Post by sineG yuG lareneG on Apr 2, 2012 16:08:36 GMT -5
Part 1
Durth Vedar was busy trying to dispose of one of the numerous corpses that had been piling up (some people just couldn't shut their mouthes about asthma) when alarms rang out. A flustered Acolyte reluctantly entered the room, knowing the dangers of being the messenger of bad news.
"What is... Going... On?" The soldier couldn't see his face, but he knew Durth Vedar was giving him a piercing stare, just waiting to see if he cracked a joke about his speech impediment.
"Our reconnaissance squad has reported a large mass of hostiles approaching us. And, uh... Something about a ghost with a shoehorn..."
"Is that... A joke?"
"No, sir. The scout described it as an 'unforgettable sight,' and it's 'wails 'the exactly opposite of Dork Vedar-" His neck suddenly constricted to the approximate diameter of a straw from some unseen force. Vedar waved his hand and the corpse flew over to join the pile gathered by a large assortment of blenders.
At least if they were attacked, he could probably dismiss them as casualties of war to be burned with the rest. Probably.
---
Several teens loitered about the parking lot of a futuristic establishment. The manager, a rather short-tempered man whose business had fallen on hard times since Smooze moved in nearby, had rushed out to shoo them off. He never came back.
The Goth Metal Drake licked it's lips, savoring the taste of negative emotions. It could definitely taste the well prepared rage, with some depressed undertones to it. There was even the fresher emotion of fear, leaving a subtle aftertaste to its snack.
"This plan is ridiculous." A kid with orange hair defying physics, as per usual with Japanese culture, was casually leaning against a rhino and chatting to equally odd people. It's a good thing that people in Japan apparently speak English.
"Come on, Neku! It's a popular trend!" A girl with flamboyant hair and outlandish clothing that revealed more than appropriate (once more the norm in Japan) held a stuffed animal and urged the general of the mismatched army of men, monsters, and things there were somewhere in between to follow in a rich, albeit ridiculous, tradition.
"It's stupid. I don't follow trends, especially ones like this."
"But it's just a small detail that makes a difference."
"If this difference is to make a fool of myself, then you're right about that."
"Please?"
"Why can't you just have your pig do it? He doesn't have any bones to break."
"I've told you before, Mr. Mew is a cat! Not a pig! He's called Mr. Mew!"
"While I hate to interrupt such profound debate, I think it's about time we move into action. Old Pi-face is getting restless."
---
Durth Vedar wheezed as he made his way to their towering wall. More than one unfortunate soldier found himself in pain after mistaking him for an old man. Acolytes sprang into formation quickly and gathered at the gates, more eager to deal with the enemies in front rather than the short-tempered one who couldn't take a joke.
Two individual forces marched towards the diverse settlements of Smooze, each vastly different in terms of goals and strength. Black Hand Snipers were the first to arrive, stopping at a distance from the sprawling complex and taking out shining orbs.
Followers of Smooze preparing for battle kept a warily eye on them, debating on whether or not they posed a threat. They soon noticed a pattern developing.
••• • • •
• • • • • •
••• ••• •
• • • • •
••• • • ••• • • •••
•• • • • • • • ••
• • • •• • • •
••• • • ••• ••• ••• •••
Before they had time to process this cryptic design, their true foe arrived.
"Attention, all you tasteless tetrahedra! This equation is subtracting from my arts and crafts time. I can think of a decillion better things to be doing. So let's get the class underway and factor you hectopascals so I can add this garbage you call a headquarters to the heap!"
---
One follower considered himself rather lucky, having the privilege to man an Ion Cannon rather than be stationed on the ground where bloodshed would be soon to follow. No fighting for this guy. Just a nice, comfy view of-
He never had time to turn around when a sudden SO ZETTA SLOW blasted him off the spire the cannon was mounted on.
Sho Minamimoto materialized atop the defense, ready to scrap the irritating toy. Before any of the followers could figure out how to dispatch the hero without blowing up their own defense, he had pumped it full of spiraling energy rounds, rendering it useless. With a loud grating sound, he delivered a series of rapid kicks that crumpled the armor plating like tin foil and sent it hurtling towards the ground.
Before they could strike, Sho teleported again. He repeated the same process to several more cannons, gradually slower this time. By the fifth warp, his teleport barely got him to the central cannon.
The followers thought that they would finally be able to dish out damage to him now that he had expended some energy. They were wrong.
When he had appeared atop the central cannon, he was no longer in his fashionable attire. Rather, his clothing had been rags, frayed around the edges and whipping around his frame. Across his torso was a series of pitch black lines, forming a design of sorts. Clearing away this Ion Cannon quickly in his Taboo form, he lifted up his megaphone.
"You brain-dead polynomials are so zetta pathetic!" From his vantage point, his voice reverberated throughout the base and was deafening those who were smart enough to know the first to rush into battle never came back. Worshippers pressed their hands over their ears as his magnified voice recited mathematical terms.
Acolytes did nothing to help them, partially because screaming Medic! at them usually resulted in a vindictive healing, but mostly because they could do nothing about Minamimoto. There was also the fact that a large horde of shadowy forest animals was rapidly approaching.
They readied themselves against the Noise, who were rapidly approaching the gates thanks to Minamimoto taking out the cannons in their direction.
Rather than wait for the battle to come to the walls, the Acolytes striked first, opening the gates and rushing out to combat them.
But what they didn't count on was some of the animals being equally fast to them, hopped up on so many drugs they sometimes hallucinated and saw gingerbread men threaten to sue them for wanting dental.
Alterna Wolves led the initial charge as they got the whiff of fresh blood. Granted, it was a sort of gooey, drugged blood, but it held the same symbolic meaning to them nevertheless.
They bound towards the gates in a few swift leaps, reaching it well before the other units. Acolytes had just rushed out to initate the bloodshed, but were caught off guard by the wolves.
With their speed, swords and armor, they could easily dispatch a humanoid figure. But these ferocious animals posed a different problem. Barely coming up to their knees and fighting with tooth and claw, their Lightning Charge helped them to break through their ranks as they shot past them and set the ground aflame. They didn't target conventionally areas, either. Razor sharp teeth dug into their kneecaps and forced them to the ground, their head now exposed to vicious clawing. Some lucky survivors might have thought they looked cool and appeared as grizzled veterans if they weren't in such incredible pain.
Rather more humiliating and painful than the face-gorging was their natural tendency to clamp on wherever looked best... Which, unfortunately for the poor interns, was the crotch.
Painful howls of agony came from those who suffered a brutal castration as the wolves dug their dagger-like fangs right into their most prided on (or in most cases, ashamed of) points.
While the animals may have darted around before an Acolyte could manage to impale it and strike in their most tender spots, the Smooze force was nearly triple their size, not to mention the backup they had. Alterna Wolves were soon pushed back with the rest of the Noise.
---
Durth Vedar observed this tactic with annoyance, but was too preoccupied with the motion sickness of clinging to a speedy jet to care all that much.
"You need me to slow down so you can catch your breathe, gramps?" A hotshot new recruit was at the wheel, rather arrogant thanks to his quick ascension through the ranks. Vedar would need to craft an especially grueling punishment for him after this was over. For now he settled on making him smash his head against the glass through his powers.
But he soon spotted his desired target. A large assembly of tall beasts he couldn't quite make out from this distance were branching out from the main invasion force and rapidly approaching the walls, much to the alarm of the Apprentices and Mechanics. But through the colorless and indistinct gray hues of the Noise he spotted a shock of orange hair.
Gesturing towards the group to the disorientated and more subdued soldier, the Arwing began to descend from the sky.
Other Smooze ships dominated the skies, ready to bombard the enemy. Unfortunately, they weren't suited for this sort of task. While their lasers easily cut through whatever was unlucky enough to be in the way, strong as they were, they were more suited to destroying those with worse ships than hordes of monsters. There was simply too much Noise to make an impact on the advancing army. The Arwing's Smart Bombs were far more effective, but one ship could only do so much. (It's twin currently helping Vedar)
Seen only by Saboteurs making a mockery of Smooze, Un-Destroyers carried off the civilians who worked the factories tirelessly, making it all the more easy for them as they vandalized Smooze's image.
---
"I am not punching the wall." Not all generals appeared to have the same wall-punching tendencies of more reckless armies.
"We've got thousands of giant bears with huge claws. Why should I go hurt and humiliate myself because some rabbit started a fad?"
"I'm not trying to make you emo again! It's just something cool to do!" Fortunately the arrival of a hurtling object interrupted them. He gave the order to the Wall of Grizzlies to tear it down while Shiki was distracted.
Wall 'o Grizzlies had earned their name by the impressive figure they cut. At around eight feet tall and claws at least a foot long, nobody wanted to mess with these huge shadowy beasts. In unison they turned their heads skyward and let out a chorus of unearthly howls, rivaling that of the mad mathematician who was now descending the spire he wound up on. Many of the Apprentices cowered in fright. As the last echoes of their howl faded away, a sinister new glint had appear in the menacing shine of their claws.
By an unseen command, they all charged the walls together, a deadly whirlwind of claws ready to slice away at the steel. Despite the high quality metal, they left large gorges in the surface after scoring only a single blow. With furious motion they tore into the plating and pried away the Titansteel, causing many Mechanics to coincidentally remember that they had dentist appointments to attend to.
This fury of claws against the metal continued, making swift progress thanks to their immense strength. They paid no attention to the newcomer.
Durth Vedar eyed the teens, thinking it would be an easy fight. He raised his hand dramatically, thinking that this would probably be the closest he would get to avenging Fettman and Tenson despite them having nothing to do with it. It'd still make him feel better.
He was about to force choke the orange-haired one when he suddenly felt a sharp and intense pain at his side as a large rhino rammed him with the force of a train. The horn of the Trance Rhino punched right through his lung.
"YOUR FOUL BEASTS WON'T... Hey, I CAN ACTUALLY SPEAK-" The rhino halted and the Goth Metal Drake swung a spiked tail to scrap Vedar off his horn, without getting too much blood everywhere. He painstakingly got up.
"You... Shall... Suffer." A sinister red beam extended from a small bloodstained handle. In response he was hit by a bowl of old porridge from bystanders.
Nod civilians were spectators to this fight, determined to do all in their power to make their mark on their battle.
"Hey Vedar. Yo mama so fat, Kenobi said that's 'no moon, that's yo mama!'" The man high fived his neighboring civilian, setting off the C-4 strapped to themselves before Vedar could do anything to him.
While their leader was busy getting humiliated, the Grizzlies sent a large section of the wall tumbling. Mechanics who had tried to hold it together in vain ran off screaming as they gave off victorious howls. They ran right into Sho Minamimoto, who had expertly maneuvered about thanks to his tendency to create towering piles of junk
"That yoctogram will be the perfect tip of the scrap heap when I'm done factoring him."
Durth Vedar was busy trying to dispose of one of the numerous corpses that had been piling up (some people just couldn't shut their mouthes about asthma) when alarms rang out. A flustered Acolyte reluctantly entered the room, knowing the dangers of being the messenger of bad news.
"What is... Going... On?" The soldier couldn't see his face, but he knew Durth Vedar was giving him a piercing stare, just waiting to see if he cracked a joke about his speech impediment.
"Our reconnaissance squad has reported a large mass of hostiles approaching us. And, uh... Something about a ghost with a shoehorn..."
"Is that... A joke?"
"No, sir. The scout described it as an 'unforgettable sight,' and it's 'wails 'the exactly opposite of Dork Vedar-" His neck suddenly constricted to the approximate diameter of a straw from some unseen force. Vedar waved his hand and the corpse flew over to join the pile gathered by a large assortment of blenders.
At least if they were attacked, he could probably dismiss them as casualties of war to be burned with the rest. Probably.
---
Several teens loitered about the parking lot of a futuristic establishment. The manager, a rather short-tempered man whose business had fallen on hard times since Smooze moved in nearby, had rushed out to shoo them off. He never came back.
The Goth Metal Drake licked it's lips, savoring the taste of negative emotions. It could definitely taste the well prepared rage, with some depressed undertones to it. There was even the fresher emotion of fear, leaving a subtle aftertaste to its snack.
"This plan is ridiculous." A kid with orange hair defying physics, as per usual with Japanese culture, was casually leaning against a rhino and chatting to equally odd people. It's a good thing that people in Japan apparently speak English.
"Come on, Neku! It's a popular trend!" A girl with flamboyant hair and outlandish clothing that revealed more than appropriate (once more the norm in Japan) held a stuffed animal and urged the general of the mismatched army of men, monsters, and things there were somewhere in between to follow in a rich, albeit ridiculous, tradition.
"It's stupid. I don't follow trends, especially ones like this."
"But it's just a small detail that makes a difference."
"If this difference is to make a fool of myself, then you're right about that."
"Please?"
"Why can't you just have your pig do it? He doesn't have any bones to break."
"I've told you before, Mr. Mew is a cat! Not a pig! He's called Mr. Mew!"
"While I hate to interrupt such profound debate, I think it's about time we move into action. Old Pi-face is getting restless."
---
Durth Vedar wheezed as he made his way to their towering wall. More than one unfortunate soldier found himself in pain after mistaking him for an old man. Acolytes sprang into formation quickly and gathered at the gates, more eager to deal with the enemies in front rather than the short-tempered one who couldn't take a joke.
Two individual forces marched towards the diverse settlements of Smooze, each vastly different in terms of goals and strength. Black Hand Snipers were the first to arrive, stopping at a distance from the sprawling complex and taking out shining orbs.
Followers of Smooze preparing for battle kept a warily eye on them, debating on whether or not they posed a threat. They soon noticed a pattern developing.
••• • • •
• • • • • •
••• ••• •
• • • • •
••• • • ••• • • •••
•• • • • • • • ••
• • • •• • • •
••• • • ••• ••• ••• •••
Before they had time to process this cryptic design, their true foe arrived.
"Attention, all you tasteless tetrahedra! This equation is subtracting from my arts and crafts time. I can think of a decillion better things to be doing. So let's get the class underway and factor you hectopascals so I can add this garbage you call a headquarters to the heap!"
---
One follower considered himself rather lucky, having the privilege to man an Ion Cannon rather than be stationed on the ground where bloodshed would be soon to follow. No fighting for this guy. Just a nice, comfy view of-
He never had time to turn around when a sudden SO ZETTA SLOW blasted him off the spire the cannon was mounted on.
Sho Minamimoto materialized atop the defense, ready to scrap the irritating toy. Before any of the followers could figure out how to dispatch the hero without blowing up their own defense, he had pumped it full of spiraling energy rounds, rendering it useless. With a loud grating sound, he delivered a series of rapid kicks that crumpled the armor plating like tin foil and sent it hurtling towards the ground.
Before they could strike, Sho teleported again. He repeated the same process to several more cannons, gradually slower this time. By the fifth warp, his teleport barely got him to the central cannon.
The followers thought that they would finally be able to dish out damage to him now that he had expended some energy. They were wrong.
When he had appeared atop the central cannon, he was no longer in his fashionable attire. Rather, his clothing had been rags, frayed around the edges and whipping around his frame. Across his torso was a series of pitch black lines, forming a design of sorts. Clearing away this Ion Cannon quickly in his Taboo form, he lifted up his megaphone.
"You brain-dead polynomials are so zetta pathetic!" From his vantage point, his voice reverberated throughout the base and was deafening those who were smart enough to know the first to rush into battle never came back. Worshippers pressed their hands over their ears as his magnified voice recited mathematical terms.
Acolytes did nothing to help them, partially because screaming Medic! at them usually resulted in a vindictive healing, but mostly because they could do nothing about Minamimoto. There was also the fact that a large horde of shadowy forest animals was rapidly approaching.
They readied themselves against the Noise, who were rapidly approaching the gates thanks to Minamimoto taking out the cannons in their direction.
Rather than wait for the battle to come to the walls, the Acolytes striked first, opening the gates and rushing out to combat them.
But what they didn't count on was some of the animals being equally fast to them, hopped up on so many drugs they sometimes hallucinated and saw gingerbread men threaten to sue them for wanting dental.
Alterna Wolves led the initial charge as they got the whiff of fresh blood. Granted, it was a sort of gooey, drugged blood, but it held the same symbolic meaning to them nevertheless.
They bound towards the gates in a few swift leaps, reaching it well before the other units. Acolytes had just rushed out to initate the bloodshed, but were caught off guard by the wolves.
With their speed, swords and armor, they could easily dispatch a humanoid figure. But these ferocious animals posed a different problem. Barely coming up to their knees and fighting with tooth and claw, their Lightning Charge helped them to break through their ranks as they shot past them and set the ground aflame. They didn't target conventionally areas, either. Razor sharp teeth dug into their kneecaps and forced them to the ground, their head now exposed to vicious clawing. Some lucky survivors might have thought they looked cool and appeared as grizzled veterans if they weren't in such incredible pain.
Rather more humiliating and painful than the face-gorging was their natural tendency to clamp on wherever looked best... Which, unfortunately for the poor interns, was the crotch.
Painful howls of agony came from those who suffered a brutal castration as the wolves dug their dagger-like fangs right into their most prided on (or in most cases, ashamed of) points.
While the animals may have darted around before an Acolyte could manage to impale it and strike in their most tender spots, the Smooze force was nearly triple their size, not to mention the backup they had. Alterna Wolves were soon pushed back with the rest of the Noise.
---
Durth Vedar observed this tactic with annoyance, but was too preoccupied with the motion sickness of clinging to a speedy jet to care all that much.
"You need me to slow down so you can catch your breathe, gramps?" A hotshot new recruit was at the wheel, rather arrogant thanks to his quick ascension through the ranks. Vedar would need to craft an especially grueling punishment for him after this was over. For now he settled on making him smash his head against the glass through his powers.
But he soon spotted his desired target. A large assembly of tall beasts he couldn't quite make out from this distance were branching out from the main invasion force and rapidly approaching the walls, much to the alarm of the Apprentices and Mechanics. But through the colorless and indistinct gray hues of the Noise he spotted a shock of orange hair.
Gesturing towards the group to the disorientated and more subdued soldier, the Arwing began to descend from the sky.
Other Smooze ships dominated the skies, ready to bombard the enemy. Unfortunately, they weren't suited for this sort of task. While their lasers easily cut through whatever was unlucky enough to be in the way, strong as they were, they were more suited to destroying those with worse ships than hordes of monsters. There was simply too much Noise to make an impact on the advancing army. The Arwing's Smart Bombs were far more effective, but one ship could only do so much. (It's twin currently helping Vedar)
Seen only by Saboteurs making a mockery of Smooze, Un-Destroyers carried off the civilians who worked the factories tirelessly, making it all the more easy for them as they vandalized Smooze's image.
---
"I am not punching the wall." Not all generals appeared to have the same wall-punching tendencies of more reckless armies.
"We've got thousands of giant bears with huge claws. Why should I go hurt and humiliate myself because some rabbit started a fad?"
"I'm not trying to make you emo again! It's just something cool to do!" Fortunately the arrival of a hurtling object interrupted them. He gave the order to the Wall of Grizzlies to tear it down while Shiki was distracted.
Wall 'o Grizzlies had earned their name by the impressive figure they cut. At around eight feet tall and claws at least a foot long, nobody wanted to mess with these huge shadowy beasts. In unison they turned their heads skyward and let out a chorus of unearthly howls, rivaling that of the mad mathematician who was now descending the spire he wound up on. Many of the Apprentices cowered in fright. As the last echoes of their howl faded away, a sinister new glint had appear in the menacing shine of their claws.
By an unseen command, they all charged the walls together, a deadly whirlwind of claws ready to slice away at the steel. Despite the high quality metal, they left large gorges in the surface after scoring only a single blow. With furious motion they tore into the plating and pried away the Titansteel, causing many Mechanics to coincidentally remember that they had dentist appointments to attend to.
This fury of claws against the metal continued, making swift progress thanks to their immense strength. They paid no attention to the newcomer.
Durth Vedar eyed the teens, thinking it would be an easy fight. He raised his hand dramatically, thinking that this would probably be the closest he would get to avenging Fettman and Tenson despite them having nothing to do with it. It'd still make him feel better.
He was about to force choke the orange-haired one when he suddenly felt a sharp and intense pain at his side as a large rhino rammed him with the force of a train. The horn of the Trance Rhino punched right through his lung.
"YOUR FOUL BEASTS WON'T... Hey, I CAN ACTUALLY SPEAK-" The rhino halted and the Goth Metal Drake swung a spiked tail to scrap Vedar off his horn, without getting too much blood everywhere. He painstakingly got up.
"You... Shall... Suffer." A sinister red beam extended from a small bloodstained handle. In response he was hit by a bowl of old porridge from bystanders.
Nod civilians were spectators to this fight, determined to do all in their power to make their mark on their battle.
"Hey Vedar. Yo mama so fat, Kenobi said that's 'no moon, that's yo mama!'" The man high fived his neighboring civilian, setting off the C-4 strapped to themselves before Vedar could do anything to him.
While their leader was busy getting humiliated, the Grizzlies sent a large section of the wall tumbling. Mechanics who had tried to hold it together in vain ran off screaming as they gave off victorious howls. They ran right into Sho Minamimoto, who had expertly maneuvered about thanks to his tendency to create towering piles of junk
"That yoctogram will be the perfect tip of the scrap heap when I'm done factoring him."