(no subject)
Who: Cyrus and whoever
What: Everyone's favorite messiah-complexed maniac has been reverted to seven years old! Will hilarity ensue?
Where: The ~island~
When: July 22nd, a few hours after arriving
Warnings: Maybe some swearing, I donno.
Well, it was just one thing after another this week.
First, Cyrus had been set upon by a fiery spirit, then threatened by another, then forced away from his extraction machine by the lesser of the Hands to go to some forsaken island with the rest of the faculty and student body.
And then he had gone exploring. There were abandoned ruins about, of some ancient civilization of which he knew nothing, and he had to know more. What did they know of the world? What could they tell him of the ancient world?
As it turned out, not much. But it could tell him an awful lot about how much the world in general was against him, as he wound up suddenly...shorter.
A lot shorter. And wearing something that seemed almost familiar.
It had been something he wore as a child, in one of his attempts to fit in. In retrospect it looked somewhat like his Galactic uniform, and when that occured to him, he started to shake.
Was he...sad? How could he feel this way?
Looking into a pool of water, he saw something he never expected to see again--his own childish, crying face.
How could this be? Wiping at his eyes, he thought about it. At that age, he hadn't tempered his emotions yet.
He sniffed, wondering how this would affect his goal, and hoping no one would run into him in this condition.
At least as a child, he could continue to work. But not if he was hampered by emotion.
Resuming his normal blank expression, he sat there for a while, staring out at the sky. Trying to figure out how he had suddenly regressed in age was the least of his worries.
What: Everyone's favorite messiah-complexed maniac has been reverted to seven years old! Will hilarity ensue?
Where: The ~island~
When: July 22nd, a few hours after arriving
Warnings: Maybe some swearing, I donno.
Well, it was just one thing after another this week.
First, Cyrus had been set upon by a fiery spirit, then threatened by another, then forced away from his extraction machine by the lesser of the Hands to go to some forsaken island with the rest of the faculty and student body.
And then he had gone exploring. There were abandoned ruins about, of some ancient civilization of which he knew nothing, and he had to know more. What did they know of the world? What could they tell him of the ancient world?
As it turned out, not much. But it could tell him an awful lot about how much the world in general was against him, as he wound up suddenly...shorter.
A lot shorter. And wearing something that seemed almost familiar.
It had been something he wore as a child, in one of his attempts to fit in. In retrospect it looked somewhat like his Galactic uniform, and when that occured to him, he started to shake.
Was he...sad? How could he feel this way?
Looking into a pool of water, he saw something he never expected to see again--his own childish, crying face.
How could this be? Wiping at his eyes, he thought about it. At that age, he hadn't tempered his emotions yet.
He sniffed, wondering how this would affect his goal, and hoping no one would run into him in this condition.
At least as a child, he could continue to work. But not if he was hampered by emotion.
Resuming his normal blank expression, he sat there for a while, staring out at the sky. Trying to figure out how he had suddenly regressed in age was the least of his worries.