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Prolific Writer
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 493
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Here's a slightly strange fight writey thing
Too tame? Too many long sentences? Does it flow? Is it fun to read? Erotic? Read it, tell me what you think. This is a part from the chapter, The Falcon and the Dragon
synopsis: This is a fight scene between 4 guys and 2 robots. The robots at first are pretty weak, but after being taken over by a sentient force, they suddenly get far more aggressive.
a note: The setting is in a field in the middle of a cloudy, rainy night (this was established beforehand, though I acknowledge that I have not written about it in this part, which is... bad.)
The anatagonists in this scene have just arrived on a snake-like dragon. The Harvester is in charge and the cult members are grunts in the FOG hierarchy; they are dead bodies possessed by gas-like creatures called Ivel Incaratne. The robots are just robots.
I also seem to have completley forgotten about the cat and the dog :S suppose I'll just being em in later and have them hiding for now.
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Two of the figures walking towards them were not people, but machines. They walked crudely, their elbows and knees bending exaggeratedly, their progress slow. The limbs were skinny, but the metal looked tough. They had no heads, and their torsos were made up of many whirring, clockwork gears.
Two of the other riders were FOG members. The bodies were so far into their decomposition that they were almost skeletons, with only threads of skin hanging off their crusty bones. They held remotes; it was they who were controlling the robots movements.
The alpha rider moved faster than all of them. He wore a hooded, black cloak, and he walked with a stick that had a living snake’s head snapping and snarling furiously. As he strode, the group shuffled back - it was like being haunted by the grim reaper.
“I am The Harvester,” he rasped.
Everyone’s heart was pounding and each could feel the fear exuding from the other - though there was no such vibe from Miles.
“You will fight the machines. Should you survive them, I leave you to the hunger of the Abaddon Noir. It begins.” He looked back. “Finish them.”
The two FOG recruits fiddled with the remotes. They pressed buttons and pushed down on control sticks, and the machines moved forwards in that same, exaggerated manner.
Lazarus looked at Pisces, who looked at Miles, who looked at Sir Snout.
Pisces took a bottle of beer from out of his jacket pocket, gripped the cap with his teeth and ripped it off. He took a swig so great the entire bottle emptied, then wiped the trickling liquid from his chin and ran towards the machines.
The rest charged after him, determined that if they were to go out, they’d go out with a fight.
As Pisces neared one, he jumped forward through the air as if launched from a cannon, swung his leg round and delivered a magnificent kick to it’s clockwork torso. The aim was precise, and the gears shattered and broke apart. The machine collapsed to the ground instantly in a crumpled mess of metal debris.
Faux Pas executed the bizarre move of jamming his hand through the other robot’s torso, jamming the gears. The machine faltered slightly before halting completely, it’s arms and legs positioned at odd angles due to it’s forced freeze.
Miles and Lazarus were each standing in front of the two skeletal cult members, both of whom did not even seem to notice the two people in front of them. Simultaneously, Miles and Lazarus punched them in the skull. The skulls splintered then shattered, with all different-coloured liquid spitting and trickling out. Both Miles and Lazarus let out groans of disgust, and shook their stained hands. The skulls dropped to the ground, each with two large holes in place of a face, in which a pulsating, almost liquidised brain could be seen inside. Lazarus gagged.
“Well, that wasn’t very impressive,” said Pisces gruffly.
The Harvester gave a ghostly laugh.
“I brought our most decomposed members so that they might obtain a new body to possess. Your battle against our heavenly machines has yet to begin.”
From out of the pulsating brains erupted fountains of iridescent smoke. They withstood the torrential rain and roaring wind, and each hummed a haunting nocturne that chilled them all more successfully than the rain. The Ivel Incaratnes drifted towards the defeated machines and passed into them.
The one on the ground shuddered, then stood up with alarming speed. All the gears had repaired themselves and now whirred furiously, screaming like a chainsaw. The standing machine once possessed immediately sprang back into usefulness, its gears spinning as speedily as the other machine’s, each gear resembling a livid, miniature buzz saw.
The robots hurled themselves at it’s victims, their metal exteriors so tough that the wind was knocked out of them all.
Faux Pas was the first to react, and he caused one robot to fall when he swiped his leg just above the ground and brought it into the robot’s legs. As it lay momentarily defenceless on the ground, he took his opportunity and jammed his hand into the gears like he did before. He had brought it back out within a few seconds (his brain receptors were rather slow), his scream similar to the sound of the spinning gears. His shredded hand was wrapped in tangles of his own bloody skin and he retreated to the ground, whimpering and cradling his injury.
Pisces seemed in an even more pitiable state. He was trapped underneath the heavy body of the other robot, who had him pinned to the ground, one of its arms holding both of his back with no trouble at all, as it’s other arm clenched its thick, metal fist, rose it up and slammed it into his tenderising face again and again. Cheek bones were breaking and muscles were getting pulverised as it relentlessly smashed his face again and again, never tiring, looking unstoppable.
Miles and Lazarus jumped on the robot, both of them gripping its punching arm and desperately trying to pull it back. It was a slow process, but eventually, the machine was hitting only air. The robot, giving up this thrashing, released Pisces’s wrists and now used it’s hand to pick up his entire body. It then threw him at Miles and Lazarus like a projectile. Pisces was unconscious and Miles and Lazarus collided into the other machine, which was just about to press its shrieking torso into Faux Pas’s neck.
Lazarus and Miles scrambled back up and rushed over to the robot still standing and eac grabbed an arm and began pulling. A low groan came from its sockets as the robot stood in place and Miles and Lazarus moved backwards, each pulling an arm with all of their might. There was a loud crang, and both arms were pulled apart at the same moment and both Miles and Lazarus fell to the ground, each holding a dismembered arm. They both raised it like a weapon.
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Unfinished. To be updated!
Last edited by HippoHead : 07-10-2008 at 09:50 AM.
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