character fairly. Anyway over to you judges to judge now. I told you I might be able to get it in before the deadline Nylan. Oh one last thing: I request a point of personal privilege regarding spelling mistakes as I am dyslexic, and dyspraxia but that affects my hand writing. I have had a MRI scan and numerous assessments which confirm this but the MRI scan might have been for other reasons as well, I'm not sure. Anyway please bear this in mind if you find any spelling mistakes. Finally any words with (?) after them are words that Cabera is not completely sure of the meaning of.

Icekommander smiled to himself. This would get interesting, much as he had hoped it would. It had been long, far to long since he had last enjoyed himself. With a wave of his hand his to familiars, formed out of the misty air. Carefully searching for a target, Icekommander saw a large, circular metal construction rise out of the mist before him. Then to his right he could see a glint. He recognized that glint was, it was…

*CKKKK* The sound of sword on Ice rippled throughout Carnivale. That was good, he wasn’t loosing his touch. The shards of his quick shield hit the ground with a sharp shattering sound. Before him stood a tall man, wearing a uniform Icekommander hadn’t seen in nearly two thousand years, that of a roman legionnaires. His mind flashed back to the last time he’d seen them, in the place now known as Scotland, at the time of 437AD. He remembered overhearing the legions talking about how the empire was falling, and only if General Germanicus hadn’t disappeared. Looking closer at his helmet, Icekommander realized that this would be that missing general. The two stared at each other, before Icekommander tossed of an Ironic salute, and his larger minion, bluetooth shot a freezing icicle, aimed straight for the heart.

With a curse, the General leaped forward, the icicle shattering on his battered shield. Bluetooth and Whitelock were both piles of shards in three quick sword strokes, the general with two dents in his shield and one on his right boot to show for it. Suddenly realizing the danger he might have just turned his back to Germanicus jumped and spun, just as an ice beam the diameter of a tennis ball exploded forward, neatly ripping his helmet off. Two delicate minions for a helmet and a few dents, a fair trade. This would be interesting indeed.

“Give it up,” a voice emerged from Icekommander, chilling the roman General to the bone. Spitting once on the ground, the general leaped forward to attack. Having risen from the bottom of the legionnaires ranks o being the most celebrated general’s of his time, Germanicus attacked with the fury of a cornered polar bear mother. Five strokes bounced off of ice pulled from the air, until the sixth stroke bit deep into the ice golem. Glancing down at his wound, Icekommander gave a gesture, and the whole sword dropped forty degrees, to well below zero. With a startled oath the general dropped the sword. With a flick of his foot, the golem was in possession of the sword. He quickly threw the sword, which plunged point down into the ground at the General’s feet. Looking down, the general realized it has held hilt up by Ice.

“Hardly the worst I’ve seen. But now it’s my turn. Pick up the sword and try again” As the general pulled his sword from the ice, much like King Arthur pulled Excalibur from the rock, Icekommander pulled two of his own swords from the very moisture in the air. Taking two steps forward, Ice smashed off metal. The first swing smashed off a shield, the second nearly knocking Germanicus’s sword from his hand, followed by parry, and a quick thrust which was knocked to the side by shield and breastplate. The roman’s counter attack sheared one of the swords in two, which had the unfortunate side effect of sending ice splinter everywhere. As the Generals shield flew in front of his face, Icekommander smashed his sword against it’s top rim stepped forward, and in the gap newly created between roman and shield sent one Ice bolt straight towards the general’s face. Never having a chance to dodge the general fell back wards into death’s embrace.

Seeing the general’s helmet on the ground nearby, Icekommander picked it up and scratched two new tally marks on it’s side, followed by one long one through the middle. He then fitted the errant helmet over Germanicus’s face, before saluting one more time, and returning to his stroll towards the Ferris wheel.


OOC: Good match Germanicus. Good match.

My humble submission. Perhaps not as inventive as I could - or should - have made it, but it holds a certain elegance. Azash didn't give me as much to work with as I'd maybe like... but I'm quite interested to see his rebuttal.


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TURN ONCE SUBMISSION: A Solution