03-08-2016, 10:48 PM
The thick-necked ruffian trembled as she dangled over the desert, her feet kick hundreds of feet in the air. Her panicked brown eyes glanced back down to the small specks of color on the vast sea of tumbling yellow dunes, almost not believing that she had been standing beside her wisecracking companions only a few moments before. The suddenness of the moment has jolted not only her senses but also her organs around in her body, so it was entirely possible that she voided her bowls for entirely anatomical reasons.
“No, no, no,” Sinestro scolded her, and a gleaming yellow clamp twisted her head back in his direction. “Eyes on me,” he commanded with a pompous coolness that somehow accentuated his control over the situation. “I have some questions for you.”
She simply stared at him from a moment, suspended by a claw of gleaming citrine around her shoulders, literally plucked from her life at a moment’s notice. The clamp tightened down on her face in the absence of a respose, pushing in on her puffy cheeks. “Whu-“ she stammered, “what are they?”
“Firstly, tell me what you and your friends are doing all the way out here on a path that leads to a black-market fence?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as the little specks below them frantically attempted to escape. “Would it have anything to do with that chopped-down speeder you’re dragging behind that camel?”
She swallowed hard, sweat already streaming down her face. She looked back down to her fleeing companions, and quickly weighed her options. “Yes sir, it does.”
The deputy smirked. “It’s good to hear some honesty now and then.” His face turned back to one of terrible neutrality. “Now…” the constructs that held her in the air flicked and she slipped a few inches, eliciting a quick yelp. “… Tell me what you’ve heard about Sasuke,” he said flatly, his tone conveying his absolute seriousness.
A genuine look of panic flushed the woman’s face, “What? Tell you what I know about who!?”
“Mm,” the red-skinned man said disappointedly, “A pity.”
The claw that held the thief aloft suddenly vanished, and Sinestro took off in a streak of gold after her friends as screamed, plummeting to the ground.
Sinestro’s eyes fell upon the man that had just wandered into the Nexus. He had a strange air about him, something about the way his eyes and face and demeanor lined up. There was a hardness covered with a thin layer of joviality, a friendliness that belied the hardness of his heart. It was a trait he had cultivated within himself and those who studied under him. That is until he became powerful enough to discard such trappings, in favor of the sheen of terror he had taken on by the beginning of the Corps Wars. But that was a different time, a different universe. Here, he was a different man, and he had to wear a different face.
“Thaal Sinestro,” he said calmly and extended his hand towards the stranger, all but ignoring the brute he had in tow.
The dark-haired man’s eyebrow quirked, and he returned the gesture. “Shang Tsung,” he replied with a strange smoothness. The two men shook, their grips firm and their eyes locked. They both learned something of the man they may have had to kill one day.
“Have you two come to join us against Sasuke?” the lantern inquired, turning to the towering Spartan.
The Grecian and Korugaran exchanged their greetings, and he grunted out, “Yes, we have come to… aid you.”
Sinestro’s mustache curled at the obvious implications of the ham-fisted lie. Though the titan didn’t seem to have as much of a radiant wit or air of cunning, his sheer mass and assumed physical prowess was enough to make him a fitting candidate for the Corps. In some ways he was reminded of Arkillo, the former second in command of his Corps: He wouldn’t be conquering the galaxy, but he could keep his ring charged on sheer mayhem and bloodshed if he had to.
Shang peered past the lithe alien and to the gathering crowd. “I assume the others are also here to help Mr. Smith?”
“Mm,” Sinestro asserted, “I assume. Some might be allies of New Babylon that heard of the ambush, but I doubt many of them are. Only an idiot would stay and fight against these kinds of odds.” The deputy rolled his discerning gaze over the crowd, “Others are here, I’m sure, to collect the powerful items he mentioned in his call to action.”
A smirk slid over Shang’s face. “I’m sure.”
Atelos looked upon the yellow-clad warrior and asked, “And why are you here? For the glory, or the prize?”
Sinestro’s yellow eyes darted to the giant of a man, “I’m here to finish what I started.” An image of the dunes appeared before the three of them, spinning gently as he spoke. “I have been on a campaign to bring peace and order to the people of the Endless Dunes. The rulers of Nippur have stood as an affront to that order, and our target is the last member of their dying house of treachery.” The image disappeared, and he shook his head slowly, “Only when we have claimed victory over him can I know that my people are safe.”
“A noble cause,” Shang interjected, “A goal similar to my own in this new land.” He paced around the image, peering down at it carefully. “The Omniverse is so… free of distractions, isn’t it? It seems as though we can truly focus on our aspirations, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sinestro nodded solemnly. “Yes. There is much less standing in the way of progress here, despite the abundance of Primes.” He rolled his fingers over each other, as if there was a grain of sand between them. “It is only a matter of time before a true calm takes root.”
Shang’s eyes narrowed at the red-skinned man’s words, the mind behind them whirring. “Indeed,” he agreed cordially, though unconvincingly. He nodded his head towards the gathering crowd, “I’d like to greet some of the others. Thank you for your time.”
Sinestro nodded curtly in response to the man’s even-handed response. He was always wary of the polite.
“No, no, no,” Sinestro scolded her, and a gleaming yellow clamp twisted her head back in his direction. “Eyes on me,” he commanded with a pompous coolness that somehow accentuated his control over the situation. “I have some questions for you.”
She simply stared at him from a moment, suspended by a claw of gleaming citrine around her shoulders, literally plucked from her life at a moment’s notice. The clamp tightened down on her face in the absence of a respose, pushing in on her puffy cheeks. “Whu-“ she stammered, “what are they?”
“Firstly, tell me what you and your friends are doing all the way out here on a path that leads to a black-market fence?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as the little specks below them frantically attempted to escape. “Would it have anything to do with that chopped-down speeder you’re dragging behind that camel?”
She swallowed hard, sweat already streaming down her face. She looked back down to her fleeing companions, and quickly weighed her options. “Yes sir, it does.”
The deputy smirked. “It’s good to hear some honesty now and then.” His face turned back to one of terrible neutrality. “Now…” the constructs that held her in the air flicked and she slipped a few inches, eliciting a quick yelp. “… Tell me what you’ve heard about Sasuke,” he said flatly, his tone conveying his absolute seriousness.
A genuine look of panic flushed the woman’s face, “What? Tell you what I know about who!?”
“Mm,” the red-skinned man said disappointedly, “A pity.”
The claw that held the thief aloft suddenly vanished, and Sinestro took off in a streak of gold after her friends as screamed, plummeting to the ground.
-----
Sinestro’s eyes fell upon the man that had just wandered into the Nexus. He had a strange air about him, something about the way his eyes and face and demeanor lined up. There was a hardness covered with a thin layer of joviality, a friendliness that belied the hardness of his heart. It was a trait he had cultivated within himself and those who studied under him. That is until he became powerful enough to discard such trappings, in favor of the sheen of terror he had taken on by the beginning of the Corps Wars. But that was a different time, a different universe. Here, he was a different man, and he had to wear a different face.
“Thaal Sinestro,” he said calmly and extended his hand towards the stranger, all but ignoring the brute he had in tow.
The dark-haired man’s eyebrow quirked, and he returned the gesture. “Shang Tsung,” he replied with a strange smoothness. The two men shook, their grips firm and their eyes locked. They both learned something of the man they may have had to kill one day.
“Have you two come to join us against Sasuke?” the lantern inquired, turning to the towering Spartan.
The Grecian and Korugaran exchanged their greetings, and he grunted out, “Yes, we have come to… aid you.”
Sinestro’s mustache curled at the obvious implications of the ham-fisted lie. Though the titan didn’t seem to have as much of a radiant wit or air of cunning, his sheer mass and assumed physical prowess was enough to make him a fitting candidate for the Corps. In some ways he was reminded of Arkillo, the former second in command of his Corps: He wouldn’t be conquering the galaxy, but he could keep his ring charged on sheer mayhem and bloodshed if he had to.
Shang peered past the lithe alien and to the gathering crowd. “I assume the others are also here to help Mr. Smith?”
“Mm,” Sinestro asserted, “I assume. Some might be allies of New Babylon that heard of the ambush, but I doubt many of them are. Only an idiot would stay and fight against these kinds of odds.” The deputy rolled his discerning gaze over the crowd, “Others are here, I’m sure, to collect the powerful items he mentioned in his call to action.”
A smirk slid over Shang’s face. “I’m sure.”
Atelos looked upon the yellow-clad warrior and asked, “And why are you here? For the glory, or the prize?”
Sinestro’s yellow eyes darted to the giant of a man, “I’m here to finish what I started.” An image of the dunes appeared before the three of them, spinning gently as he spoke. “I have been on a campaign to bring peace and order to the people of the Endless Dunes. The rulers of Nippur have stood as an affront to that order, and our target is the last member of their dying house of treachery.” The image disappeared, and he shook his head slowly, “Only when we have claimed victory over him can I know that my people are safe.”
“A noble cause,” Shang interjected, “A goal similar to my own in this new land.” He paced around the image, peering down at it carefully. “The Omniverse is so… free of distractions, isn’t it? It seems as though we can truly focus on our aspirations, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sinestro nodded solemnly. “Yes. There is much less standing in the way of progress here, despite the abundance of Primes.” He rolled his fingers over each other, as if there was a grain of sand between them. “It is only a matter of time before a true calm takes root.”
Shang’s eyes narrowed at the red-skinned man’s words, the mind behind them whirring. “Indeed,” he agreed cordially, though unconvincingly. He nodded his head towards the gathering crowd, “I’d like to greet some of the others. Thank you for your time.”
Sinestro nodded curtly in response to the man’s even-handed response. He was always wary of the polite.
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