RE: [I/OOC] Incidental Bits
01-29-2019, 01:34 AM (This post was last modified: 01-29-2019, 02:52 PM by Labster.)
01-29-2019, 01:34 AM (This post was last modified: 01-29-2019, 02:52 PM by Labster.)
Arc 4:
"What's quakening–" The redheaded girl began shrinking down, collapsing into her smaller form in a couple second. "Quack," said the yellow ducking.
"Crap, antimagic." Brent declared, "This is not good. There's no way we could beat them without magic." He scooped up the duck and started a hasty retreat through the steely halls of the spaceship.
"Qua… quack-quack-quack-qua-quack!" Entchen warned.
"Yeah, I know they're faster than me." Brent darted through a steel door. Not having any way to lock it, he went for the old standby, pulling a knife from his pocket and slamming it into the door control keypad. The lock sparked, sputtered, then smoked, disabling the door.
Entchen gestured around the room with her left wing. "Qua–" A storage bay, and a dead end. The metallic din outside the door grew even louder.
"What's the chance there's a plasma rifle in the crates? These guys don't seem to big on OSHA rules." But he never got the answer to that question, as a spot in the door started to glow red, then begin to cut through the door.
"Okay, new plan. Let's get out of here. Some magic can't be suppressed; it's written into spacetime itself." As the cutting torch was halfway through its giant loop through the bay doors, Brent told the duck, "Sorry about this," and began reciting:
"Through the darkness of future's past
The magician longs to see
One chants out between two worlds
Fire, walk with me!"
The storage bay doors blasted open, but there was no one inside.
In another place entirely, two people regained awareness. It seemed like a very well lit room, yet all that illuminated them from above was mere starlight. Long red curtains hung all round them, and a matching plush red sofa lay on the checkerboard floor.
Sitting on this sofa were one human man, Brent Laabs, and one duckling, Entchen. They were alone in the room, and looked around, not knowing what they were looking for.
And then, there was a pretty blonde girl in a chair, sitting beside the couch as if it had always been there. She spoke, her voice garbled as if she was speaking backwards, "You are a bird, but you are not a bird." Her voice was somehow perfectly intelligible to Brent and Entchen.
Entchen slowly lifted her wings, then folded them back into place. She turned to face the girl and quacked, "It's complicated." This too, was understood by all in the room.
"You are a dancer. You will dance with me?" The duckling turned to look over, and nodded up and down four times. In a blink, Entchen was standing, facing the girl who looked like Laura Palmer.
Brent watched the pair, dancing a slow ballet to haunting jazz. The dancers looked like a perfect mirror each other's actions, except one was a girl but not a girl, and the other was a duck but not a duck. He complained, "This place, every single time."
"What's quakening–" The redheaded girl began shrinking down, collapsing into her smaller form in a couple second. "Quack," said the yellow ducking.
"Crap, antimagic." Brent declared, "This is not good. There's no way we could beat them without magic." He scooped up the duck and started a hasty retreat through the steely halls of the spaceship.
"Qua… quack-quack-quack-qua-quack!" Entchen warned.
"Yeah, I know they're faster than me." Brent darted through a steel door. Not having any way to lock it, he went for the old standby, pulling a knife from his pocket and slamming it into the door control keypad. The lock sparked, sputtered, then smoked, disabling the door.
Entchen gestured around the room with her left wing. "Qua–" A storage bay, and a dead end. The metallic din outside the door grew even louder.
"What's the chance there's a plasma rifle in the crates? These guys don't seem to big on OSHA rules." But he never got the answer to that question, as a spot in the door started to glow red, then begin to cut through the door.
"Okay, new plan. Let's get out of here. Some magic can't be suppressed; it's written into spacetime itself." As the cutting torch was halfway through its giant loop through the bay doors, Brent told the duck, "Sorry about this," and began reciting:
"Through the darkness of future's past
The magician longs to see
One chants out between two worlds
Fire, walk with me!"
The storage bay doors blasted open, but there was no one inside.
In another place entirely, two people regained awareness. It seemed like a very well lit room, yet all that illuminated them from above was mere starlight. Long red curtains hung all round them, and a matching plush red sofa lay on the checkerboard floor.
Sitting on this sofa were one human man, Brent Laabs, and one duckling, Entchen. They were alone in the room, and looked around, not knowing what they were looking for.
And then, there was a pretty blonde girl in a chair, sitting beside the couch as if it had always been there. She spoke, her voice garbled as if she was speaking backwards, "You are a bird, but you are not a bird." Her voice was somehow perfectly intelligible to Brent and Entchen.
Entchen slowly lifted her wings, then folded them back into place. She turned to face the girl and quacked, "It's complicated." This too, was understood by all in the room.
"You are a dancer. You will dance with me?" The duckling turned to look over, and nodded up and down four times. In a blink, Entchen was standing, facing the girl who looked like Laura Palmer.
Brent watched the pair, dancing a slow ballet to haunting jazz. The dancers looked like a perfect mirror each other's actions, except one was a girl but not a girl, and the other was a duck but not a duck. He complained, "This place, every single time."
"Kitto daijoubu da yo." - Sakura Kinomoto