(Untitled)
In the beginning, it was a nice day.
This is a word which here means 'pleasing', 'agreeable', or 'delightful', so it may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, to hear the day described as such, given the situation in Milliways these past two weeks. But then, 'nice' is such a relative term, don't you agree? And certainly it would be difficult for ( Read more... )
This is a word which here means 'pleasing', 'agreeable', or 'delightful', so it may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, to hear the day described as such, given the situation in Milliways these past two weeks. But then, 'nice' is such a relative term, don't you agree? And certainly it would be difficult for ( Read more... )
(Not much. There isn't much left.)
The grounds are not quiet - the battle outside Milliways continues to rage, nearer and then farther, from simply loud to almost deafening; the bar and the forest and the earth itself continue to tremble when the combatants draw too near; and under all, the low, teeth-gritting hummmmm of power emanating from the two silver hemispheres.
But it's quieter. Much of the bustle and chaos now is inside the bar, where patrons are scrambling to evacuate, one way or another. There aren't many left outside to notice one more sound.
First, it's a jingle, tinny and distant. A thin clinking, a jarring clanking.
Then it's a jangle, steely and close, and then it's a thudthudthudthud of footsteps thudthudthudthudthud more footsteps, lots more footsteps thudthudthudTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD -
First one spills out, then two, then five, small-scaly-green, and spidery-black-wrong, and armour and teeth and rust, and then there are fifteen of them, twenty, pouring out of the open Darkgate, and then ( ... )
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Cy lifts both hands. The sonic cannons shift into place. The white noise begins.
And Cy offers a silent prayer to a God he doesn't turn that often, and hopes that this time, like the day when it was five Titans against Trigon for all the world, God is on his side.
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"Oh, dear...that doesn't look good at all."
Yeah, that slight grin on his face has kind of disappeared.
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"Agh! Please! I'm too beautiful to die!"
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Uh-oh.
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"If only I hadn't given away that potato!" he laments to nobody in particular.
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"Get inside. Try to get to a door. We'll hold them off. I promise." Not that he can speak for anyone else, mind you.
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He sprints into the Bar. Hopefully, it'll be safer in there.
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That makes it worth it, monsters and all.
"BOOYAH!"
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Oh wait.
No there isn't. There's a biggish goblin corpse, in several pieces.
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Whatever it was, it moved really, really fast. Not Kid Flash fast, but more than usual fast.
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"Hi Cyborg!"
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She seems thoroughly delighted at the opportunity.
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Assuming there IS a later.
He revs up his blasters again and points them over Nepata, and at a small circling flock of airborne eldritch horrors.
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