[TCP] MAZE TRIALS 2.0

[skinstealer]

[image description: garland dodging corro's knife slash effortlessly, the possession type's expression manic and vicious. ]

Garland dodges her strike effortlessly, hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

Something hits Corro in the head- the TCP looking around wildly for the source, her mind getting dizzy.

CORROSION: What did you-?!
 

He snickers.

GARLAND: Sorry, sorry! It's not really my fault!
GARLAND: My ability's just like that- what did it do to you?
GARLAND: From the look of you tripping over yourself, it probably turned you all around...
GARLAND: Hexes! Unpredictable, but so handy!
CORROSION: You little!
CORROSION: You think you're soooooo fucking clever!

 

She tries to raise her knife again, only to stumble. Whatever this "hex" thing is, it's a fucking nuisance.

CORROSION: You're just a scrawny little shrimp acting like you're too good for this!
CORROSION: You think you're a big man, huh?
CORROSION: Big-
 

Another stumble, the other TCP just standing and watching. Practically smirking at her, through sheer vibes alone.

CORROSION: Like you're a BIIIIG fucking deal!
CORROSION: You don't even reach up to my chest!
CORROSION: Stop being such a PUSSY and FIGHT ME ALREADY!

 

Her knife is practically falling out of her hand, having to catch it and readjust. Praying that he doesn't notice.

GARLAND: The overseers really prefer when I make a show of it, you know?
GARLAND: They're really into the humiliation angle.
GARLAND: Perverts, right?
GARLAND: I can't say I'm huge on it, but-
GARLAND: You sure do make a lousy actor.
GARLAND: Would've expected more from a pretty TCP like you.
CORROSION: PRETTY-
GARLAND: Big femmes really are my type.

 

I'm going to kill this freak-
I'm going to make him regret even being SPAWNED

Corro tightens her grip on her knife, tightening her resolve. This little creep was going down. Hex or no hex, he wasn't making it out of here alive, no matter what.

She gets to her feet, standing tall, steady, her rage bubbling over past the mental effects of the hex and completely fueling her.

GARLAND: Oh, are we fighting for real now?
GARLAND: No more tiptoeing around?
GARLAND: Awesome.

 

Before Corro can move, there's a loud BANG

-something flying past her head.

It hits the wall behind her with an awful noise, ricocheting off and onto the floor.

A quick, hurried glance reveals it to be an indescript chunk of metal. Completely useless.

She looks back at the other TCP, desperately trying to calm her nerves.

 

[image description: garland standing in a dramatic pose, his hand outstretched toward the camera- its mitten-like shape contorted into a vague finger gun pose.]

 

He's holding his hand outstretched, finally removed from his pocket- the mitten-like limb resembling what she could only describe as-

...a fucking finger gun?

CORROSION: What did you DO-
GARLAND: Ah, ah-
GARLAND: I wouldn't be a very good wizard if I revealed my tricks.

 

The
The coat.
I should have-

Long coats had come into fashion, in the trials.

Long coats with internal pockets, lined with...something. She can't remember the word people used for it, her mind failing her at this crucial moment.


I fucked up. I fucked up I fucked up Ifuckedup
He's a fucking magic user
Even if I knew his type, he can do whatever the fuck he wants
I have no idea what's IN HIS COAT


She can't move, her eyespots trained on him. She knows she's shaking, overcome with fear and fury. She'd never faced a magic user up close. Sniped from afar, sure, but-

GARLAND: Looking so shaky doesn't suit you.
GARLAND: One scrap bullet's enough to freak you out so bad?
CORROSION: YOU'RE the FREAK
CORROSION: Hiding behind MAGIC-
 

What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
I need to- I need to get a grip, I need to shut UP

CORROSION: Like it'll save your sorry, PATHETIC ass!

 

Garland shakes his head, tapping his toe.

GARLAND: And here you accuse me of being all talk.
GARLAND: I'm getting bored.
GARLAND: You haven't even shown your typing yet!
GARLAND: Aren't abstracts supposed to be like gods?
GARLAND: Your kind rule the trials.
GARLAND: An advantage against all of the rest of us...
GARLAND: But you haven't even managed to touch me.
 

My-
my TYPE
I can-!

 

[image description: garland and corro facing off, with garland standing poised, finger gun at the ready- and corro floating, 4 arms and fabric halo present as part of her ascended form. corrosion is fucking pissed.]

A second pair of arms unfurl from her sides, the possession type lifting off of the ground as a halo of tangled fabric materializes around her neck.

Corrosion's health is now FANTASTIC, down from PERFECT.

Garland watches, shaking out his body and readying himself.

GARLAND: That's more like it.