(no subject)
*The first event is Vergil Sparda executing a sudden and elegant leap from within the humongous green pipe that which devoured our heroes last time we saw them. Soaring through the air like a bird in flight, he lands on the ground seemingly none the worse for wear and with no particular change in attire, save for a bag of sports goods slung over his shoulder which he immediately starts to rummage through in the hopes of finding something.
Far less fortunate is the one after him, as Brook exits the pipe to the accompaniement of a revving engine. The observant camper may notice that the seven-to-eight foot tall skeleton is stuck inside a far too small go-kart and that not only is he comically unable to control said go-kart while in mid-air, when he lands he careens right into a tree. The resulting crash is both humiliating and extremely painful for all those involved.
Faust reentry is not much to speak of, truth to be told it’s all rather flat. Literally. The good doctor may have lacked sanity but one cannot accuse him of lacking depth, up until now that is. The man is simply put flat as a paper, and none to happy to slowly flutter downwards completely at the mercy of the winds. Or at least, until he learns to fold himself into shapes that allow him some measure of control over his direction, that is.
And last, but most certainly not least, the pipe’s walls budge outwards as though it was made of rubber, not steel, and with a sound that can only be described as a person ejecting a most mighty loogie a 20-feet tall eight year old is discharged from the pipe at a terrifying speed, going up and crashing down with a mighty sound that can easily be heard all throughout the camp. And while the counselors proceed to flail and panic over their incapacitated state and thus, by extension, their inability to do anything about the far too excited toddler crashing through the woods and nearby houses, the halfdemon, who by now has tossed out a small hill’s worth of golf clubs, baseball bats, tennis raquets and other assorted tools from his bag before finding his sword casually walks up to the deaged elf and quickly and mercilessly takes it to the young boys shin, prompting the not-so-little elf to shrink back to a more manageable size. And thus, all is well.
Of course, this heartless assault on what IS still a young child does prompt the skeleton to produce a spikeadorned, blue turtleshell and hurl it at the halfdemon, who promptly starts running as fast as he can from the homing, merciless missile.
All in all, it's just a regular Saturday afternoon in camp.*
[[Evening all. I'm back. May be slow due to reconnecting with these voices. Missed you all like crazy.]]