Tripping As Hard as He Can
Sep. 17th, 2010 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ceasetoexist[He’d barely gotten kept himself from pissing his pants the first time he saw it as it was now: a total field of red and black, mobile and immobile, stretching infinitely around him. It took every ounce of willpower not to wet himself this time upon seeing Giygas again. He would’ve questioned it, how it even got here, that it was impossible, but it clearly wasn’t. It felt just like it had when he’d first released Giygas from the Devil’s Machine: fluctuating between bitter cold and unbearable warmth, between utter quiet and ear-drum quaking sound…Nothing at all remained constant.
It shouldn’t be here. Giygas couldn’t be here.
But it was. And it was going to destroy everything in front of it, like it had been meant to.
Including him.
Pleading wouldn’t stop it. Bargaining wouldn’t stop it. The only thing he could do was run to the Phase Distorter and hope that might give him enough protection.
Might keep him safe while everything outside ended.]
[Hey Mayfield.
See pig-boy run. Run, pig-boy, run. Specifically, run incredibly clumsily, constantly looking over your shoulder and muttering and screaming either terrified gibberish or what sounds like pleas of “I’m sorry”, “I didn’t mean to”, or “Please don’t kill me” with the name “Giygas” occasionally thrown in there.
Like so many others, Pokey managed to get a whiff of the gas Luke had been carrying around, and now believes that an unperceivable psychic alien monster is slowly engulfing the town. Feel free to find him either
A) Running in terror, occasionally falling to the ground and willingly just crawling there as he looks behind him and babbles barely coherent apologies
B) Pokey has managed to get over your fence, thinking going through your yard will be a shortcut, and managed to get his dumb ass tripped up somehow, i.e. tangling his leg in a water hose or something ect.
C) If you’re on Ricardo Street, feel free to notice Pokey bumble his way back home, were he’ll immediately head for his Phase Distorter and sit in the cockpit, trying to curl himself up and looking positively terrified.]
It shouldn’t be here. Giygas couldn’t be here.
But it was. And it was going to destroy everything in front of it, like it had been meant to.
Including him.
Pleading wouldn’t stop it. Bargaining wouldn’t stop it. The only thing he could do was run to the Phase Distorter and hope that might give him enough protection.
Might keep him safe while everything outside ended.]
[Hey Mayfield.
See pig-boy run. Run, pig-boy, run. Specifically, run incredibly clumsily, constantly looking over your shoulder and muttering and screaming either terrified gibberish or what sounds like pleas of “I’m sorry”, “I didn’t mean to”, or “Please don’t kill me” with the name “Giygas” occasionally thrown in there.
Like so many others, Pokey managed to get a whiff of the gas Luke had been carrying around, and now believes that an unperceivable psychic alien monster is slowly engulfing the town. Feel free to find him either
A) Running in terror, occasionally falling to the ground and willingly just crawling there as he looks behind him and babbles barely coherent apologies
B) Pokey has managed to get over your fence, thinking going through your yard will be a shortcut, and managed to get his dumb ass tripped up somehow, i.e. tangling his leg in a water hose or something ect.
C) If you’re on Ricardo Street, feel free to notice Pokey bumble his way back home, were he’ll immediately head for his Phase Distorter and sit in the cockpit, trying to curl himself up and looking positively terrified.]
