Today we've got a match between in the Azure's M.A.: The Sentient Plague and Kamiroo Wolf's Winston.
Remember to vote fairly and feel free to give feedback on either piece! May the best man/plague win.
Spoiler (Click to Show)
Looking around at the white sands, he at least felt pretty cozy. The sun was setting before him into the water, so he was somewhere west. That was helpful at least. The scene was idyllic, beautiful in its simplicity. Maybe he needed a bit of a break. After all the things that had happened lately, he could honestly use a break. Leaving Sanctuary had weighed a bit heavier on his mind than he wanted to let on; fighting his former comrades, giving up on their ideals. He was still a kid, and yet the world seemed intent to give him as heavy a burden as it could muster.
He glanced at the sketchbook to his side. It seemed whatever brought him here wasn’t interested in leaving him powerless nor defenseless. Then again, without anybody around, what exactly was there to be worried about? Still, he felt safer having it around than being without. He thought back to his father, and to the things he’d told him, how he’d been helping him unlock more of his potential. “Dad… are you ok? I hope nothing happened when… whatever it was that happened brought me here.”
Flipping through the pages, he glances through some of the summons he has predrawn, ready to tear out at a moment’s notice. It definitely looked like his sketch book; he was pretty sure nobody else drew a bunch of stick figures with highly detailed weapons alongside fairly detailed human knights. Or maybe they did, and he just wanted to reassure himself this wasn’t some intricate trap. Whatever the case may have been, the hidden symbol that was his artist tag was in the corner of the front and back cover, so he was pretty damn sure this was definitely his.
Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he decides to draw Atkus on a page as well, just to reassure himself. One of his more powerful summons he had recently unlocked, Atkus was similar to his human knights, but more powerful in a subtle way. The warrior, able to wield a greatsword in but one hand and a tower shield in the other, had the peculiar ability to grow faster as he swung his sword about, slowly becoming a whirlwind of heavy strikes as he follows alternating patterns of attacks.
By the time he was done, the sun had set, and the beach became somewhat illuminated by the moon, the silvery light casting its glow upon the waves and giving the sand a keen luster. Deciding that staying outside for the night wasn’t his idea of a good time, Winston headed for the cabin. It was indoors, and if he was lucky, it’d have a bed to get some proper sleep on.
Heading up the fairly short staircase (could you call three stairs a staircase?), he opened the door without effort. Inside, there was a mini fridge, a single bed, a fireplace, a kitchenette (score), and a bookshelf with what look to be romance, mystery, and old monster novels. Checking that the fridge was indeed decently stocked, Winston decides to give this impromptu vacation a shot. Tearing out two pages, he summons two stick figures: one with a flaming sword, the other with an extra large sledgehammer. “Six points. Should be pretty good. You guys, guard outside, alright? I don’t know who sent me here, but I’d rather not have anybody try to do anything weird to me while I’m asleep, alright?” The two stick figures nod, before making their way out of the door. Winston lets out a breath of relief, and grabbing a microwave pot pie out of the mini fridge, goes to heat it up in the microwave.
~~~~~
The night dragged on a bit as Winston sat on the bed, looking through one of the books from the shelf. A monster book, it was titled ‘Night of the Living Flesh.’ It seemed to focus on a cliche group of curious (read: dumb) teenagers who find a mysterious hole in the ground from some alien ship crashing, and a strange creature made of flesh pops out and eats one. Cue them trying to save the day while telling nobody about the monster, leading to it secretly going around eating people and growing larger and more dangerous all the while…
He blinks. “What the…?” He felt some of his power returning. One of his summons had been eliminated. But how? It was definitely something to worry about. He closes the book and grabs his sketch book, heading to check outside the door. Not having windows was both a blessing and a weakness, really. You didn’t have to worry about anything breaking through it, but you could only look out the door.
As he glances out, he doesn’t notice much. Risking sticking his head a bit further out, he spots a flame in the distance; so it was number 2 that got eliminated. The direction it seemed to have patrolled in, judging by the footsteps on the beach, was towards a cave on the far end of the beach. Nothing was visible, but that gave Winston even more chills. There wasn’t much chance the stick went there and died falling on a rock. Now the question was if he should go to investigate, or if he should leave well enough alone. His mind wanders back to the book he was reading.
“Going to a mysterious cave on a mysterious beach in the middle of the night when I know that something just died in there? Yeah, that’s something I’m definitely not going to do. Mom didn’t raise no fool.” Tearing out a few more pages, he summons two basic sticks with swords, and a knight with a mace. “Ok. You two.” He points to the sticks. “Stick with Number One over there, and avoid that cave. Got it?”
They nod and head off.
“And you, Mr. Knight. Guard my door. No wandering off.” Winston cast another glance towards the cave, feeling less and less at ease. “Seriously. No wandering.”
The knight gives a nod, though he glances at the cave curiously. It seemed to want to ask him something, but held its tongue. Winston heads back in, sitting on the bed and leaning his back against the wall. He was definitely not feeling comfortable anymore. He needed to figure out where he was, and he needed to get home fast.
~~~~~
The day breaks slowly, and Winston jolts awake as the rays of sunlight hit him from the cracks in the wooden door. Stretching to waken himself, he rubs at his eyes, wiping away the dreams of fleshy monsters and sexy teenage girls saying “Jinkies!”
As he gets his head together, he comes to a strange realization. All his stick figures were gone. Grabbing his sketchbook, he rushes outside, looking around. There was no sign of anybody. The waves greet him silently. The sands look clear of struggles.
There was no sign of anybody. But he could clearly feel that his knight was still active; there was still a solid drain on his power, mentally calculated to four points. So where was he? Even if they were a bit more rebellious, they wouldn’t just outright ignore orders.
Something was going on. Something weird, something strange, something he didn’t like. And it was definitely in that cave. Taking a deep breath, he pulls out the page of Atkus, and throws it in the air where it disintegrates. Atkus spawns, slowly rising from the magic circle as though he were being brought to life from another world.
Standing tall and proud, the knight in shining armor with shinier shield and sword looks about, taking note of the surroundings. Winston walks in front of him. “Hey Atkus,” Winston greets him. He receives no reply, not that he expected one. Atkus was the strong silent type, with emphasis on the word strong. Solidly built, his armor was filled out with muscles that were reminiscent of a greek adonis, appearing more chiseled than being made of flesh. With stony eyes, he looks down to Winston, awaiting instruction. “Atkus, we’re going to go investigate that cave and see if we can’t figure out what’s going on here, and why I got dragged here.”
Atkus nods, and moving before Winston, begins to trek towards the cave. Winston follows close behind, notching pages to quickly be pulled out in the worst case scenario. Arriving at the mouth of the cave, Winston immediately notes that it seems strangely humid. It was partially in the water and sloped downwards, so it wasn’t exceptionally weird, but something about the humidity, the stickiness of it… it seemed off.
Atkus takes the lead, heading down slowly. Winston clicks his tongue, annoyed that he couldn’t summon a stick with some light attribute to make things easier to see. If he made it back, he would definitely need to talk to his father about unsummoning things. Whatever his knight was doing, it was wasting his power.
As they descend deeper and deeper, the wet sand and rocks and flowing seawater notably slowing their progress, Winston begins to note a smell in the air. It was diluted, so it didn’t get to him immediately, but he soon understands just what it is from his fights and his time in Sanctuary.
Blood. Lots and lots of blood. He hangs back a bit, letting Atkus take more of the lead. This wasn’t good. Something bad was clearly down there. Still, if he wanted to make sure he was safe while figuring things out, he needed to deal with it quickly, and Atkus was likely his strongest defensive summon, and once he got going, his strongest offensive one as well.
Eventually, the cave seemed to level out, and the smell of blood was thick and acrid now. Winston moves his shirt above his nose, holding back the need to gag.
A random flashlight was on the ground. Picking it up, Winston turns it on and waves it around. He immediately regrets it. All over the walls are human and animal entrails and viscera, blood coating everything. It was as if things were repeatedly smashed against the walls until they stuck, like some sort of sick children’s toy. As he continued to stare, he noticed that black stains were mixed in… he shaked the implications from his mind, silently apologizing to the stick figures.
But that didn’t explain what happened to the knight. Until he heard something clang against Atkus’ shield. He turned the flashlight, only to see his knight attempting to introduce Atkus to the business end of his mace. Atkus, unsure of what to do in facing his master’s fellow summon, simply defends himself with his shield. Winston tries to process what is happening, before trying to command him. “Stop! Don’t attack Atkus! What are you even doing?”
The knight seems to show some restraint, before launching back in its assault. It seemed like some stronger force was compelling it. Atkus, seeing that there was no helping it, brings his greatsword down on the knight’s helm, not splitting it, but certainly leaving a dent. The stunned knight backs off its attack, only to receive a slash across its neck, severing its head. It falls to the floor, rolling to a halt at Atkus’ feet while its body simply slumps forward. Winston is unable to hold it in anymore. He pukes.
Atkus kneels and rubs his back, keeping vigil to ensure nothing tries to attack from the shadows, but they appear to be alone now. Winston, once his stomach settles, stands on unsteady feet. “That… what was that? What happened to him?” He tries to make sense of things, but doesn’t. The corpse sits there, unmoving, and strangely… not bleeding, either. It wasn’t as if there was no blood at all, it but it was very little, all things considered. Winston doesn’t dwell on this. He just had to kill one of his summons. Maybe not by his own hand, but he was still responsible. Grabbing its mace, he checks to see how much it weighs him down. Satisfied it wasn’t too significant, he and Atkus begin making their way back up. As they reached the entrance, a strange, small figure looked down on them. It resembled a small girl, but because of the sunlight to its back, Winston couldn’t get a good look. The shape of the head seemed weird, however, as did its limbs… He backs away slowly.
“Hello?” he says slowly, trying to keep himself calm. “Who are you? Are you friendly?”
The person doesn’t speak. Taking this as a problem, Winston moves behind Atkus.
“Atkus, shield up and go and check them out. If they seem aggressive, take them down immediately. They’re probably the one that did something to my knight.” Atkus nods, and following orders, brings up his tower shield, slowly moving towards the being standing at the top of the cave. After a few steps, he collapses to his knees. Behind his helmet, he was just as confused as Winston was, the latter trying to figure out how he had lost his footing.
Quick as a whip, however, something lashes out from the small feminine form, impaling itself in the small slits of Atkus’ helmet. The paragon twitches a bit, before falling forward, still and lifeless. The tail slowly slithers back to the creature, which widens its stance slightly, raising up its two… four arms up in what appeared to be an act of intimidation. Winston panicked, then remembered, he had plenty of sticks predrawn. All he needed was a distraction to get out.
Preparing to rip out pages, he feels his arm go numb. Looking down, he notices a trail of spiders on him; when did they get there? Where had they come from? His sketchbook fell to the water and sand, and he looked towards the creature which was slowly descending towards him. Mace still in his other hand, he lifts it slowly behind his back, hoping he can at least get one shot in. It wasn’t going to end like this. As soon as the creature closed in, he swung with all he had.
It caught the weapon easily with two of its arms. Without hope, Winston throws a kick, only to be pushed backwards, his head hitting a rock hard. As he began to unceremoniously black out, he watched the creature appear to carve out some of its flesh, and slowly draw closer and closer still.
In his mind, all he could think of was the flesh monster from the book. Constantly feeding on others, constantly expanding, all because of curiosity…
~~~~~
In a lab some distance away, two RHG officials stare at their screen. “It seems that containment is working for now,” one says. “We’ve managed to isolate the creature to the beach, and giving it prey to deal with seems to keep it pacified enough that it isn’t trying to move elsewhere yet. It seems like it likes keeping its ‘nest’ in a fairly safe spot.”
“True,” the scientist’s partner agrees. “But I worry about sending dangerous gladiators to it. While it would be great if they could kill it, what if it manages to find a way back to major civilization during one of the drops? We already lost a few employees to it, and its mind control powers seem rather troublesome.”
“You worry too much. It’s like an animal. As long as you feed it, it’ll remain docile. Besides, even if Winston somehow manages to survive, do you think he’ll be unharmed? He won’t be able to connect this to the RHG Organization, much less the containment branch, and our location is highly classified even within the organization. Using him kills two birds with one stone.”
“I guess you’re right. I’m just worried that underestimating this thing could result in a disaster.”
“Just file a report if you’re so worried. I’m going on break soon.”
Unnoticed by the two, Winston emerges from the cave, as if in a stupor. Ripping out a drawing, he soon takes off with a stick figure on a rocket board, heading out to sea towards the nearest land...
[/Spoiler]
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