[VIDEO] Episode 1: In which there is a curious lack of lack of crocodiles

[angel_junk]

[The monitor is dark. A growling sound. A man screaming. Glass breaking.

SUDDENLY VISUALS!A hand fumbling with the transmission screen, wild flailing, too fast to make out

Comments

[VIDEO]

[angel_junk]

[Bhamba is at the other end of the room now, standing on a metal table, the crocodile directly under him.]

A sword? I haven't been to Medieval Fight Club in years!

[Sensible as Cohen's advice may be, he is reluctant to take it. At first, at least, but new developments soon prompt him to reconsider. New developments being the crocodile pushing itself upwards, knocking over Bhamba's table, trapping him between the closet and the reptile

[VIDEO]

[angel_junk]

[Bhamba is not looking. Pity, I bet he would've loved that part of the show.

A few minutes later he will have stopped rambling, turn to the screen and briefly wonder where the odd mime has gone.

He will quickly shrug it off however and start attempting to drag the unconscious crocodile into his bathroom.]

[ACTION (YOU SAW NOTHING)]

[presto_presto]

[Cohen has to poof down the corridor a bit to actually reach the nine hundreds conserve EVE? what do you take him for, a practical man?, but once he gets there he takes the floors at the teleportational equivalent of a run. A cloud of gore gathers just inside Bhamba's door, and as soon as his hands form Cohen flings a fireball across the already crocodile damaged room.

...and then his eyes form an instant later, giving him the coveted ability to actually aim.]

[ACTION (SAW IT, TOOK A PICTURE OF IT AND SOLD IT TO WILKINS)]

[angel_junk]

[Cohen, for the record, will be Bhamba's second visitor, just so you know that the poor crocodile has been moved to the bathroom in order to avoid traumatising images.

Speaking of traumatising images, Bhamba is happily mopping his lab when a fireball rushes past his head, barely missing the scientist, but severely damaging his mop.

Bhamba jumps back and with a mix of shock, horror and morbid curiosity he slowly turns his gaze from his smoldering mop-remains towards the source of the fireball.

When he sees an upset-looking yet unarmed mime standing in his door his horror quickly turns into confusion and his verbal reaction is suitably poignant and concise.]

...huh?

[ACTION (Why would Wilkins be interested? It's not dead.)]

[presto_presto]

[An upset-looking yet unarmed mime whose hands are black with ash, glowing like lava at the veins and fingertips, and painfully contorted.]

There you are!

[Have another fireball.]

[ACTION (Well, yes, but it's been in poor health for the past few weeks so I thought...)]

[angel_junk]

[HA! SO YOU ADMIT HE'S A MIME!

...Imeanuh, yeah, now that you mention it, that does look suspicious. In fact, Bhamba was just wondering what that was all about when-]

Ah!!

[-it is explained to him with the helpful visual aid of another fireball which he only manages to dodge by sheer lumb luck that has him tripping over a beaker on the floor the moment he recoils from the projectile.

Sitting on the ground now his expression is of course one of complete and utter-]

That was incredible! How did you do that?

[...awe?! Well. Uhm. Better late than never I suppose.]

[ACTION (...that you could pull the wool over his eyes? Good man. Woman. Subject line.)]

[presto_presto]

[I'm sure he could do mime if he particularly wanted to, what with him being a genius with every art form ever.

...Apparently Bhamba's scientific curiosity doubles as a survival instinct. Because Cohen was clicking his burning fingers to gather a second fireball, but he hears the man's reaction and pauses at the last minute. regarding him with narrowed eyes. His hand continues to blaze like a Bunsen burner. Warily:]

Is this an attempt to mock me?

[It doesn't sound like one, but Bhamba has disappointed him once before!]

[ACTION (Oh please, subject-line-esque entity is fine.)]

[angel_junk]

[On the one hand Bhamba's admiration of anything and anybody that destructive is, was and always will be, perfectly sincere. On the other hand - Cohen's hand, to be specific - there is a fiery death looming ahead that makes him feel pressured towards avoiding a wrong answer at all costs and awe or not, admiration can only mask so much of your impending doom.]

N-no?

[ACTION]

[presto_presto]

[Cohen's stare ever-so-slowly softens into something flattered, though it still has a hard edge to it. You're still an asshole, Bhamba, but he'll take your admiration.]

This...

[He relaxes his fingers, lets the flames dissipate, although the plasmid is still active and so his hands still look like something a volcano barfed out.]

...is one of my lesser skills. Not my true destination, but something picked up by the roadside as I hurry there.

[ACTION]

[angel_junk]

Lesser skills?

[Bhamba pictures buildings crumbling and the ever-elusive man exploding from the inside. He is going to be severely disappointed if he finds out that the rest is just art shmart.

For now, partially because he sees this as a good chance at avoiding his future BBQing and partially because he really wants to touch those hands, Bhamba gets up and takes a tentative step towards the artist.]

How does it work?

[ACTION]

[presto_presto]

[He's about to say something like 'do I look like a scientist to you' - because dismissing people's occupations is a-okay when Cohen's not on the receiving end! - but if this is what gets Bhamba interested in him, this is what he's going to play up.]

Genetic modification. To improve my body beyond that of ordinary humans.

[ACTION]

[angel_junk]

[Gosh, thanks for that info. That's like asking what you had for dinner and getting 'food' as a reply. Mocking people's lack of precise scientific knowledge is usually a-okay with Bhamba, but he suspects that not doing so here will likely increase his chance of not getting grilled, so that's how he's going to play it.]

Where... where did you have this done? Digivation can barely get plates to catch fire, let alone humans...

[ACTION]

[presto_presto]

[Oh boy, did Bhamba just do fear-induced reluctance to criticize? He did, didn't he? Oh gosh, Cohen's so missed that! ^_____^]

Oh - a souvenier of the city I once called my home. [This is boring. More showing off!] If it's plasmids that interest you - did you witness my arrival?

[ACTION]

[angel_junk]

I know my mop did.

[Quick glance at the poor cleaning utensil. OH MOP BOB, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU?! *Ahem* Anyway, that was supposed to be a no. No, beyond Cohen's giant flaming balls he did not notice a thing.]

[ACTION]

[presto_presto]

[Hey, Cohen's giant flaming balls are strictly between himself and whatever young men he happens to intimidate.]

Then watch.

[Rinse and repeat that wonderful teleport sequence - although this time it's a lot more theatrical, with a raised chin and dramatically outstretched arms, and instead of the doorway Cohen reappears right behind Bhamba with a faint rushing of sound.]

[ACTION]

[angel_junk]

[Step 1: Blink in confusion as Cohen disappears.
Step 2: Wait, is there something behind m-
Step: 3: GAH!!!
Step 4: Turning around, toppling backwards a bit.
Step 5: Pause.
Step 6: Appropriate and elaborate voicing of approval]