01-19-2016, 10:22 PM
Monster and moose stumbled forward through the gate, leaving the endless white behind them. Drawing the mount to a stop, Somerled clutched at his head, vision spinning from the weird spatial-distortion teleportation thing he just had the displeasure of experiencing. This wasn’t a foreign form of travel to him by any means, what with forays into those magics being all too useful for getting from place to place, but it wreaked havoc on his mind all the same. It didn’t feel like a natural form of transportation to him. Take a step forward and suddenly you’re six thousand kilometers away. If that wasn’t a recipe for jet lag to the extreme, then nothing was.
The dizziness refused to let up, in fact, if it was possible, the monster was quite sure that it was getting worse. He cursed the creator of the portal, wondering why they couldn’t just stick with disassembly and reassembly. It’s so much simpler. Make a consciousness somewhere else, kill off original. Voile, no jet lag.
If the unsteady tottering at a standstill was any indication, his mount wasn’t faring much better than he was. Good, the spirit thought, he wasn’t the only one who detested this shit. As luck would have it, not long after he had that thought, he felt as though the beast was beginning to pitch sideways, perhaps succumbing its own wobbliness. In a panicked response, he quickly threw himself to the side, quickly dismounting from the behemoth so his leg wouldn’t be crushed. As Somerled discovered the hard way, it’s a terrible idea to make balance-related decisions while in a warp stupor. The moose hadn’t been falling over in the first place, and he threw himself off it in the clumsiest dismount ever, for what would appear to the average bystander as no reason whatsoever.
Somerled hit the ground heavily, solid surface meeting aggressively with his back and evicting the wind from his lungs. As he lay there, the dizziness likewise forced out of him by that harsh meeting with the ground, he found that the moose was not, in fact, perturbed by that teleportation. On the contrary, if that look it was giving him was anything to go by, it was mocking him. As if to say hey, look at this dumbass being upset by travelling. Which did not sit well with him at all.
“Nice going.” Before he was able to start yelling at everything however, his voice spoke mockingly, not bothering to hide the hint of a laugh.
“Oh shut up,” he groaned, springing back up to his feet quickly. As much as he wanted to just stay there in defeat, now wasn’t the time for laying around. “You can’t feel this shit, hiding in there.”
“You can’t either,” came the retort from his other half.
“Yes, but I have to live with the damage. Now shush.” Somerled commanded his other half to not start speaking, glancing around the immediate vicinity. A path of concrete or asphalt or something ran from the gate off into a direction currently being blocked by his moose. Just his luck, however, the path of solidness was what he landed on, and not the ridiculous amount of sand that resided everywhere else. Other than sand, gate, and path however, there wasn’t really much in the way of scenery, besides whatever the path actually led to. Sure, there was sea beyond the sand, but that was more of a vast expanse of wavy nothing. Last time he checked, water didn’t have notable landmarks.
With his cursory observations of out the way, the spirit turned his head towards the bright blue sky above. The weather was always much more fun to look at than land, it had weird things going on in it. Heat bearing down from the sun suffused through the spirit’s body. “Temperature is a balmy twenty six point six degrees Celsius, relative humidity of eighty one point four percent,” he read the atmosphere, accounting for the sun and humidity when he spoke the temperature. “Atmospheric pressure of...” he trailed off, wracking his brain to try and read this part. Try as he might, however, it was out of his grasp. “Too high for me to read,” he admitted, giving up on it. “It’s in your territory, Sonny. But I can safely say we’re not on the Isle of Man. In fact, it’s downright tropical here.” He kept his head turned upwards, basking in the glow of the sun, waiting for the other two to come through the gate.
The dizziness refused to let up, in fact, if it was possible, the monster was quite sure that it was getting worse. He cursed the creator of the portal, wondering why they couldn’t just stick with disassembly and reassembly. It’s so much simpler. Make a consciousness somewhere else, kill off original. Voile, no jet lag.
If the unsteady tottering at a standstill was any indication, his mount wasn’t faring much better than he was. Good, the spirit thought, he wasn’t the only one who detested this shit. As luck would have it, not long after he had that thought, he felt as though the beast was beginning to pitch sideways, perhaps succumbing its own wobbliness. In a panicked response, he quickly threw himself to the side, quickly dismounting from the behemoth so his leg wouldn’t be crushed. As Somerled discovered the hard way, it’s a terrible idea to make balance-related decisions while in a warp stupor. The moose hadn’t been falling over in the first place, and he threw himself off it in the clumsiest dismount ever, for what would appear to the average bystander as no reason whatsoever.
Somerled hit the ground heavily, solid surface meeting aggressively with his back and evicting the wind from his lungs. As he lay there, the dizziness likewise forced out of him by that harsh meeting with the ground, he found that the moose was not, in fact, perturbed by that teleportation. On the contrary, if that look it was giving him was anything to go by, it was mocking him. As if to say hey, look at this dumbass being upset by travelling. Which did not sit well with him at all.
“Nice going.” Before he was able to start yelling at everything however, his voice spoke mockingly, not bothering to hide the hint of a laugh.
“Oh shut up,” he groaned, springing back up to his feet quickly. As much as he wanted to just stay there in defeat, now wasn’t the time for laying around. “You can’t feel this shit, hiding in there.”
“You can’t either,” came the retort from his other half.
“Yes, but I have to live with the damage. Now shush.” Somerled commanded his other half to not start speaking, glancing around the immediate vicinity. A path of concrete or asphalt or something ran from the gate off into a direction currently being blocked by his moose. Just his luck, however, the path of solidness was what he landed on, and not the ridiculous amount of sand that resided everywhere else. Other than sand, gate, and path however, there wasn’t really much in the way of scenery, besides whatever the path actually led to. Sure, there was sea beyond the sand, but that was more of a vast expanse of wavy nothing. Last time he checked, water didn’t have notable landmarks.
With his cursory observations of out the way, the spirit turned his head towards the bright blue sky above. The weather was always much more fun to look at than land, it had weird things going on in it. Heat bearing down from the sun suffused through the spirit’s body. “Temperature is a balmy twenty six point six degrees Celsius, relative humidity of eighty one point four percent,” he read the atmosphere, accounting for the sun and humidity when he spoke the temperature. “Atmospheric pressure of...” he trailed off, wracking his brain to try and read this part. Try as he might, however, it was out of his grasp. “Too high for me to read,” he admitted, giving up on it. “It’s in your territory, Sonny. But I can safely say we’re not on the Isle of Man. In fact, it’s downright tropical here.” He kept his head turned upwards, basking in the glow of the sun, waiting for the other two to come through the gate.
![[Image: testclown.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426940169548201995/453802699662557184/testclown.png)
Yuuka Kazami Wrote:Reimu comes back to make another pass at Meira and she just has an idiot neck child.
Credit to Yuuka for the sig