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+--- Thread: Day 10, Week 1 - Testing Limits (/showthread.php?tid=3691)
Day 10, Week 1 - Testing Limits - Corporal Light - 02-04-2016
Ballad opened his eyes, staring up into the overwhelming whiteness of the Nexus. He brought his right hand up to his forehead, squinting as he pinched the brim of his nose. His head no longer felt like it had been crushed between two slabs of ice, which was a plus. However, his eyes burned looking at the illogically colorless realm he was in. Even after more than a week of exposure to real, natural light, he had still not gotten used to it.
"Your soma's light-receptors are comparable to an adolescent's, kindred spirit. It is understandable, however, given your natural habitat." The gunner spoke to himself, sliding his hand over his eyes. He waited for a few moments as if expecting something to happen.
"No response...." He muttered, pushing himself off of the ground. Apparently, mere insults to the anatomical nature of his form was not a trigger for him. He did indeed have limits to his temper.
The gunsmith looked down, rubbing his hands over himself. He caressed his torso, feeling the soft leather of his green jacket before moving towards his pants. He curled his toes inside his black snow boots, breathing in through the crimson fabric barrier around his nose and mouth. Finally, he rubbed the top of his head, pinching the trapper hat that surrounded it. He smiled behind his scarf, pulling on his coat before nodding in an appreciative manner.
"I must say, virescent one, you have a fine taste in raiment," He said, letting go of his attire and looking down at his gloved hand. Still nothing.
The soldier lowered his hand, lifting his chin up to stare at the fountain of the Nexus. The fountain wasn't actually much of a fountain, bearing more of a resemblance to a typical medieval church. It was tall, towering over everything else in the realm. Near the top was a bell that never appeared to move, and just below it was a circular stained-glass window. As Ballad gazed at the holy structure, lowering his gaze to the door, he saw a single marble pedestal. The pedestal was slightly short in height than himself and held a basin on the top of it. The copper bowl was filled to the top with water, with a sign hanging over it saying "Pour out your Holy Spirit, to bless this gift of water and those who receive it, to wash away their sin and clothe them in righteousness throughout their lives, that, dying and being raised with Christ, they may share in his final victory."
The gunsmith walked towards the bowl, grinning from ear to ear behind his scarf. He started to reach for the water, adjusting his eyes to look at the ornate sign above him.
His eyes turned white, smoke billowing out of his arm as he jerked his hand away.
At first, the gunner frowned, looking at his limb like it had literally formed a life of its own. His annoyance, however, was soon replaced by a genuine curiosity.
"I should not inquire into the nature of that reaction, should I?"
"No, you shouldn't. Kindly fuck right away from it, will you?"
"What colorful vernacular, companion. It's... interesting."
"Shut up," He whispered, his eye's switching from white to yellow as he turned around, walking away from the church building.
------------------------
Two hours later
As much as Ballad wanted to just stand still and look around to take notes on the surrounding region, he knew his other self would have an issue with it. Each time he stopped to even so much as take a breath, he felt his legs jerk forward, followed up by a puff of smoke, and he was back moving some more. It had gotten to the point where his legs were starting to feel sore, but he did not mind. In fact, he had to sit back and allow his friend to run the show and observe what he was doing. He occasionally provided directions, but aside from that, nothing occurred to him for the entirety of his travels.
Eventually, he reached the portal. It was massive, about the size of the Camelot portal. It was purple and swirling like a black hole. Around it was an archway made entirely out of ice. For a while, there was no noise as the gunsmith stared up at the portal, as if unsure as to whether or not he wanted to enter. The silence was broken, however, when he spoke up.
"I should run through the plan one more time, in the likelihood you end up forgetting?"
"Sure, whatever..." he muttered, his eyes reverting back to white a split second afterward.
"Good, it's rather straightforward in terms of a step-by-step scheme, but its execution is potentially complex. The first step, in all obviousness, is to reach the Frozen Fields."
"Get on with it..." He said, shaking his head in an exasperated manner.
"Now, the next step is to get the favor of the dwarves. Through them, we can try to remove the trolls from the Frozen Fields and end the war there. Are we clear?"
"As crystal, SPB. Now freaking move my body forward..."
"As you wish, my bonafide warrior." He responded in kind, quickly walking straight into the portal.