The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 6: Tidal Cove]

The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 6: Tidal Cove]
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Name: The Countess, though her real name is Paige.

Gender: Uh... sadistic psychobitch. So female, I guess.

Race: Clockwork Amalgam.

Text Colour: #808080 (smack bang in the middle of the pallete.)

Biography: May as well refrain from stepping around the issue, The Countess is going to be the chaos-sowing, anarchy-inducing inside man for this battle; though the characters won't know that. A loyal servant of the Controller; she joined this battle voluntarily, simply because he asked her to. Despite the organic nature of her form, her origins are uncertain and it's hard to tell whether she's a creation of magic, mad science, or some kind of seriously messed up natural selection in an alternate universe.

Description: The Countess is primarily composed of an off-white putty, which possesses two curious properties: Firstly, any foreign object embedded in it will slowly be consumed and converted to the same substance; and secondly, upon exposure to air it will coalesce into an elegant series of cogs and gears and pistons and springs. Where necessary, she can also form transparent, glassy spot armour, though it restricts her movement at the joint. She's capable of a little morphing, but prefers to take the form of an unnaturally segmented, slender-limbed humanoid with an unhingeable jaw full of pin-like teeth. She has a weirdly long, cable-like neck offering her 270-degrees rotation (both ways) and trailing arms with three surgical-precision, four-segmented fingers and two thumbs on each hand. From the waist down, human legs have been replaced with eight dexterous, dagger-like spiders' legs, normally bent at the 'knee' so The Countess is hunkering in the middle of the ring they form.
(In essence, a human torso on the legs of a giant mecha-tarantula.)
In terms of personality, she's not too bright, but what intelligence she has she dedicates to knowing how to manipulate people, earn their trust and subsequently break it, deceive them, jerk about their heartstrings, that kind of thing. The Countess is sadistic and cunning, and would be quite happy torturing someone before killing them if the alternative was letting them escape and ruin her front. Despite her skill in this department, The Countess fails to realise in turn that she's being manipulated by the Controller.

Items/Abilities: The Countess has both legs and fingers that could stab a human as well as pierce stone (good for climbing), sharp teeth, and a body that can reform. She will also be keeping in touch with the controller, thanks to a receiver synthesized somewhere in her.

(gotta head off now, may edit this later.)
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

Nine golden rings, set into the flat, steel floor of the Controller's domain, formed an arc describing a third of a circle. In the centre of that circle, the Controller sat, reclining in his seat and surrounded by monitors, fingers steepled.

He stared, examining the nine beings in the rings closely. One attempted to move outside their ring and hit the shield. The Controller grinned as it screamed out in pain- the field was set to its lowest setting. He couldn't wait to see their reactions to higher ones.

After a few more moments of confusion and disorientation, the Controller spoke.


His voice was slow, lingering on the word, tasting its meaning.


The words weren't just spoken verbally- they reverberated along telepathic channels as well, carrying with them context, meaning, and history. They rolled over the contestants in waves, filling their minds.

"The wanton slaughter of a large number of beings indiscriminately and cruelly."

The Controller leaned forward, the views on the screens reflecting off of his glasses and being projected to hang in the air. Scenes of war, violence, death, and destruction flashed in front of the nine beings in gruesome detail.

"Welcome to yours."

After a few moments, he leaned back, the images vanishing. His voice took a more businesslike quality; the tone of one who understands the necessity and just wants to be done.

"You may call me the Controller. I have brought you here to die. All but one of you will be killed by the hands of the others you see here. You will be placed in an arena of sorts, and when one of you has died, the rest will move on to another one. This will continue until only one of you is left alive. As a reward, that person will be returned home. There are nine of you, which means there will be eight arenas to visit. The lucky ones will see far fewer."

"Before you kill each other, though, I think introductions are in order. If you are going to be killing someone, it's at least polite to know their name."

The ring farthest to the Controller's left lit up, illuminating a being of gears and cogs. "First, this is the Countess. Despite her elegant construction, she's got serious strength, and if damaged, she will simply dissolve into putty and reform whole."

The next ring lit up, indicating the werewolf enclosed in the field. "This is Pluck, a werewolf with the unusual ability to take things from others' minds and make them a reality. He survived five years on the run from the mafia, but I don't know if he would have made it much longer."

"Next we have Holly Tallbirch. This buxom lady calls herself a pathomancer. What that boils down to is an ability to convert emotions to materials and vice-versa; she's also a dab hand with that whip of hers."

"This here is an interesting specimen- a colony of Ouroborites (know collectively as Ouroborous) that are constantly eating each other and reproducing in an endless cycle of death. They ravaged their homeworld with their assortment of natural weapons, dissolving some people and just eating others. A truly fascinating species."

"At the moment, this is Lucas Maxl, who has been driven quite insane by the four demons that occupy his body. Wrath, Envy, Greed, and Lust are all embodiments of the sins they are named after, and they all possess the ability to inspire their respective emotions in others."

"Thane, at one point, was human. Unfortunately, a twisted desire to prove himself led him to summon Yt'hroloth, a Great Old One. Bargaining with a being like that is, of course, an absurd concept, and Thane was taken as a vessel, corrupted and forced to commit some truly impressive atrocities, just riding along as a spectator in his own body."

"Next is Sir Arnold Scarlet, an immortal knight. In the modern world, he worked as a police officer, keeping the peace and fighting for the good of all. His principles are strong, and he's got the skills and weaponry to back them up."

"Acacia Skammer had the best of intentions when she became a part of the Last Sanctum, but, as they say, 'absolute power corrupts absolutely.' That collar on her neck is called a 'boomer,' and it's quite the sonic weapon. To use it, she was deafened, so she can't hear anything."

"And finally, we have Algernon. That worm on his head isn't just for show- For the low, low cost of a few memories, it can create anything he wants. Of course, when memories are all you have, they come to be rather precious. I wonder what it'll take to make it worthwhile?"

The Controller shifted his posture a bit, and the enthusiasm began to return to his voice. "Now that that's done, let us begin."

The plane around them began to blur, fading into a new scene. The nine beings found themselves alone, scattered around what appeared to be a school.

The PA system buzzed, and the Controller's voice echoed throughout the building. "Welcome to Focal High School. Due to inclement weather, we have the whole building to ourselves. Feel free to roam the halls, but don't bother trying to leave- the weather out there is bad, and the forecast only calls for more of the same."

The PA clicked off, leaving the beings alone and isolated. The school was silent aside from the ticking clocks, driving wind and rain, and occasional clap of thunder.

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

What what RESERVED!
Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

Wait what, Schazer, I already picked #BF8040 for Lust. I mean since I'm to write in bold it'll be pretty to differentiate, but I don't know if it'll work out if those two characters ever start to interact.
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

Pluck wasn't sure whether he wanted to kill The Controller, or thank him, and then kill him.
On one hand, he could very well be killed here, but on the other, he probably would have been killed if he hadn't been 'rescued.'
Deciding he would have plenty of time to figure that out later, he examined his surroundings. Presently, he was in what appeared to be a classroom, minus desks, with an electronic blackboard up front next to a mechanical device.
"High-tech for a school. Hey, I wonder if I could mess with this thing."
Pluck immediately got underneath the machine and started fiddling around with the exposed wires, in hopes of making something happen. He seemed to have succeeded, as the blackboard lit up.


Now he was getting somewhere. "Hm... run program?"
The machine started whirring and lights turned on on it.

"I'm Pluck. I'm not a stu-"
"I guess so."
Mr. M385 powered down it's systems, leaving Pluck to stand there staring for a few moments.
"I suppose it's no harm in doing what it asks."
Pluck set out from the classroom to look for the other 'students' in a curious attempt to see what this supposed teacher had to teach.

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

The Countess couldn't avoid smirking through a fair chunk of the Controller's introduction (the teeth merely exacerbated the problem), but stopping herself from looking on at the man with the admiration she felt - that had been much harder. It was somewhat of a relief for the Countess when she was whisked to an empty classroom, curiously devoid of desks and illuminated surprisingly regularly with a nigh-concordant flash and sky-wrenching groan of lightning and thunder respectively.

Other than the frenzied howling outside, the only sounds came from a ventilation shaft near the ceiling, the persistent whirr and click that replaced heartbeat and breath in the Countess, and a dull, on-and-off squeak from the room's darker corner, tucked in by the window. Curious, the Controller's agent advanced on the chirping, the fingers on one nightmarish hand extended. Deep in the nest of inhumanly jointed digits, a few gears parted and shifted to accommodate a tiny lens. More imperceptible ticks, and the freshly synthesised eye was locked in, and cogs began to drag the source of the noise into focus.

A hamster, mistaking the stormy day for night, had emerged and was busying itself on its treadmill. Again, it leapt off and scampered to the water bottle, its circuit broken as it blinked curiously up at the mechanical claw reaching out at it. The fingers snapped shut, hiding the palm-eye, and lowered into the glass tank to extract the mammal, which rested like a pudgy ball on the Countess' pointed fingertips, stomach turned upward. Another flash of lightning, and the amalgam raised its other hand to poke the creature gently. It twitched, blinked, and wriggled its nose as the Countess' grip tightened with a grin, spearing the hamster four times over.

The fingers sprang apart, scraps of meat flying. The Countess grinned, her ratchety snigger clicking outward from somewhere deep within as she plucked the remnant shreds off her fingers and carelessly flicked them away. Something in her forearm thrummed, and a disdainful, yet recognisably amused voice entered the creature's mind.

You have a job to do. Now stop getting distracted.

With a mechanical giggle, the Countess opened a window a crack and winced as the torrential rain pummeled her bloodstained claws. Snapping the window shut, she noted with some regret the metal tips had bent and buckled with only their slight exposure. Flicking off the excess water which pooled in the fresh dents, the Countess slipped through the classroom door and shut it behind her.
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Thane, or at least the part of the Old One that had long ago become to identify himself as Thane, found himself in a horribly familiar location. In the entire world there is only one thing that an Old One could truly be described to hate; and that is nothingness. The pitch black emptyness that surrounds the universe, where the Old Ones wait until they are brought back into the world. For a long moment Thane believes himself to have been exiled back out of the universe, to wait the milennia until some poor fool summons him back in. But in the distance he can hear the steady drip of water, a cold breeze blowing through an open cavern. He regards this area critically, eventually his eyes alight on a small speck of light in the distance, and he makes his way there.

As Thane approaches he can see it is a large grey room, one wall is covered with a line of bookshelves, crammed full with thick textbooks, mounted on the wall above are various historical artefacts; paintings, weapons, jewels and treasures, a veritable horde plucked from time. He steps through the rune covered archway into what he assumes to be the history classroom, although why any classroom needs an archway into seemingly endless pitch black caves was a mystery to him. Above him he could feel the minds of the insects he had been brought here to destroy. This 'massacre' was nothing more than an inconvenience. A strange distraction that would delay the conquering of his world. It was to be finished as swiftly as possible and then forgotten. He had waited millennia for someone to summon him back into the world, in comparison this was barely worth consideration.

fyck phytybyckyt
Originally posted on MSPA by Godbot.

They could not understand speech, but there was a vague glimmer of understanding in thousands of simple nerve clusters that they were involved in some sort of fight fight for survival kill survive kill and eat, kill then eat or just skip killing too inefficient and skip straight to eat for energy, fuel, sustenance, locate prey

In response, thousands of Ouroborites twisted and squirmed over each other, their beady, alert little eyes and twitching antennae scanning for anything edible (and preferably moving.) The idea of a fight was long-since out of their heads. The alluring, magnetic scent of sweat and blood filled every corner of the room, and yet there was nothing in all directions, just smooth, polished hardwood floor. Colored stripes along the floor stretching off into the distance. Walls padded with dark blue mats, and a ceiling, humming circular lights, too far away to make a difference. Just wide-open space, which was so frustrating. So many scents, so much prey, but where was it all hiding?

Catching sight of the reflection of an overhead light on the floor, one Ouroborite buzzed its flimsy wings and vaulted off of the twisting mountain of insects, traveling about four feet before flopping pathetically to the ground. It wriggled onto its belly and skittered along for a few inches before seven Ouroborites simultaneously closed the distance between Ouroborous and the outlier, clamping mandibles onto the easy prey and eagerly tearing it to shreds, leaving a purplish splatter, some tough, broken carapace, and plumes of thin red pheromone gas that quickly made its way to the other Ouroborites, who quickly followed suit, crawling and hurling themselves onto the former predators. Hooked claws and mandibles became tangled with each other. Legs and antennae chafed against smooth, black stripes, making a chirping screech that echoed hideously around the gymnasium. As Ouroborous's weight shifted over, the floor creaked and buckled. Floorboards gave way and split open, nails gave way and floorboards snapped up. A few Ouroborites had the idea to try and eat the floorboards, but they recoiled at the taste of dust, dirt and polish. There were only traces of the scent of blood scent of SWEAT in every direction, concentric circles lines reaching out, thousands of prey every direction converging on one point, point straight ahead except for the wall, old and new scents of kill survive prey hiding all at once

Ouroborous lurched eagerly, collapsing back on itself as the teeming mass of Ouroborites struggled frantically to untangle itself. A few insects freed themselves and skittered along the floor. A few dived onto the ones in front, but most followed suit and buzzed or crawled along the floor and over each other, single-mindedly advancing along thousands of old scent trails towards the boys' locker room.

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

So somehow he found himself in a fight to the death run by a possibly insane entity and his opponents all seemed either very violent or insane or happened to be a swarm of bugs. He probably would have been the only normal one if it weren't for this parasite on his head (though really their relationship was more accurately described as 'mutual'). After getting over the initial nausea of trans-dimensional travel, Algernon sighed wearily, as though this development in his life was really just an inconvenience, and started looking around the room he was in. He had been transported in a supplies cabinet. A little crowded. But at least a light was on.

Welp, it seemed that it wasn't likely he would be able to refrain from fighting. The Lucas guy seemed especially dangerous, what with the personality altering thing and all. So he might as well pick up some stuff here for preparation...though he wasn't sure how many of these things could help.

As Algernon rummaged through boxes, finding chalk and markers and other such items, he tried to think back to the other contestants he was supposed to fight. The Ouroborous thing was definitely something to avoid. As well as the Lucas guy and Thane, though he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The Countess looked very dangerous but he couldn't say anything more than that. He couldn't help but be superficial, though and it was better safe than sorry besides. Avoid. Acacia was apparently corrupt, so perhaps another one to avoid. Pluck, werewolf, could be approachable. He was a little apprehensive of Holly and her whip, but apparently she could create items out of practically nothing like him. Could be approachable? And then there was Sir Arnold, who was the only one that was defined as Lawful Good. Algernon was sure he should definitely try to team up with him.

He paused for a moment, holding a fluorescent light and an eraser. So at the most, a team of four including him. (Of course, this was all based on the Controller being truthful.) And after forming the team, they could attempt to escape, a plan he was rather pessimistic about, or kill off everybody else, a plan he'd rather not follow. He had fought before. It was sometimes necessary. But he had never killed...but even if he did manage to survive throughout the rounds without even harming anybody, he would end up having to fight someone else one-on-one. And somehow he had a depressing feeling he wouldn't last all the way. Couldn't the Controller wait until he had found his sister? Although...wouldn't it have been worse if he had achieved his goal only to be whisked away into this sick game?

Whatever. No time to philosophize. That would just be stupid in this situation. First, get some allies. Stuffing his pockets with some pencils and paper towels, (hey, you never know) Algernon set the long light over his shoulder and walked out the closet.

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

Holly looked around the room she'd been deposited in. This had all happened far too quickly for her tastes-- she hadn't been able to get a good read on which of the others would be easiest to exploit. She stood up and dusted herself off, deciding that she'd simply have to play it by ear.

Looking around, she saw seemingly endless expanses of shelves crammed with books upon books. She noticed that the shelf she was nearest to was labeled "PHILOSOPHY" and a grin slowly adorned her face. She picked one of the books out at random, a gray volume entitled Principles of Philosophy and evidently authored by one Rene Descartes. She skimmed through it, nodding, and placed it in her backpack. She rummaged through the remaining books in much the same manner: Freud seemed interesting, and this fellow named Nietzche would certainly be useful, and what's this over here? Eventually, she passed from the philosophy section, picking up any book she thought would carry sufficient psychological weight; soon enough she had placed a few dozen books in her pack, and she shifted slightly under the weight.

She proceeded to wander towards the entrance, which was rather difficult considering the maze of bookshelves she had to work her way through, and took stock of her surroundings on the way. The ceiling was rather high, and she could distinguish at least two floors above this one, all of them uninhabited. Occasionally, she would pass a painting, probably on loan from an art class as it lay on the spectrum of quality that can only be achieved by a trainee. Eventually, she worked her way to a large desk next to the exit. Naturally, no librarian was present, but a large sign was posted to the desk:


Holly glanced to the side. Several odd gates stood in her way, each with a large sparking coil at the top. She briefly considered transmuting the gates, but since she had no targets she'd have to absorb all the product, which would likely be a very bad idea. She sighed and hopped behind the desk, attempting to figure out how to work the bizarre machines the librarians used to check books out.[/color]
Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.


The buzzing in her skull reminded Acacia of the time she'd walked in on the General's experiments, but this time it just fizzled out into words at some point. Except they weren't just words, they were a thousand times rarer, so much so that she'd not experienced it since before the apocalypse came. She was hearing this, this Controller person.

At the mention of killing, she'd experienced the dizzying thrill that had accompanied so many screams of others, but that faded quickly, stuffed down to the darker levels of her mind that she swore didn't exist. She was part of The Last Sanctum, an elite group of humane and logical scientists. Not a band of murderers and sadists.

Acacia Skammer opened her eyes to see an unremarkable hallway lined with lockers. The words of a crackling PA crashed around her mind like gifts from the heavens, then faded into the usual silence. Outside a window she could see darkness, but it appeared to come from the burden of a million droplets of water blocking out the sun rather than a routine night.

"I have brought you here to die..."

Fear kicked up a fuss then, squealing like a dying pig in the corner of her mind, but she ignored the extraneous workings of her mind for a second time. She just mentally slammed the sonic sight into working and pulled herself up to a slightly more dignified stance than that of being slumped on the floor.

Nothing moved.

She took a step, paused mid-step and strained her eyes. After a few tense seconds stretched to nigh breaking point she more forward a few more tentative feet, keeping her step as light as she could. But... Acacia peered at the steel-caps on her boots intently. Metal was noisy. Moreso than her boomer could mask, anyway.

Acacia risked a few more fevered glances around. Having a boomer was great, but no good for knowing whether there was a creeper plag standing behind you ready to make sure your relationship with the body below your head was cut unfortunately short. She shook her head, and slid against the wall so as to remove the potentially traitorous boots. They slid off easy enough, and her toes flexed gratefully at the advantage of the new space they now had.

And that'd be when she noticed the werewolf emerging from a doorway. Acacia Skammer skittered into the faithful shadows provided by a break in the lockers, tensed. Her heart rate increased dramatically, but she barely even blinked during her analysis of this unexpected individual. Emotion was for the weak.

No weapon visible on the lycanthrope, but you usually didn't bother with aggravations such as that when you had claws at your disposal. Nevertheless, he didn't walk like he was about to maul the next person he saw. Probably sane. The Controller hadn't mentioned anything like that, though. Perhaps he just wasn't judging on those terms.

But all this thinking is irrelevant.

She slid out from the shadows.

"Greetings, Pluck."

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

Merely moments upon leaving the classroom, he encountered another contestant.
'This is Acacia Skammer, I think. From what the Controller said, she seemed to be a sort of well intentioned extremist. Will have to be careful, but if I play my cards right, she could be a potential ally, or at least not a primary foe.'
Of course, there was the whole 'deafness' thing that The Controller had mentioned. So it was a good thing he was in a school. Pluck held up his finger for a moment.
"Hold on, be right back."
He then rushed into the classroom he had just left, and rummaged through the supply closet. Luckily, he managed to find a pack of chalk, and rushed back outside. On the wall he wrote
Pluck hoped that he wasn't making a fool of himself, that Acacia didn't have some sort of method of hearing what he would have to say.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

Originally posted on MSPA by Keerutaja.


Sir Arnold Scarlet checked he still had his gun, that's a relief, he thought as he looked around the school. He though about what the Controller had said, and hoped he wouldn't have to kill anybody. Then he decided finding something to eat and maybe find some other people would be a good idea. Sir Arnold Scarlet didn't like the idea of having to kill people, so he decided it would be better to be a team and work together instead of killing. He walked to the caffeteria and looked inside the fridge before he made a sandwich. (Peanut butter, which was his favourite from a long time back.) He hoped he would find some people soon to team up with, or Sir Arnold would have to go looking. The school was quiet big, and he didn't get lost very easily, but he didn't want to get lost looking for people.

Sir Arnold finished his sandwich and walked out into the corridor and looked around. Up the hallway, he saw a guy with a worm on his head, was Algernon his name? He waved and called out. "Hi there! Do you want to team up? We can look after each other."

oops I forgot the text colour
Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

Holly was becoming incredibly frustrated. She had fairly quickly figured out how to use the keyboard, each button corresponding to a character, but these "controls" and "shifts" were confusing. What's more, she had spent about ten minutes trying to manipulate the pointer before figuring out that you needed to use the little bizarrely-shaped piece of plastic. By the time she actually managed to open the program that allowed you to check out books, its completely alien interface sent her into a frenzy.

The elf screamed loudly and sent burning-hot anger spiraling out in a circle, incinerating books and melting the gates (though not her backpack or dress, both of which were thoughtfully made of a fireproof material.) She looked around, now a lot calmer, and realized that the path out was now quite unblocked. "Well, then. I suppose that works!" Holly shifted her weight and skipped out the library door into the hall, giggling.

Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

Lucas stood, dazed. Wondering less about where he was and what was going on and more about fish tacos, he wandered about the room he was in; he found two basketball hoops, four sets of hardwood bleachers, and then a single basketball which lay, desolated, on the floor. From this, he realized that he must have been in the cafeteria. Wandering over to the boy's locker room of the cafeteria, he was confused about where the food was, and accordingly said "Hey, where's the food at?" to the rest of the empty room.

If Wrath had a face at that point in time, he would have cupped it in his palm. "This is the gymnasium, you idiot," he said, disgusted. Deciding that an insane person would do no good in a fight, and much less in an empty room that needed to be explored, Wrath took over. Though hateful, he was also responsible, and probably the most so of the group. If anything, he could be considered the "smart" one (though giving himself such that liberty was more of the thing that a stupid bitch like Envy would do). Even so, he decided exploration was a good idea at the time, so he left the locker room - all he had expected to find was empty lockers and a couple of leftover clothes, and at a few quick glances that's all he had.

Naturally, upon leaving an area with potential loot unexplored, Envy spoke up, much to Wrath's annoyance.

"Hey, wait, there could be stuff in there!"

He decided to ignore her.

Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.

For some reason the lights in the hallway were also on. Algernon had no idea why they would just be left on if everybody was at home. Wouldn't that waste a lot of electricity?

As he sauntered down, trying to keep alert for any sounds that could be one of the bloodthirsty contestants, he couldn't help but feel affected by the mood this place was giving him. Heavy rain, thunder, lightning, it all gave him a little paranoia. Sometimes the lights flickered. It didn't help the feeling of dread at all. he was in a survival horror movie. Which...well, it sort of was like that, wasn't it?

Which was why, when a voice barked out from behind him, he did not react very calmly.

Sir Arnold lowered his hands from his ears. "That...isn't a greeting where you come from, is it?" He asked, a little amused as he went over to help Algernon off the floor.

"Uh, no, sorry. I just surprised me." The black-haired man chuckled as he let himself be pulled up and brushed himself off.

How lucky! Just as he thought of suitable allies, here comes one of them walking right up to him! With similar intentions, too!

"Yes, well, I would like very much to team up. I was actually looking around for some people...hopefully to form a group. Erm, Algernon." The former knight took the proffered hand and shook it firmly, with a strength that Algernon felt was comforting. "Arnold Scarlet."

"Alright, first things first. What do you have?"

Arnold looked bemused for a moment before replying, "A sword, a gun, and a half-digested sandwich in my gut."

"How many bullets?" Algernon immediately shot back. After a small hesitation, he added, "And where did you get the sandwich?"

"Six loaded, though I do have extras...and, er, I got it out of the cafeteria."

Algernon brightened up. Food! It would be very useful to ration up, though he wasn't sure how long this thing would last. But then again...his pockets were already pretty full with all the chalk and erasers and markers and such...

" didn't happen to notice a backpack or something lying around, did you?" His new partner shook his head. wasn't likely he'd find some sort of bag around if he tried looking. And it wouldn't be good to just pass this opportunity, even though he wouldn't be able to carry much for the future. "Well, lead the way."

After hopping over the counter, Algernon rummaged through the boxes, noticing with distaste that there was a whole pile of food past their expiration date. He didn't remember much about school anymore, but surely the food wasn't this bad, was it? He eventually settled for a light snack, chewing on some celery and pocketing a packet of baby carrots.

"Have any idea what to do next?" Arnold asked as Algernon went back out of the kitchen.

"Honestly, not really...I can't really scavenge up more stuff unless I get a bag. I suppose we'll just have to wander around. Maybe we could go to the principal's office...?"

Originally posted on MSPA by Keerutaja.

Sir Arnold Scarlet looked at his new ally confusedly as he wondered why he liked to collect so many things. He shrugged and decided to help out anyway and on the way to the principle's office, the immortal knight policeman started looking through some lockers. "Um what are you doing?" Algernon asked him. Sir Arnold Scarlet said "This is a school for kids right? Kids have schoolbags, so one of these should have something in it."

But most of them were locked and the two didn't have any luck finding a bag for Algernon. He'd already given up, but the knight was looking carefully in a bent locker, and said excitedly, "I think theres one in here!"

"But it's locked" said Algernon sadly. Sir Arnold pulled out his gun and grinned a little bit, which made Algernon jump. He jumped again as Arnold pointed the gun and shot the lock to little bits. He opened the door and gave Algernon his new bag. It was dark red. "Thanks, but wasn't that a waste of bullets?" asked Algernon, voice still shakily from the sound of bullets. He grinned again because it didn't bother him.

"You can make some more can't you Algernon?" The man shook his head. The worm jiggled a little bit. "It's not that simple." "Oh. Well" Arnold shouted "how about we go find some more allies?" He walked cheerfully up the hallway, listening keenly for any other fighters.

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.

Holly perked up at the sound of voices down the hall. The lack of anyone else in the building meant that the voices of the knight and the worm-boy were being carried directly to her. She couldn't make out much, but did hear something about a "cafeteria" and decided to sneak her way there.

Just as she was entering the expanse of tables, she heard the tromping of feet and ducked behind a vending machine. Sure enough, there were the two of them, one's gun still smoking. Holly briefly panicked, but then realized this was the perfect opportunity. She reached into her bag and pulled out an old encyclopedia, flipping through for the pages she wanted. Upon reaching page 847, she swiftly tore out two pages, crumpled them into a ball and turned them to ash. Algernon caught wind of the noise just before he was blindsided by a glowing sphere of pure nationalist rage.

Algernon suddenly found himself quite angry. Angry at the worms, angry at the Controller, and angry at that stupid stupid elf. Sir Arnold extended a hand towards him, which Algernon promptly swatted aside. He began screaming with the fury of a thousand men, a scream so loud it could wake the dead.
Originally posted on MSPA by The Dr..

Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.