Post by Brisk on Dec 13, 2016 23:14:58 GMT
[Heavy Weights, Suppressed Bonus, Dojo]
Brisk sat down quietly in what was formerly the bridge control center of Wyntre's incredible cosmo hopping star destroyer, the Valiance. He had been fiddling with controls here and there earlier, pretending he was still piloting what was now a hunk of melted metal. The controls blinked wearily, the backlights of the switches dimmed, either from wear on the controls themselves or a lack of energy in their LEDs. But still, the boy flipped switches and gave imaginary orders to his crew of space pirates. He cried almost constantly.
Wyntre was the closest thing the boy could remember to a mother. He had spent so long looking for her and waiting for her and had been so quick to love her. But now she was dead as far as he knew, and he would never get her back. So he had to live on his own, and make a home out of the ashes of her legacy.
The control room wasn't cramped by any means, and was tiled with beautiful pearly tiles which only had a few gaping cracks from atmospheric entry. The chamber was shaped like an oblong oval, and all the walls were lines with thick panels, except for one 90 degree portion, which was reserved for the sliding steel door which no longer operated properly. Here and there, control panels had their pedestals opened up and unscrewed, the wires tangled by the young aspiring space pirate; maybe if he looked hard enough, he would find his mother.
But now the boy was tired, bored, and out of energy from running around and playing all afternoon. So he sat flatly on his butt with his head hanging down and his legs sprawled out in front of him. He daydreamed of Wyntre, of the crash of the ship.
A single name drifted in his consciousness as he stared at a particular crack in a tile.
Brisk Cold.
The child eventually flopped onto his back, letting his arms spread out to his sides and his tail slip out from between his legs. It was a bit uncomfortable for the 7 year old to lie on his back, because his tail made it lumpy, but he was tired enough to lie down on a bed of nails at this point. "M-Miss you.." The child suddenly sniffled, memories of Wyntre and Zexama resurfacing out of nowhere. Within moments the child was in tears again, quietly sobbing. Cupping his hands over his face, the boy curled up so he was no larger than a pillow and rolled onto his side.
"Notification:" an unknown voice gargled, harsh with static distortion and a robotic sag, "Priority: One. Transmission incoming from: Palace Arcose."
Immediately, the sleepy child was on his feet, and eyes wide with innocent curiosity, he waddled over to the control panel where the sound was coming from. The boy was too short to reach the controls or look at the screen, so he scooted over a chair and used it as a step as he scrambled onto the flat control panel.
Now looking down, the child saw that there was no video feed for the transmission, but the high quality audio connection was being established. "͠Pęopl̡e̴ of͜ A͜r̴c҉osȩ,͜ an̶d ̧th̕e̡ ̸Ȩm̵p̧i̛ŕe," the cold but firm voice began, causing Brisk to jerk with surprise. After his initial shock, the boy pressed his ear up to the control panel, hoping to hear more closely where the voice was coming from. Was there someone inside the panel, or was it talking like a scouter!?
"H̨e̴e̢d ͘my͟ w̵or̸ds." Brisk was relatively certain that the voice was talking to him like a scouter now. Brisk knew because it sounded kind of tinny and static and he knew that real people voices didn't sound like that. He felt pretty darn smart for figuring it out, actually. "T̕hȩ ͠Fal̨s͠ę ͠Empe͜ro͝r ha͡s̨ ̡fa͡l̴l͢en in͠ com͡ba͢t. ̀H͠e͡ ͘w̴as͜ ́c͏h̡al͟l̢eng͡ed f͢or ̢h͢i̕s҉ posi͠ti̵o҉n͞ ̛a̴nd͏ fel͝l̕.̧ ͢He fo̡ugh̸t̸ lo͠ng͝ an̶d͡ ̵h̢ar̛ḑ.͡ ̷Hono͏rab̵ly̵ ́e͘v͘e̕n.̷ ͘Bu͠t h͡è has f͡ąĺle̴n t̕o̵ my͡ ̵h̀a̷n͝dş." Brisk's eyes widened. This was a message from Wyntre's friend!? This person knew that there was a bad Emperor who didn't like Wyntre on arcose, and he had helped out Wyntre by fighting him! But Brisk was a little bit skeptical. After all… He was just on Arcose with his mother, and she told him it was a grave yard!!!
"͟Th҉e h̸and̡s ̸of͢ y͞ou͞r͢ new̶ Em̨p͞e̶ro̸r̴. Tḩe҉ ́E̸m̶pire'́s ҉Re͘ig̡n ̷ha̢s ͘b͡eèn ẃea͏k th͏a͘t ̴pas͢t few͠ g̷e͞n̸era̛tio̢n͠s, a̴n̨d́ ҉t͝he ͡lo҉s͠s óf ̸our ͏ho͘m̢e ̀p̨l̡an͠e͞t͟ d̡i͘dn̕'͠t͞ màk̨e it ͘ea͜sier͏." Brisk was confused now. Wasn't the robot just talking about how he had saved Arcose from people trying to kill Wyntre!! How did he be the Emperor if Wyntre was already the Empress?
"Un҉d̶èr ͘my ́Rule we wiļl҉ ̛r͢e̴bui͞l̷d̡, and on͠c̢e a̡g̡a͞in ͜grow͞ ͞i̧n͡to the m̛ighty̕ ͟E҉m͟p͜i͠re ̀w͘e ̛w͠ere͜.͝ ͢I̴ ̶wil̛l ́lead̀ us t̷ò ҉a̶ ̵n̢e͝w ̀a͞n͏d̷ gl̨o͝rious ͞G҉ol͞de̵n Age͠." Brisk now pulled his head away from the control panel. He made the brave jump down from the panel to the stool he had pushed over, and sat down on it, putting on his best space captain thinking face. If he wanted to make it better… Was that why he called Brisk? Because he knew that Brisk was the only one who could be as smart as Wyntre!? "I can help!!!" Brisk shouted back to the transmission, but the voice ignored him.
"Ou͟r Pe͡o̡p̶l͡e,̛ ͠Our̕ ͠For̸ce͟s̀, Ou͞r͢ ͞Pros͞ṕe͏r͞i͟ty. Al͡l of͘ ́t͏h̴e͢m̶ ҉will҉ R͠e̴ac͟h new ͘h̴e̸ig̨ht́s nót̸ ͜y̕et͠ a̸c͡h̀i̴e͞v̸e͡d b͏e͠for̨e. ͞S͜o͟ a͡llo͟w m͝e̕ to gu̢i̢de you to͏ ͘t̡hi̸s̸ P͏r̢om͞i͢s̨e͡ h͠o҉w͡ev͢er I͏ c͡an̴.͞ ̸Al͏l ha̵i̴l̴ ͢t҉he͠ Arco͡s̨ia͜n̢ Em̸p̴ir̛e͘.̷̷̀͢͠... Á̡Ļ̵L̵͏̶ ̡͟H̸͠A̵͘Į̴̸͢L͏҉̷ ̨E̶͢͠͡Ḿ̵͡P̧͡͡Ę͝͞͝R̵͢͞͞O͠R̡͘͢͝ ̕͟͡Ŗ̨̀̕E͏T̵̷Ś̵U̷͏!̧҉" The transmission shut out suddenly and Brisk was left again with only his thoughts. He scrunched up his face real tight and began knocking on his crystal dome gently with his fists from either side, rocking his head back and forth. Was Restu the bad Emperor? Or was he the one helping Wyntre? And did they know that Brisk was Wyntre's special apprentice? And could they hear him or what!?
Brisk decided he would talk to this voice once and for all. Jumping back up on the control panel, Brisk began pressing buttons and flipping switches in silly little patterns. Up, down, up, down… And finally he pressed the top three buttons, then a middle one, and two in the bottom left corner. Maybe that would tell the voice that he was the best space pirate to help save Wyntre..!
Meanwhile, as the control panel blinked fervently, the ship prepared a transmission, automatically addressed to the original source of the last broadcast received.
On Arcose, Lord Retsu would soon receive a very strange request… A distress signal from the battleship of none other than Wyntre Cold herself.
Brisk sat down quietly in what was formerly the bridge control center of Wyntre's incredible cosmo hopping star destroyer, the Valiance. He had been fiddling with controls here and there earlier, pretending he was still piloting what was now a hunk of melted metal. The controls blinked wearily, the backlights of the switches dimmed, either from wear on the controls themselves or a lack of energy in their LEDs. But still, the boy flipped switches and gave imaginary orders to his crew of space pirates. He cried almost constantly.
Wyntre was the closest thing the boy could remember to a mother. He had spent so long looking for her and waiting for her and had been so quick to love her. But now she was dead as far as he knew, and he would never get her back. So he had to live on his own, and make a home out of the ashes of her legacy.
The control room wasn't cramped by any means, and was tiled with beautiful pearly tiles which only had a few gaping cracks from atmospheric entry. The chamber was shaped like an oblong oval, and all the walls were lines with thick panels, except for one 90 degree portion, which was reserved for the sliding steel door which no longer operated properly. Here and there, control panels had their pedestals opened up and unscrewed, the wires tangled by the young aspiring space pirate; maybe if he looked hard enough, he would find his mother.
But now the boy was tired, bored, and out of energy from running around and playing all afternoon. So he sat flatly on his butt with his head hanging down and his legs sprawled out in front of him. He daydreamed of Wyntre, of the crash of the ship.
A single name drifted in his consciousness as he stared at a particular crack in a tile.
Brisk Cold.
The child eventually flopped onto his back, letting his arms spread out to his sides and his tail slip out from between his legs. It was a bit uncomfortable for the 7 year old to lie on his back, because his tail made it lumpy, but he was tired enough to lie down on a bed of nails at this point. "M-Miss you.." The child suddenly sniffled, memories of Wyntre and Zexama resurfacing out of nowhere. Within moments the child was in tears again, quietly sobbing. Cupping his hands over his face, the boy curled up so he was no larger than a pillow and rolled onto his side.
"Notification:" an unknown voice gargled, harsh with static distortion and a robotic sag, "Priority: One. Transmission incoming from: Palace Arcose."
Immediately, the sleepy child was on his feet, and eyes wide with innocent curiosity, he waddled over to the control panel where the sound was coming from. The boy was too short to reach the controls or look at the screen, so he scooted over a chair and used it as a step as he scrambled onto the flat control panel.
Now looking down, the child saw that there was no video feed for the transmission, but the high quality audio connection was being established. "͠Pęopl̡e̴ of͜ A͜r̴c҉osȩ,͜ an̶d ̧th̕e̡ ̸Ȩm̵p̧i̛ŕe," the cold but firm voice began, causing Brisk to jerk with surprise. After his initial shock, the boy pressed his ear up to the control panel, hoping to hear more closely where the voice was coming from. Was there someone inside the panel, or was it talking like a scouter!?
"H̨e̴e̢d ͘my͟ w̵or̸ds." Brisk was relatively certain that the voice was talking to him like a scouter now. Brisk knew because it sounded kind of tinny and static and he knew that real people voices didn't sound like that. He felt pretty darn smart for figuring it out, actually. "T̕hȩ ͠Fal̨s͠ę ͠Empe͜ro͝r ha͡s̨ ̡fa͡l̴l͢en in͠ com͡ba͢t. ̀H͠e͡ ͘w̴as͜ ́c͏h̡al͟l̢eng͡ed f͢or ̢h͢i̕s҉ posi͠ti̵o҉n͞ ̛a̴nd͏ fel͝l̕.̧ ͢He fo̡ugh̸t̸ lo͠ng͝ an̶d͡ ̵h̢ar̛ḑ.͡ ̷Hono͏rab̵ly̵ ́e͘v͘e̕n.̷ ͘Bu͠t h͡è has f͡ąĺle̴n t̕o̵ my͡ ̵h̀a̷n͝dş." Brisk's eyes widened. This was a message from Wyntre's friend!? This person knew that there was a bad Emperor who didn't like Wyntre on arcose, and he had helped out Wyntre by fighting him! But Brisk was a little bit skeptical. After all… He was just on Arcose with his mother, and she told him it was a grave yard!!!
"͟Th҉e h̸and̡s ̸of͢ y͞ou͞r͢ new̶ Em̨p͞e̶ro̸r̴. Tḩe҉ ́E̸m̶pire'́s ҉Re͘ig̡n ̷ha̢s ͘b͡eèn ẃea͏k th͏a͘t ̴pas͢t few͠ g̷e͞n̸era̛tio̢n͠s, a̴n̨d́ ҉t͝he ͡lo҉s͠s óf ̸our ͏ho͘m̢e ̀p̨l̡an͠e͞t͟ d̡i͘dn̕'͠t͞ màk̨e it ͘ea͜sier͏." Brisk was confused now. Wasn't the robot just talking about how he had saved Arcose from people trying to kill Wyntre!! How did he be the Emperor if Wyntre was already the Empress?
"Un҉d̶èr ͘my ́Rule we wiļl҉ ̛r͢e̴bui͞l̷d̡, and on͠c̢e a̡g̡a͞in ͜grow͞ ͞i̧n͡to the m̛ighty̕ ͟E҉m͟p͜i͠re ̀w͘e ̛w͠ere͜.͝ ͢I̴ ̶wil̛l ́lead̀ us t̷ò ҉a̶ ̵n̢e͝w ̀a͞n͏d̷ gl̨o͝rious ͞G҉ol͞de̵n Age͠." Brisk now pulled his head away from the control panel. He made the brave jump down from the panel to the stool he had pushed over, and sat down on it, putting on his best space captain thinking face. If he wanted to make it better… Was that why he called Brisk? Because he knew that Brisk was the only one who could be as smart as Wyntre!? "I can help!!!" Brisk shouted back to the transmission, but the voice ignored him.
"Ou͟r Pe͡o̡p̶l͡e,̛ ͠Our̕ ͠For̸ce͟s̀, Ou͞r͢ ͞Pros͞ṕe͏r͞i͟ty. Al͡l of͘ ́t͏h̴e͢m̶ ҉will҉ R͠e̴ac͟h new ͘h̴e̸ig̨ht́s nót̸ ͜y̕et͠ a̸c͡h̀i̴e͞v̸e͡d b͏e͠for̨e. ͞S͜o͟ a͡llo͟w m͝e̕ to gu̢i̢de you to͏ ͘t̡hi̸s̸ P͏r̢om͞i͢s̨e͡ h͠o҉w͡ev͢er I͏ c͡an̴.͞ ̸Al͏l ha̵i̴l̴ ͢t҉he͠ Arco͡s̨ia͜n̢ Em̸p̴ir̛e͘.̷̷̀͢͠... Á̡Ļ̵L̵͏̶ ̡͟H̸͠A̵͘Į̴̸͢L͏҉̷ ̨E̶͢͠͡Ḿ̵͡P̧͡͡Ę͝͞͝R̵͢͞͞O͠R̡͘͢͝ ̕͟͡Ŗ̨̀̕E͏T̵̷Ś̵U̷͏!̧҉" The transmission shut out suddenly and Brisk was left again with only his thoughts. He scrunched up his face real tight and began knocking on his crystal dome gently with his fists from either side, rocking his head back and forth. Was Restu the bad Emperor? Or was he the one helping Wyntre? And did they know that Brisk was Wyntre's special apprentice? And could they hear him or what!?
Brisk decided he would talk to this voice once and for all. Jumping back up on the control panel, Brisk began pressing buttons and flipping switches in silly little patterns. Up, down, up, down… And finally he pressed the top three buttons, then a middle one, and two in the bottom left corner. Maybe that would tell the voice that he was the best space pirate to help save Wyntre..!
Meanwhile, as the control panel blinked fervently, the ship prepared a transmission, automatically addressed to the original source of the last broadcast received.
On Arcose, Lord Retsu would soon receive a very strange request… A distress signal from the battleship of none other than Wyntre Cold herself.