|
Question Mark? -> RE: =HS= Character Discussion Thread (3/6/2012 19:15:12)
|
The city erupts into madness.
Explosions, death, cataclysm, madness, wrath.
The city is rife with absolute dissarray.
It has fallen into madness.
Thursday lurches about, partly due to his bleeding chest wound and partially due to the emmense weight of the heavy broadsword taht he drags behind him as he chases after teh large blue truck that even now parks iteself near the Chaos Carnival.
A series of Pythagoras' minions step out, followed by the professor himself, and begin setting up transmitters fro mind-control devices.
"Perfect. All of this needless chaos should be subdued within the hour. Just a quick transimssion and we can take down each and every source of anarchy. Ingenious, of course."
Thursday is running a a dead sprint now, and the miniature clock affixed to the hilt is ticking slowly down, with the hands moving ever closer to teh point marked with the symbol of infinity.
The mechanism runs all the way through the hilt of the blade, and it shudders ever so slightly in thursday's hands as he points it at the Professor.
1:35
Pythagoras simply continues his work, calibrating the transmitter tower.
"Simply superlative. Just a simple tranmission, and we can put most of the major carnival operatives out of comission.
With a bit more time, we might even be able to attempt to take on the larger figures.
Until then, of course, we'll have to control them manually."
He hands out electrodes to his minions, smaller ones this time, and virtually undetectable.
"Now all that we have to do is-"
"You Cut me off."
"What? Who's there?"
Thursday steps from the shadows, bloodied, gaunt, and gasping with fervor.
"YOU. STOPPED. THEM. AlL oF mY DELICIOUS LIttLe FRIENds. They whispered to me drove me controled me and my actions but now and here you killed them and stopped them and left me to die while you tested on me like I was your lab monkey and you used me to figure out how they worked so that you could kill them that's been your plan all along you want to get rid of the madness and kill them all you can't hide from me I am Thursday.
"What? How did you- How did you guess escape?"
"HOW DID I GET OUT OF your LiTtLE jACKET? Lookie here!"
Thursday displays the blade and its counter.
1:13
"Oh Gods. No."
"oH gODS yES."
0:57
Thursday swings the broadsword, destroying teh transmitter and smcking into Pythagoras with the blunt edge of teh blade, knocking him down.
Thursday's voices are speaking in union now. Not fused, like the Ringmaster, but organized. Like his personalities have reached a consensus.
0:30
"FOOLISH CREATURE. THIS CITY IS NO PLACE FOR HEROES."
0:25
The masked minons leap at him, attempting to pry the blade away, but they are knocked into walls and thrown into the street with artful swings of the blade. Thursday's swordsmanship seems to be improving.
0:15
Thursday tears off his bloody and tattered coat, leaving him in a grey dress shirt and torn slacks. He kicks Pythagoras, to ensure that he is unconscious.
0:10
0:09
0:08
0:07
He smashes the mind control devices into fragments, ensuring that they cannot be utilized by any other little hero who happens to pass by.
0:03
He rams the blade into the ground and wedges it there.
0:02
He carefully runs his tongue along his arms, and his fingers along his body, lapping up the remaining pitch black blood.
0:01
The planets and their moons slip into alignment, and, for the first time in aeons, the alignment is complete. A single thin beam of light completes its journey from an ancient place and time, reflecting off of the final device and activating the transmitter that was buried long ago within the bowels of the earth. The blade ceases to tick.
0:00
Thursday can TASTE it now. All of the madness. The insanity. So sweet. So delicious. The most beautiful of all things. It oozes from them, orange and bright and sweet oh so sweet he must have some. He feasts upon the source of the sweetness and drops him to the floor hollow but he got to have the sweetness inside and that is all that matters their madness is such beautiful ambrosia that it would be a waste not to eat it all. All. All of it.
|
|
|
|
