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Post by Seven on May 1, 2009 19:09:32 GMT -5
"Then again, I suppose all of these things could depend entirely on a person-to-person basis. And while I'd love to continue conversing with you, it seems my friend has fainted. Thank you for this delightful debate." Thrasymachus nods to Tir, then turns around, kneeling beside Quentin.
"Quentin...Quentin, wake up," he says in his ever droll monotone, those it hides a bit of sympathy.
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Post by Rojo on May 2, 2009 15:17:16 GMT -5
"Righto!" Tir pips, spinning around very quickly and peering off into the distance "now where has that zombie fellow gotten off to?" He peers off into the distance with one hand placed on hi brow despite there being no sun and himself being upside-down.
Quentin stirs a little.
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Post by Seven on May 3, 2009 11:25:35 GMT -5
Devon looks up at him. "Rojo? Do you know where he's at?" The nobleman is quite anxious to hear news of his oddball friend.
Thrasymachus persists, putting his arm beneath Quentin's back so he is at a slight inclination rather than flat on his back. "Come~ it is time to awaken~" he says in an almost melodic tune.
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Post by Rojo on Jul 12, 2009 15:59:29 GMT -5
Tir swivels around to stare at Devon, grinning inanely.
"Do I know 'where he's at'? Funny language for a noble from a Fantasy setting...heh...imaging that...but I suppose I'd better stop grinning inanely and talking to myself and answer your question. Yes, I do know where he is. He's in a somewhat..." the djinni spins around 324 degrees before pointing slightly to the left of himself "that way-ish direction."
Meanwhile, the millionaire playboy superhero (because that's never been done before, right boys and girls?) lazily opens one eye then closes it.
"Father? Must we chop more wood? I'm still tired out from milking the pigs..." he murmurs sleepily, evidently not aware that Thrasymachus is not his father at all.
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Post by Seven on Jul 19, 2009 21:34:15 GMT -5
Thrasymachus looks around, then up. "Really? Really? We're going to continue this now after all this time? I'm completely off my track now!" Thrasymachus complains petulantly. Then he clears his throat and drops it as though it never happened.
Bending back down by Quentin, Thrasymachus nudges him and says in a stern voice. "Well tough. You live in my house, you live by my rules," he continues this delusional charade for no particular reason other than that he can.
Devon starts to smile a tad bit awkwardly as he looks at Tir. "Well then...my fine Sir," he says, briefing over Tir's comments, "I best be going then...Rojo probably needs...erm...something. Pleasant....time." He was vaguely confused as to which time of day he should refer to. It wasn't morning, afternoon, evening, or night for any matter.
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Post by Rojo on Jul 20, 2009 10:06:00 GMT -5
Tir stares at Thrasymachus.
"Oi, watch it, Guardy-man or whatever you are. Don't want to go imploding the universe again by breaking this wall here." He points directly at the reader, then (might as well while it's there) read the post directly above that concerned Devon. "Oh, I'd just wait here. He'll be arriving in about...12 seconds holding a large rope." Tir said, looking somewhere over Devon's shoulder.
"But father, I'm going to America to meet mother tommorow, I must protest that I prepare," he paused "sir." Quentin yawned and pulled some imaginary covers over his head.
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Post by Seven on Jul 20, 2009 11:06:08 GMT -5
Thrasymachus rolls his eyes. "I don't know, djinn. I rather liked imploding the universe," he adds offhandedly. Then he shakes Quentin. "Seriously, wake up. I'm tired of this charade and I'm not here to psychoanalyze your childhood dilemmas and these 'Daddy' insecurities."
"Oh, really?" Devon asks, brow slightly furrowed. He was really hoping for the chance to make an escape. "Well, I best be waiting then..." he gently lowers himself to the floor to be seated, crossing one leg over the other.
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Post by Rojo on Jul 21, 2009 9:27:05 GMT -5
Quentin grins and opens one eye.
"A-ha ha...you think I'd be like that? I've been awake for a while now, I just wanted to see how far you'd run with it..." he seems not to have remembered he's missing his arm.
Tir is still staring at something over Devon's shoulder. He starts to float backwards very quickly.
"Oh, I wouldn't bother, he's about to collide with yo-"
There was a noise similar to that of a large shell hitting a wall made of dirt. Parts of the ground were thrown onto the collective, dirt flying everywhere and on everyone (Apart from Tir. The dirt just...decided not to hit him) smoke arose from the small crater created and a long rope lay next to it. There was a moment of suspense, then a gloved hand roughly pushed itself up through the earth and reached towards the sk-..well, the endless whiteness in perfectly cliched zombie style. Then it broke the pose and started flapping around, grasping for something to pull its owner up with.
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Post by Seven on Jul 22, 2009 12:06:37 GMT -5
"Yes yes, same to you," Thrasymachus says to Quentin dismissively. "Now the adults have to talk," he adds in, for good measure. He missed the part where Tir mentioned that there'd be a crater in a couple of seconds. Poor Devon never had the chance to defend himself. Hence, the impact obliterates, turning him into a pile of shimmering pixie dust (he can't turn into normal ash after all; he's the dashing, princely noble after all) with only his fine courtly hat left to cover his cremation.
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Post by Rojo on Jul 22, 2009 12:31:09 GMT -5
Tir floats over to the little hat sitting neatly (it's Devon, after all, how could it sit not neatly?) on the pile of pixie dust and stares at it.
"Alas, the death of a noble. How quaint. Well, not really, but I like saying the word quaint. It sounds like some sort of bird only found in big gloomy forests." And with that he floats away with narry a worry, whistling as he spins aimlessly.
Quentin blinks and stares at the area where everything important seems to be happening.
"Did...did that man just explode?" He asks in bewilderment.
There comes muffled yelling from the crater. The hand waves around frantically.
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Post by Seven on Jul 25, 2009 11:49:15 GMT -5
Thrasymachus blinks oddly, not minding that he's covered in soot. "I believe so....either that, or it was the impact that obliterated him. Or perhaps the impact caused him to explode. In either case, he's certainly dead."
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Post by Rojo on Jul 25, 2009 14:23:34 GMT -5
Suddenly the hand freezes and there is a muffled gasp, then the hand turns in Thrasymachus's direction and gives him a "whatchu talkin' 'bout Willis?" look.
Quentin blinks.
"I do not know how it did that." He says in utter bewilderment.
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Post by Seven on Jul 25, 2009 14:27:23 GMT -5
Thrasymachus shrugs to Quentin before facing Rojo's 'hand' again. "Simple. One way or another, you killed that blonde, noble kid with a hat."
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Post by Rojo on Jul 25, 2009 14:30:01 GMT -5
The hand does a hand-gasp. Then it points at the djinni and pulls it over with a magic force so quick Tir doesn't expect it. The hand glares at him.
"What?"
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Post by Seven on Jul 25, 2009 14:47:49 GMT -5
Thrasymachus just watches silently, wondering what the hand is going to do next. He wonders absent-mindedly if that fool of Red was still connected to that poor little hand.
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