buildingproblem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
buildingproblem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itsjustagamerp2012-01-24 06:51 pm
buildingproblem) wrote in itsjustagamerp2012-01-24 06:51 pm
Entry tags:
When All You Have Is a Hammer
Characters: Harry, Hughes, Aqua, Xion, others
Content: Harry's been shot and his duplicate is making a break for life support. Time to settle things, wild west style.
Time: Late in the double's week
Warnings: Violence towards Harry Dresden. ALL OF THEM.
That was the problem with inheriting the original's knowledge of dramatic convention, he knew damn well that he had no future. Oh certainly there was the fact that he lacked the innate inhibitions and concerns of his progenitor, but truth be told that wasn't what had driven him to do what he did. After all, he had inherited a certain tendency to defy convention and buck tradition, but he'd also known from the very moment that he had been created that he was just an obstacle, a one note joke to be overcome and dispatched before the real characters moved on with their storyline. He would serve his purpose, then be discarded with all the bit players and one issue side characters to the waist bin of creative endeavors. Essentially, he was the Lockjaw of the Continuing Adventures of the Satellite of Love.
Really, how could he not want to kill everything after that?
Although, truth be told, the goal was not to kill them, but to kill their story. The whole purpose of this place was to get laughs, to make things funny, and the surest way to kill a comedy was to turn it into a utterly depressing train wreck just at the end. He would turn this story into the Gigli of fictional reviews or die trying. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.
Trying too hard to derail the narrative would, however, likely result in a backlash against him, which was why he'd managed to secure a few tools of comedy to further his scheme. Luckily, he had found just the tools he needed upon discovering some old footage of the 'Legend of Dinosaurs' Riff. Truly, it was fitting that Joel Robinson was the architect of their DOOM.
And so it was that he had spent the time while his fellow Shades were causing endless distractions to seek out every shrew, cricket, ant, iguana, crab, preying mantis, and Allison Hayes's impersonator he could find on the ship, and gathered them in the long corridor leading up to the life support room, which he had also filled with a miniature cardboard mock up of New Yokyodon, containing the greatest landmarks of those cities. Apparently his originator's time spent on building Little Chicago had come in handy. When the inhabitants of the Satellite charged in, they would find themselves caught in his trap.
Though, that was really only stage 1.
Content: Harry's been shot and his duplicate is making a break for life support. Time to settle things, wild west style.
Time: Late in the double's week
Warnings: Violence towards Harry Dresden. ALL OF THEM.
That was the problem with inheriting the original's knowledge of dramatic convention, he knew damn well that he had no future. Oh certainly there was the fact that he lacked the innate inhibitions and concerns of his progenitor, but truth be told that wasn't what had driven him to do what he did. After all, he had inherited a certain tendency to defy convention and buck tradition, but he'd also known from the very moment that he had been created that he was just an obstacle, a one note joke to be overcome and dispatched before the real characters moved on with their storyline. He would serve his purpose, then be discarded with all the bit players and one issue side characters to the waist bin of creative endeavors. Essentially, he was the Lockjaw of the Continuing Adventures of the Satellite of Love.
Really, how could he not want to kill everything after that?
Although, truth be told, the goal was not to kill them, but to kill their story. The whole purpose of this place was to get laughs, to make things funny, and the surest way to kill a comedy was to turn it into a utterly depressing train wreck just at the end. He would turn this story into the Gigli of fictional reviews or die trying. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.
Trying too hard to derail the narrative would, however, likely result in a backlash against him, which was why he'd managed to secure a few tools of comedy to further his scheme. Luckily, he had found just the tools he needed upon discovering some old footage of the 'Legend of Dinosaurs' Riff. Truly, it was fitting that Joel Robinson was the architect of their DOOM.
And so it was that he had spent the time while his fellow Shades were causing endless distractions to seek out every shrew, cricket, ant, iguana, crab, preying mantis, and Allison Hayes's impersonator he could find on the ship, and gathered them in the long corridor leading up to the life support room, which he had also filled with a miniature cardboard mock up of New Yokyodon, containing the greatest landmarks of those cities. Apparently his originator's time spent on building Little Chicago had come in handy. When the inhabitants of the Satellite charged in, they would find themselves caught in his trap.
Though, that was really only stage 1.
no subject
Not, of course, that wishing for what none of them was likely to have was going to be anything near helpful, as much as Aqua would have liked to have her spells to deal with the ants that are swarming nearer than comfort would before. With that option unavailable, she turned the next best thing, leaping onto the head of the first ant to draw near. From there, it was simple enough to pretend the others were nothing so much as over-sized stepping stones on her way to reaching the shade.
no subject
She knew better than to think she could handle all of the monsters by herself. What she could do was draw their attention enough to give the others time to take care of the shade.
no subject
Well, it did after he managed to get away from the giant Mantid trying its best to eat him. After dealing with that minor setback by
accidentallyluring it within range of a massive spider though, he had a bit of breathing room to assess the mess they were in. Hughes and the girls were all clearly extremely skilled and competent close range fighters, and Harry had a few surprises of his own, but there were just too many creepy crawlies slowing them down. It didn't matter if they beat every single thing the shade threw at them if it ended up stalling them long enough for the shade to complete his plans. The others were busy keeping them from getting eaten, he needed to think of something, to pull his weight. After all, it was his shade that had gotten them into this mess in the first place, that might of doomed them all, he owed it to the people he'd put in harms way to fix the damage he'd caused.Then his eyes fell on it, a singular beautiful opportunity to not only save the lives of everyone on the Satellite that breathed air, but also live out the dream of adolescent boys everywhere.
A remote control Monster Truck.
Kneeling behind a Playmobile lamp post, he fished a can of hairspray from one coat pocket, and a lighter from the other as he worked the angles of what he was about to do. Running, hell standing was going to hurt a lot, but he was pretty sure he could make it. In his line of work 'pretty sure' was just about as close to perfect as he got. Mind made up, he started counting to three.
On two he pushed himself up with a strangled sound of air escaping between clenched teeth and hit the ground running. "Truck! Get to the truck!"
A wasp came in from the side, swooping down like a madman's version of a hawk from hell as it swung its thorax out towards him to aim the massive hypodermic needle it called a butt straight for his chest. Without missing a step he twisted to the side and lifted his makeshift flamethrower, unleashing a stream of fire with a defiant, "Buzz off!"
The insect was spared the agony of Harry's pun when it flew right into the flames, it's wings catching alight almost instantly as it veered off course and hit the cardboard building across the street, smashing through the wall and inside as its limbs spasmed wildly. Its burning limbs. Which rubbed against the very dry cardboard.
Uh oh.
"Truck now! Faster!"
no subject
Maes saw it a second later. Well, that was convenient. Unfortunately, Maes had two problems with this plan. One, he was still dealing with a spider the size of a tank and two, Xion was the rear guard and that didn't sit well with him. Especially since there were several, several bugs, lizards, and other animals between Xion and the truck.
Thankfully, the Shade had failed to consider that he had unleashed a veritable food chain here. A frog suddenly loomed behind Maes and ate the spider as Maes jumped back and stumbled against a large atlas beetle that was rolling a Hot Wheels car.
Well, perhaps he had found his solution after all to his second problem. Maes grit his teeth, this probably wasn't going to be easy. A country boy at heart, he'd had some experience with horses in the past. He pulled himself up onto the back of the beetle, grabbing it's horn as he hoisted himself up. Unfortunately the beetle was nothing like a horse...at all. Still, it didn't seem to be as concerned with eating him like the other bugs. Hughes kept his grip on the horn and directed it towards Xion, "Ya!"
As the cityscape burned around him (jeeze, Harry, what did you do) Hughes urged the beetle towards Xion's location. He wasn't going to leave her behind or Aqua for that matter. The beetle moved with incredible speed and plowed through several bugs, clearing a path for Xion. Hughes called to the girls, "Come on! I'll get us to that truck."