|Joined: June 21, 2017||Active Kith: Khronos|
|Birthday: Private||Kith Alliances: 4|
|I am: ya boy drax||Forum Posts: 2295|
|Call me: he/they||Website: bad writing|
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they were all... injured. and seriously, too. they felt a wave of guilt wash over them. what i’m good at is destroying. whatever hurt them, I could have killed it. i should have killed it, whatever it was. wait, a keycard? well, they could deal with that later. right now, they had other issues to attend to. they had healed once before, back in the caves with... someone who didn’t quite seem to exist in their mind anymore. but that was out of desperation, and it hadn’t exactly worked perfectly... nevertheless, they’d been useless so far. they had to help somehow. Horns was wrapping his shoulder with some strips off his shirt, and Plague Doctor was tending to the ginger kid’s injuries. However, the lady in the feathered mask looks like she took a couple hits to her arm, and even though Plague, M.D. was helping the kid, he didn’t look so good himself. They figured Dr. Plague was busy, so they awkwardly glided up to Feathers and tapped her on the shoulder. “If you need help with your arm... I think I might be able to heal it somewhat. I’m-“ their voice faltered a bit- “not sure, though.”
the last thing they remembered was spark asking beetle to get “that trigger-happy piece of shit” away from them, and then the oddly freeing thought that they were going to have to do this the hard way. but then they were back in a room that looked vaguely like a library, away from Beetly McBeetleface, and away from the world’s angriest geometry problem. they could hear noise (people talking?) from the other room. they were about to immediately get themselves over there as fast as possible, but the happenings in the dungeon had renewed their fears. they instead stepped out into the hallway, and paused for a moment to slow their frantic heartbeat. what if Just Shapes and Swear Words back in the dungeon had made a successful deal with beetle? what would they do then? well, in the words of a certain video game character, if this world chose to become their enemy, they would fight like they always had. with renewed courage, they glided toward the noise, entering the familiar hall of mirrors, and were relieved to see some familiar faces. that ginger kid, Horns, and the lady with the feathered mask were all there, though the latter seemed a bit beat up. there was also some guy in a... plague doctor mask? eh, if he was with the people they were with before, then he must be cool. “... am I interrupting something?”
".....Are you two.....working together?" he asked, "Is this a set-up? Are you....cheating?" oh no oH NO they had to blow it, didn’t they screw up the one chance they had to survive in this world by solving problems with explosions instead of using their head for something other than destruction for once “oh, it’s just a little blast, it’ll be fine.” boy, had they been wrong. but fear wasn’t going to help them right now. anger was. “I’m- I’m not teaming up with this guy here- in fact, I don’t even know who he is!” no. going on the defensive would only make him think they had something to hide. they needed some proof of their innocence that was a bit more... concrete. charging a blast on the tip of one finger, they loosed it with a subtle flick, praying that this wouldn’t hurt too much... aiming straight at Mr. Pretty Fly For A Butterfly.
”Anything fun in here?” “Nah, just a bunch of cheap plastic junk. Nothing worthwhile, and if there was, somebody would have caught it.” They waved a hand dismissively, causing one of the closer toys to short out with an electronic screech and a garbled bar of music. “And, no, I wasn’t looking for the ballroom. I am on a Quest of a rather important sort, but something went awry. Now I’m trapped here as well as separated from my fellow adventurers.” “Anyways, where to next? There’s nothing here but rubble and broken toys, and I don’t have time to stand around and look at them.” They looked around almost impatiently— continuing to eye the walls for any structural faults or suggestions that there might once have been a passage.
he/they and the big gay
IC: weirdo time wizard