Fist of Steel (I challenge/accept Wyborn's challenge!)
Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 3:19 am
That's right. Because for some reason my native RP is a bit slow (I blame the yearly September drought), I shall bring my full roleplaying energies to rest here--lest they just be wasted anyway.
-------
The silver man was at it again, this time casually walking through a destroyed space station. He'd been here many times--he always wanted to know what caused this devastation. The place was extremely high-tech, even for his standards. He walked up to a broken door and wrenched it open without a second thought. It flew behind him and clattered to the ground as he saw another treasure: a database computer.
These computers had been designed to house the knowledge of its owners. Now, years after its space station had died, an insane man activated it. An orange light streamed out of it, displaying a mind-bending amount of history. Technology, culture, even politics flashed by Metal Man's eyes. The cyborg cleverly recorded it with hsi visor, then promptly smashed the console.
He walked away, laughing. Inside his mind, where both binary bits and thoughts flew, he saw the summary of this. Long ago, this civilization had reached its apex. Great things were commonplace, and death itself had been banished. But among this great people there were rifts.
Some wore different clothes. Some embraced the old ways. Others became one with machines. These differences hadn't mattered, until they had obtained immortality; that caused a deeper investigation into differences. And with those investigations, came a hallmark of a far less evolved society: discrimination.
Long story short, they wiped one another out in an epic battle for all time. Metal Man found something else, however. He saw in that orange light the blueprints for a strange weapon: magic. But it was magic... generated by technology.
He altered his dimensional transporter to use this technology. Soon, he saw what the logs were talking about: threads, linking everything and everyone. He had the power to manipulate these threads. He did so, seeing that the current realm he was in was incredibly hostile to lifeforms such as himself. The Metal Man glowed a sickly, radioactive orange as reality bent around him. He began laughing, as this allowed him a further glimpse into reality... and thus sending him deeper into his own delusions.
Ahead was a gate of energy some other being created. It was round, disc-like, and rippling. It was so recent that he could taste the ether from its summoning.
The man stood before it, a full 6'4" of shiny Titanium armor. His eyes were crystal blue, bloodshot with orange. His tongue moved in anticipation as his facial muscles tightened. He had a rough face with a 6 o'clock shadow of gray hair. His pale pink lips were cracked like a giant iceberg, his gently sloping nose crooked and gnarled from being broken in the past. His eyebrows were two gray strips of rough hair, and his brow was furrowed like a bunched up carpet.
His wild gray hair hung around the edges of his face and atop his head. His right earlobe was missing. His teeth shined white. His hollow cheeks hung low on his skull, the outlines of which framed his face. He curled his right hand into a fist, the metal joints crackling.
The light of the binary sun outside the shattered space station window shined off of his reflective armor. Pieces of glass floated menacingly in the air. The twisted and burned hulks of the station's human owners layed around like a tea party gone horribly wrong. They wore torn orange jumpsuits, with imprecise yellow stitching.
The floor was a dented, buckling, corroded mess. There was air in this station, thanks to its advanced air pressurization system, but the gravity was too low. Only Metal Man's own inertial dampeners held him to the floor.
He drew no weapon. He stood and faced the portal with nothing but his armor, his hands, and the sickening, all-corrupting orange energy which radiated from himself. He crossed his arms as the portal began to open, speaking in a metallic grunt.
"At last, a real challenge."
Words were never truer to this man, who'd wrestled with abominations and battled unreality. He stood ready, hunched down in his combat stance, ready for Satan himself to walk out of the portal. The reality around his left hand distorted as he readied it for something no mortal should ever have to experience. An unearthly atonal shriek endlessly echoed from the strange energy he was using, one which echoed down the halls and caused the very teeth of those fallen men all around to shake.
The Metal Man stood aready, as the station declared a state of emergency from the detected usage of what was named 'Forbidden Soul Energy' in the area.
-------
The silver man was at it again, this time casually walking through a destroyed space station. He'd been here many times--he always wanted to know what caused this devastation. The place was extremely high-tech, even for his standards. He walked up to a broken door and wrenched it open without a second thought. It flew behind him and clattered to the ground as he saw another treasure: a database computer.
These computers had been designed to house the knowledge of its owners. Now, years after its space station had died, an insane man activated it. An orange light streamed out of it, displaying a mind-bending amount of history. Technology, culture, even politics flashed by Metal Man's eyes. The cyborg cleverly recorded it with hsi visor, then promptly smashed the console.
He walked away, laughing. Inside his mind, where both binary bits and thoughts flew, he saw the summary of this. Long ago, this civilization had reached its apex. Great things were commonplace, and death itself had been banished. But among this great people there were rifts.
Some wore different clothes. Some embraced the old ways. Others became one with machines. These differences hadn't mattered, until they had obtained immortality; that caused a deeper investigation into differences. And with those investigations, came a hallmark of a far less evolved society: discrimination.
Long story short, they wiped one another out in an epic battle for all time. Metal Man found something else, however. He saw in that orange light the blueprints for a strange weapon: magic. But it was magic... generated by technology.
He altered his dimensional transporter to use this technology. Soon, he saw what the logs were talking about: threads, linking everything and everyone. He had the power to manipulate these threads. He did so, seeing that the current realm he was in was incredibly hostile to lifeforms such as himself. The Metal Man glowed a sickly, radioactive orange as reality bent around him. He began laughing, as this allowed him a further glimpse into reality... and thus sending him deeper into his own delusions.
Ahead was a gate of energy some other being created. It was round, disc-like, and rippling. It was so recent that he could taste the ether from its summoning.
The man stood before it, a full 6'4" of shiny Titanium armor. His eyes were crystal blue, bloodshot with orange. His tongue moved in anticipation as his facial muscles tightened. He had a rough face with a 6 o'clock shadow of gray hair. His pale pink lips were cracked like a giant iceberg, his gently sloping nose crooked and gnarled from being broken in the past. His eyebrows were two gray strips of rough hair, and his brow was furrowed like a bunched up carpet.
His wild gray hair hung around the edges of his face and atop his head. His right earlobe was missing. His teeth shined white. His hollow cheeks hung low on his skull, the outlines of which framed his face. He curled his right hand into a fist, the metal joints crackling.
The light of the binary sun outside the shattered space station window shined off of his reflective armor. Pieces of glass floated menacingly in the air. The twisted and burned hulks of the station's human owners layed around like a tea party gone horribly wrong. They wore torn orange jumpsuits, with imprecise yellow stitching.
The floor was a dented, buckling, corroded mess. There was air in this station, thanks to its advanced air pressurization system, but the gravity was too low. Only Metal Man's own inertial dampeners held him to the floor.
He drew no weapon. He stood and faced the portal with nothing but his armor, his hands, and the sickening, all-corrupting orange energy which radiated from himself. He crossed his arms as the portal began to open, speaking in a metallic grunt.
"At last, a real challenge."
Words were never truer to this man, who'd wrestled with abominations and battled unreality. He stood ready, hunched down in his combat stance, ready for Satan himself to walk out of the portal. The reality around his left hand distorted as he readied it for something no mortal should ever have to experience. An unearthly atonal shriek endlessly echoed from the strange energy he was using, one which echoed down the halls and caused the very teeth of those fallen men all around to shake.
The Metal Man stood aready, as the station declared a state of emergency from the detected usage of what was named 'Forbidden Soul Energy' in the area.