Author Topic: Weird West IC  (Read 3830 times)

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Offline PatMan33

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Re: Weird West IC
« Reply #15 on: June 29, 2011, 02:25:34 pm »
"Oh yeah? Well start summing it up, why don't ya?" Ian spat, drawing his gun on Goyathlay, "Because I'm about done playing games."

"YAAAHH! PUTITAWAYPUTITAWAY!!!" Goyathlay yelped, pushing Ian's gun back toward its holster, causing it to fire.

The shot seemed to echo for miles in at least two directions and Ian glared at Goyathlay with murder in his eyes. Much to Ian's surprise, Goyathlay didn't seem scared, at least not of him. No, something else was bothering the spirit now, and Ian soon realized why. In the distance, toward the boundary of the stick-thin dimension, erupted a ball of flame that darted about eccentrically. It bobbed and weaved as it raced toward the duo and with a spectacular flash, the orb exploded, surrounding Ian and Goyathlay with a wall of flame. A few moments passed before a short, squat man in a top hat appeared. He glared at Goyathlay before turning his sights on Ian. A piece of smoldering paper appeared in his hand.

"Mr. Ian and Mr. Goyathlay are ordered to appear before The Chairman to pay their respects. You will come with me to Edge, now. Refusal will result in Final Death."

Before either could say anything, the wall of flame closed around them and pulled the pair into the sky. They hurtled toward a large warehouse-like structure situated precariously on the edge of the thin world, a large neon sign informing them that they had arrived at Edge. Goyathlay appeared to be mulling something over in his mind while biting his nails. Ian simply stared, the annoyance clear on his face. As they landed, the short man turned and pointed toward the front door.

"The Chairman is waiting inside. Your indiscretion with your firearm will be ignored for now, Mr. Ian." The man spoke almost kindly to Ian. Goyathlay's face was awash with relief after hearing this, but was immediately back on edge as the man turned to him. "You, on the other hand... do this charge a favor and keep your trap shut, Goyathlay."

"This charge!?" Ian hollered, before the short man interrupted him. "Don't worry, Mr. Ian. Just go in and talk to The Chairman. Go."

At his word, the front door flew open and Ian and Goyathlay were pulled inside. They stood in darkness for a while, stewing in the hot air of Edge. Finally a light appeared and the two found themselves standing in... a warehouse. Pallets of shrink-wrapped chairs towered above them and the sounds of industry could be heard in the far distance. Up ahead was an oaken throne engraved with dragons that were spewing real flame. A shuffling sound off to the left got Ian's attention and he turned, one hand on his revolver. There was a zap as a tiny bolt of lightning shied his hand away from the weapon.

"That won't be necessary." A corpse of a man was standing nearby. His tattered crimson robes and faded white gloves spoke of better days. With a hacking cough, the man waved his hand, causing two chairs of solid ice to appear behind Ian and Goyathlay. "Please, sit. The Chairman will be here in a moment. Mind your manners... there are rules here. And any indiscre-"

"BERNIE! Shut your hole." A vibrant voice interrupted the old man. "In fact, I think the hounds need feeding again. Go let them gnaw on you for a bit."

"Yes... master..." the old man grumbled, eternal rage boiling in his eyes. He exited.

"That guy... man, crafty son of a gun! Actually got away from us once. Oh how the hounds ate when we brought him back!!" The Chairman spoke with glee. He was clearly moving around the room, but beyond the walls of economy seating could have been anything. And Ian had already seen about seventeen unimaginable things in the last ten minutes so he didn't even bother to try to guess. "So, Goyathlay, here again? And with another poor sap? Ian, I hope you're good. Because Goyathlay needs the best. Now then, I'm going to be your ticket out of this place. I've got the most sway with The Nice One. So you do a little something for me, and maybe I'll do a little something for you. Maybe. But we'll worry about that later. Let's get down to brass tacks, shall we? This will be fairly short and I will be sending you on your way once I'm done, so don't get too comfortable. Now then, where am I? Oh! Here I am!"

A blast of air erupted from the throne and the dragons that adorned it belched out a deafening flame. Behind the veil of red, a shadowy shape could be seen sitting down.
« Last Edit: June 29, 2011, 02:38:14 pm by PatMan33 »

Offline Neoadept

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Re: Weird West IC
« Reply #16 on: July 03, 2011, 06:26:48 pm »
As the flames died down, the man behind them was revealed to be far less imposing than the theatrics implied.  Before Ian and Goyathlay now sat a balding with a short beard, dressed in a modest button up shirt and jeans.  Somehow, the grand wooden throne had become a well padded red leather recliner, the flickering shadows cast by the flame making it's wrinkles and creases almost seem alive.  The man practically oozed an earthy kind of charisma.  Where the Nice One and his companions had broadcast dominance and a feeling of control, the Chairman gave off a feeling of just being one of the guys, of being on your side.

Ian, being a suspicious man by nature and learning, instantly distrusted anyone so seemingly trustworthy and practically spat his next words.  "So what I gotta do?"

"Ha!  You got fire, Ian, I like that," the Chairman answered, gesturing idly at the surrounding inferno to demonstrate.  "You came to Otherworld pissed, the big names kicked you around, but I'm gonna make sure you leave happy!"  Having leaned forward to make this exclamation, he collapsed back into the chair, the footrest lifting of it's own accord as he reclined before continuing.  "Provided you pay your dues, of course, my prices are fairer than most but I'm not a charity."

With an idle motion he tossed a piece of paper off to the side, not paying it any heed as it drifted lazily through the air.  "See, I've acquired something of a problem recently," the paper passed precariously close to one of the pillars of flame before a draft drew off from it.  "Mercenary camp moved in about a day north of here, started interfering with certain developments of mine," despite it's apparently random course, the paper came to rest in Ian's lap.  "That's their leader," he said as Ian snatched it up.

Spoiled expectations seemed to be the order of the day, as the photograph displayed a young girl.  Ian had been through enough not to reject the woman folk out of hand, Lou only being the most recent example, but where Lou had looked as rough and tumble (and, admittedly, foolhardy) as any boy her age, this one looked like the prototypical merchant's daughter, thin and fragile and playing cowboy.  Hair that was nearly white fell to her shoulders just under a wide brimmed hat that seemed wildly out of place, almost as much as the huge knife that hung at her hip.  And then he got to the eyes, and he remembered seeing eyes like that in old men just before they rode to a fight they knew they'd lose.

"At first, it was funny, seein' Little Girl Grey there orderin' all those thugs around.  Then it got a little creepy.  Then..."  The Chairman's tone darkened and for the first time he didn't seem friendly, "she became bothersome.  Clear the way, Mr. Ian.  I don't much care how you do it."

That seeming to be the end of the meeting, Ian and Goyathlay stood.  Ian seemed about to spit back one last retort, but Goyathlay seized him arm and hauled him away.

As the warehouse doors shut behind them, the Chairman looked up towards the ceiling.  Honestly, he could do without the flames, but they killed night vision and drew the eye away from his guest.  As loathe as he was to let anyone see it, he was even more loathe to let it out of his sight.  "So, Hobson, what do you think of the new guy?"

Above him, iron chains clinked softly as Hobson shifted slightly.  "Better than the last few, but I fear far worse than our first choice.  It's a shame we squandered him before we worked out the kinks."

"But can he pull it off?"

"If he can't, someone will.  Progress marches ever onward..."
« Last Edit: July 03, 2011, 10:52:36 pm by Neoadept »
Nefarious?  Nearly.  Ne’er-do-well?  Never!  Neither nearly names this narrator.  Naive and knowledgeable, notorious and inscrutable, this nascent Nero is known naturally as Neoadept.

Offline Krakow Sam

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Re: Weird West IC
« Reply #17 on: July 04, 2011, 09:55:50 am »
"This... this sucks!" said Ian, kicking a pebble hard as he and Goyathlay trudged across the strange spiritscape in search of a settlement or at least a friendly face.

"Wait... sucks, why did I even say that? What does that even mean?" he asked himself, his dusty brow creasing in puzzled annoyance.

"I dunno" said Goyathlay, "thats just a thing that happens here in the Other, things seep into your head, things that ain't happened yet, or happened a long time ago, or never did happen and never will. You never wondered how clairvoyants did it? Its not always smoke and mirrors, sometimes they can listen in on the Other and get some choice tips. Course, most of the time even the choicest tips are damn near useless until after whats meant to happen has already happened."

Goyathlay continued rambling for a few seconds until Ian remembered where he was and fetched him a slap around the back of the head. Ahead of the pair a squat cluster of square-slab pyramids resolved themselves, decorated with gaudy colours and wooden signs above their dark entrances. Ian squinted at them.

"Huh. Spanish. Whaddayou make of it Goy?"

"Oh, I think I heard about this" said Goyathlay, scratching his head. "Dioses Mexicanos. After Cortez and his friends chased them out of their homeland they settled somewhere in the Other, I guess that somewhere is here. I hear they work as mercenaries now or something."

A man leaning against one of the smaller pyramids on the near side of the settlement looked up as they approached, his ludicrously oversized sombrero shading his face, though not enough to obscure the fact that his mouth was rather larger than normal, and his teeth somewhat sharper.

"You do not look so good compañeros." he said, taking a drag on a pungent cigar and blowing a smoke ring. "Maybe Macuilcozcacuauhtli can help, eh?"

Sam is basically right, he's just cranky.

Offline PatMan33

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Re: Weird West IC
« Reply #18 on: July 29, 2011, 02:27:57 pm »
"Unless you're walking the same way we are, forget it!" Ian said, scowling. "I'm done with talking."

"Ah... I see." the cigar-smoking man said, "Well then, carry on. I'll just follow along quietly for a while. Consider me a curious third party."

And with that, a pair of beady eyes gleamed from beneath the sombrero's shadow and the large figure vanished. Ian narrowed his eyes and then turned back onto the path he had been taking. He walked for a while with Goyathlay just behind, yammering away about this and that. Somewhere the sombrero man was watching, though Ian had stopped worrying about him. Ian had begun to like him, if only for the fact that he kept his mouth shut. Meanwhile, the man in the sombrero watched with subdued interest. He glanced down at a small electronic device every now and again to check on things that had no bearing on his current endeavor.

Up ahead, a cloud of dust appeared to be rolling across the edge of the narrow world. It danced along the cliff at the edge of oblivion with purpose and refused to change direction for anything... well, that is until it spotted Goyathlay. Turning sharply, the cloud rumbled across the badlands toward the adventurous duo. Ian wasted no time in readying his gun and Goyathlay made sure he had put a few yards between himself and his charge. The dust cloud undulated before Ian and a raucous laughter filled the air.

A screeching voice called out loudly, "Goyathlay's new caretaker is here! Form up!!"

Ian coughed as the cloud engulfed him and began to coalesce at his feet. Hundreds of different screams pierced his ears as the brown mist took the shape of a young woman in a dinner gown. She would have been quite lovely had she not been at least two hundred pounds too heavy for the outfit. Her skin spilled over the edges of the gown in large mounds, and the only thing that kept its overloaded seams from snapping was the combined willpower of the three men nearby. As she opened her mouth to speak, Ian could see a set of filthy blackened teeth. He put a hand to his mouth and backed up as the smell finally hit him, eliciting laughter from the lumbering lard lady.

"Ugh... what the hell are you supposed to be?" Ian coughed, trying to spit the smell out of his mouth.

"Ah! Hahaha! Wouldn't you like to know?" she chuckled, "I'll tell you if you can find me..."

The large woman stepped to the side revealing an exact duplicate of herself not two steps behind. Composing himself slightly, Ian leaned to the side and felt his stomach drop. For as far as the eye could see, there was a straight line of identical fat women stretching into the distance. More frightening was what the woman said next.

"Better do it quick, though! You've already breathed some of me in... and f you can't find me in time, you'll join me."

Her sentence was punctuated with the screams of all her victims, forever trapped by her blubber. Ian cringed at the thought and looked down the line. He had only one thought.

"I don't have time for crap like this..."
« Last Edit: July 29, 2011, 02:37:54 pm by PatMan33 »