You what what the really, really horrible thing about popcorn is? The absolutely worst possible in every single way thing? The one thing that, above all others, makes people cringe, and brings death and destruction upon the world
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Albel narrowed his eyes as someone moved past him at a positively ludicrous speed. Smelled like butter. Ah. That explained it; Albel himself had slid into the opposite wall when he was unpopcorned.
However, being freshly unpopcorned was, in Albel's mind, no excuse for disturbing him in his aimless walk around the castle. "What are you doing, fool?" he shouted after whoever-it-was.
"Trying to stop! I don't have any traction, and it's getting really hard to whoooooa!" As his feet go out from under him, he goes sliding down a hall and into a wall. "Owww."
Albel shook his head. Was that a twinge of sympathy he felt for the kid? He ambled over and gave him a hand up. "Same thing happened to me," he muttered gruffly.
Albel's lips moved slowly as he worked out what Bart meant. Supersonic travel hadn't been invented yet on Elicoor, and it had been old news in the rest of the galaxy by the time he got off-planet.
"Not that fast, no. Felt like it, though." He rubbed his head, although it'd probably been a good month since he'd shown up. "The name's Albel. Albel Nox."
Albel started to take the hand with his claw, then remembered and switched to his right hand. He still had to consciously remember to do that sometimes, even seven years later - he'd been left-handed. "Superhero? What's that?"
"Not when you've only got it because your real hand was burnt off," Albel muttered under his breath. People always seemed so fascinated. It wasn't as if prosthetics ought to be anything new to these people, really.
"Possibly. It might not make any difference when you arrive from; I know I'm from about eight hundred years in the future relative to now. And another planet." Why am I bothering being civil to this worm? Oh, well.
"Well, technically, I come from a thousand years in the future of now, but I've been living about seven years in the past of now, cause it's more fun, less issues, don't have to deal with the bad side of the family tree all that sort of thing."
Bart is having a hard time keeping still. He keeps zipping away, and back, for whole seconds at a time.
"The Federated planets? Oh, they're doing okay, now that they have the Legion to help them out. A'course, brainiac is just as ass." He mutters to himself. "M' not a monkey."
However, being freshly unpopcorned was, in Albel's mind, no excuse for disturbing him in his aimless walk around the castle. "What are you doing, fool?" he shouted after whoever-it-was.
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"Not that fast, no. Felt like it, though." He rubbed his head, although it'd probably been a good month since he'd shown up. "The name's Albel. Albel Nox."
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Bart is having a hard time keeping still. He keeps zipping away, and back, for whole seconds at a time.
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