Re: Epic Clash Round 2 - The Wax Colosseum
03-01-2010, 07:17 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by suomynonAyletamitlU.
The air swirled only lightly around Spender as he toured the arena, silently seeking... well, anything. He didn't like the mist; after the rising feel of Nightmare before, it brought back memories of a speckled black sea that swallowed more than ships. Flying, rather than standing, helped a great deal, but his hands itched every time he considered casting a sensor. Somehow, he didn't want to look at the statues, or the screens, until he calmed down a little.
Even so long afterwards, some scars don't heal.
He hadn't seen Michelle, though he meant to find her, as she and Mr. Nothing were the last big question marks on his dossier. Instead, he passed from one terrain zone to the next, and below him, the mist thinned a little bit, and a slight ting-ching, ting-ching drew his attention to a wobbly little bicycle. He descended almost silently, just close enough to spot the embodied glass bowl that rode it, and let out a little groan.
It was enough, and Glere's eyes swivelled on the bowl to look up at him, a pained grimace of abject joy scrawled below--no, to one side of them.
Glere moved from sitting to standing on the bicycle in an instant, and bowed over-elaborately, somehow keeping balance as the cycle rolled forwards. "A sky, a guy, a man of the moon! How do you see me, ye flying buffoon? Heehe--"
Spender flinched as Glere's bike smashed headfirst into a tree. Glere, with all the grace of a lawn ornament in a hurricane, managed to hit the trunk with his torso, letting his bowlhead tumble off into the grass further along, although Spender was fairly certain he heard glass breaking.
Spender brought himself in to hover not too far the man and his mangled vehicle, crossing his arms and looking down on the man as plainly as possible. Glere, cursing the bike, its manufacturer, and the arena's arborist to their own colorful hells, produced another head without a thought.
Spender, still appraising him, let his persona take over. He dropped down almost to ground level in the process of a low bow, then sprung back up in a faux backflip, almost vanishing into the mists before re-emerging. "Doctor Glereingston, I presume," he said with a mocking smile. "The man in the moon I may be, but I do believe it is the lunatic who loses his head for no reason." He swung close, still giving himself another head of height over the man, his eyes dark and measured in spite of his mannerisms. "And what manner of man is this otherwise transparent fellow, hm?"
EDIT: Crap, his post said "out of the forest"...
...well, I guess there are trees outside of the forest too [img]images/smilies/mspa_face.gif[/img]
The air swirled only lightly around Spender as he toured the arena, silently seeking... well, anything. He didn't like the mist; after the rising feel of Nightmare before, it brought back memories of a speckled black sea that swallowed more than ships. Flying, rather than standing, helped a great deal, but his hands itched every time he considered casting a sensor. Somehow, he didn't want to look at the statues, or the screens, until he calmed down a little.
Even so long afterwards, some scars don't heal.
He hadn't seen Michelle, though he meant to find her, as she and Mr. Nothing were the last big question marks on his dossier. Instead, he passed from one terrain zone to the next, and below him, the mist thinned a little bit, and a slight ting-ching, ting-ching drew his attention to a wobbly little bicycle. He descended almost silently, just close enough to spot the embodied glass bowl that rode it, and let out a little groan.
It was enough, and Glere's eyes swivelled on the bowl to look up at him, a pained grimace of abject joy scrawled below--no, to one side of them.
Glere moved from sitting to standing on the bicycle in an instant, and bowed over-elaborately, somehow keeping balance as the cycle rolled forwards. "A sky, a guy, a man of the moon! How do you see me, ye flying buffoon? Heehe--"
Spender flinched as Glere's bike smashed headfirst into a tree. Glere, with all the grace of a lawn ornament in a hurricane, managed to hit the trunk with his torso, letting his bowlhead tumble off into the grass further along, although Spender was fairly certain he heard glass breaking.
Spender brought himself in to hover not too far the man and his mangled vehicle, crossing his arms and looking down on the man as plainly as possible. Glere, cursing the bike, its manufacturer, and the arena's arborist to their own colorful hells, produced another head without a thought.
Spender, still appraising him, let his persona take over. He dropped down almost to ground level in the process of a low bow, then sprung back up in a faux backflip, almost vanishing into the mists before re-emerging. "Doctor Glereingston, I presume," he said with a mocking smile. "The man in the moon I may be, but I do believe it is the lunatic who loses his head for no reason." He swung close, still giving himself another head of height over the man, his eyes dark and measured in spite of his mannerisms. "And what manner of man is this otherwise transparent fellow, hm?"
Spoiler
...well, I guess there are trees outside of the forest too [img]images/smilies/mspa_face.gif[/img]