Post by sineG yuG lareneG on Jun 21, 2012 23:53:43 GMT -5
Star Haven was unnaturally still as the end drew near for Second Chance. Many wondered whether they would even see the beginning of the end.
Of course, it wasn't really Star Haven. NOVA had been instructed to create a replica of the destroyed base to give a sense of security for the traumatized soldiers. General Guy had set up base in a mechanical castle where he believed his original army to have last taken up residence before the failed assault. It was at Infini T.'s advice, of course, but for his own intent of having his facilities so he could prepare himself for his journey.
Infini T.'s present laboratory shut down for it's first and final time, with no remaining Star Kids to use as a power source. The general had decided to set them free for all the service they had provided the army. What a waste.
The brilliant scientist put the finishing touch to his final project he would provide Second Chance. With some recently salvaged technology he created a robotic clone in his image, including a functional arm. Fortunately, tentacles were capable of moving independent of the main body, and so all he had to do was find some generous "donors" so that the copy would appear to have all his capabilities. It wouldn't take long for someone to notice it's despondent personality, but Infini T. was never one for friends, and doubted it would be subject to careful scrutiny by anyone who served Second Chance.
He was all set to depart from this place. There was little purpose in sticking around and waiting for death. Thanks to the time spent here he had accumulated a wide variety of engineering techniques and other useful gadgets from the myriad of different civilizations that held representation in General Guy's personal circle. The Wastelanders provided an easily produced but fairly sturdy riot-control unit to construct, Space Pirates had described to him their once great arsenal of weapons, even the Shy Guys had proved useful in their resourceful nature.
With all this information obtained, it was now likely he could restore his former facilities, perhaps even improve upon them. With a competent, educated congregation of scientists he would quickly revolutionize these lands. Really, what kind of royalty is so incompetent that they're abducted on a regular basis? He would need to see to it that a functional government was instated so that the kingdom would actually make progress in technology. But he made a mental note to never associate with revolutionists, after having spent quite enough time around Paradee.
---
Werman flew back and forth in his barren living quarters, attempting to calm himself. He was never one for material possession, but anything he still owned was packed away in an old box he had come across during his patrols of Mt. Rugged. A simple glance would tell those with decent comprehension skills (of which he thought to be an overwhelming lack of around these parts) that he intended to depart. But he was hesitant. The bat would abruptly stop berate himself for irrational fears, but would slowly return to his aerial pacing.
Many people assumed him to be fearless on account of his affinity for death. On the contrary, necromancy taught him just how much there is to be feared amid magical forces.
He rarely expressed anything that would indicate he had any emotions besides those associated with evildoing, but he knew that they could be the most dangerous weapons for an enemy to possess. In all those years he had spent as a toady to that wretched mole king he learned many things that perhaps Vulcan hadn't even realized himself, but the most obvious trait people recognized was his fiery hate land dwellers.
It was poorly placed hatred, as Werman often thought when he was forced to humor the king. He often wondered whether or not Vulcan realized he came from a long line of Swoopers living deep within the heart of Forever Forest. It wasn't difficult to imagine how passionate his hate was for traitors, and being a necromancer had taught him to never place faith on someone's death.
His weariness around the earth soon amounted to extreme paranoia, to the point where he only remained in Star Haven for the safety it provided. And now he faced the dilemma of going to the front lines of the bloodiest fight he would likely ever be in or return to the only place he knew, where it was likely overflowing with poison and full of monstrous creatures.
If only he had the Xaosologos still in full condition... It's pages had long been tore out by that accursed Paradee. Granted, he had been attempting to murder the Waddle Dee with it at the time, but that hardly justified ruining one of the most powerful artifacts he ever had the fortune to encounter. It still allowed for some useful powers on a more personal level, but nowhere to the degree he wished. Invisibility... It couldn't hurt to be even more illusive. Duplication... Useless, as he knew he would backstab himself given the chance. It retained it's property exchanging powers on a smaller scale, which required each individual object to make contact with the book before a property could be transferred, which made it more likely he'd died than kill.
"Hey Werman, the general is-" Werman gave a start and flung his book at the Shy Guy who approached him. Something snapped as the book collided with his head and the troop fell to the ground. After a few seconds Werman swiped up his book and fled to the other side of the tent, but the Shy Guy remained still.
He'd been lost in thought. This paranoia wasn't healthy for someone with such grand ambitions. Yes, he decided. There was no other choice but to return to Mt. Rugged and conquer this irrational fear. From there he could-
"YOU CANNOT COMPRE-" Werman struck out with the heavy tome again as the Shy Guy leaped up and started shouting. These crazy hoodlums... The general recently started teaching them his favorite trick of pretending to be dead and then declaring their tactics incomprehensible. He was correct if he meant their idiocy. Thank the stars that Subterranean Strike hadn't had such troops, with ridiculous names like "Rock Guys" or something-
No. He couldn't keep letting his mind wander like that. Rambling about old days was something one of the Wastelander's leaders was inclined to, and he was far from being a senile old man. Time to put things into action, before these masked children drove him any crazier.
---
Of course, it wasn't really Star Haven. NOVA had been instructed to create a replica of the destroyed base to give a sense of security for the traumatized soldiers. General Guy had set up base in a mechanical castle where he believed his original army to have last taken up residence before the failed assault. It was at Infini T.'s advice, of course, but for his own intent of having his facilities so he could prepare himself for his journey.
Infini T.'s present laboratory shut down for it's first and final time, with no remaining Star Kids to use as a power source. The general had decided to set them free for all the service they had provided the army. What a waste.
The brilliant scientist put the finishing touch to his final project he would provide Second Chance. With some recently salvaged technology he created a robotic clone in his image, including a functional arm. Fortunately, tentacles were capable of moving independent of the main body, and so all he had to do was find some generous "donors" so that the copy would appear to have all his capabilities. It wouldn't take long for someone to notice it's despondent personality, but Infini T. was never one for friends, and doubted it would be subject to careful scrutiny by anyone who served Second Chance.
He was all set to depart from this place. There was little purpose in sticking around and waiting for death. Thanks to the time spent here he had accumulated a wide variety of engineering techniques and other useful gadgets from the myriad of different civilizations that held representation in General Guy's personal circle. The Wastelanders provided an easily produced but fairly sturdy riot-control unit to construct, Space Pirates had described to him their once great arsenal of weapons, even the Shy Guys had proved useful in their resourceful nature.
With all this information obtained, it was now likely he could restore his former facilities, perhaps even improve upon them. With a competent, educated congregation of scientists he would quickly revolutionize these lands. Really, what kind of royalty is so incompetent that they're abducted on a regular basis? He would need to see to it that a functional government was instated so that the kingdom would actually make progress in technology. But he made a mental note to never associate with revolutionists, after having spent quite enough time around Paradee.
---
Werman flew back and forth in his barren living quarters, attempting to calm himself. He was never one for material possession, but anything he still owned was packed away in an old box he had come across during his patrols of Mt. Rugged. A simple glance would tell those with decent comprehension skills (of which he thought to be an overwhelming lack of around these parts) that he intended to depart. But he was hesitant. The bat would abruptly stop berate himself for irrational fears, but would slowly return to his aerial pacing.
Many people assumed him to be fearless on account of his affinity for death. On the contrary, necromancy taught him just how much there is to be feared amid magical forces.
He rarely expressed anything that would indicate he had any emotions besides those associated with evildoing, but he knew that they could be the most dangerous weapons for an enemy to possess. In all those years he had spent as a toady to that wretched mole king he learned many things that perhaps Vulcan hadn't even realized himself, but the most obvious trait people recognized was his fiery hate land dwellers.
It was poorly placed hatred, as Werman often thought when he was forced to humor the king. He often wondered whether or not Vulcan realized he came from a long line of Swoopers living deep within the heart of Forever Forest. It wasn't difficult to imagine how passionate his hate was for traitors, and being a necromancer had taught him to never place faith on someone's death.
His weariness around the earth soon amounted to extreme paranoia, to the point where he only remained in Star Haven for the safety it provided. And now he faced the dilemma of going to the front lines of the bloodiest fight he would likely ever be in or return to the only place he knew, where it was likely overflowing with poison and full of monstrous creatures.
If only he had the Xaosologos still in full condition... It's pages had long been tore out by that accursed Paradee. Granted, he had been attempting to murder the Waddle Dee with it at the time, but that hardly justified ruining one of the most powerful artifacts he ever had the fortune to encounter. It still allowed for some useful powers on a more personal level, but nowhere to the degree he wished. Invisibility... It couldn't hurt to be even more illusive. Duplication... Useless, as he knew he would backstab himself given the chance. It retained it's property exchanging powers on a smaller scale, which required each individual object to make contact with the book before a property could be transferred, which made it more likely he'd died than kill.
"Hey Werman, the general is-" Werman gave a start and flung his book at the Shy Guy who approached him. Something snapped as the book collided with his head and the troop fell to the ground. After a few seconds Werman swiped up his book and fled to the other side of the tent, but the Shy Guy remained still.
He'd been lost in thought. This paranoia wasn't healthy for someone with such grand ambitions. Yes, he decided. There was no other choice but to return to Mt. Rugged and conquer this irrational fear. From there he could-
"YOU CANNOT COMPRE-" Werman struck out with the heavy tome again as the Shy Guy leaped up and started shouting. These crazy hoodlums... The general recently started teaching them his favorite trick of pretending to be dead and then declaring their tactics incomprehensible. He was correct if he meant their idiocy. Thank the stars that Subterranean Strike hadn't had such troops, with ridiculous names like "Rock Guys" or something-
No. He couldn't keep letting his mind wander like that. Rambling about old days was something one of the Wastelander's leaders was inclined to, and he was far from being a senile old man. Time to put things into action, before these masked children drove him any crazier.
---