02-06-2016, 01:35 PM
It didn't take long for Ballad to remember why exactly he despised these things so much.
As he passed through the portal, his feet was immediately lifted off the ground, followed by him being flung forward by a sudden gust of wind. He felt like throwing up several times as he continued spinning around, gravity apparently a foreign concept in that transportation dimension. It certainly didn't help that his entire view was blurred, and it was just icing on the cake for the color of the entire mini-void to consist of solely purple. It was an assault on his eyes just as much as it was an assault on his stomach.
But even as he was floating around at the mercy of whatever laws of physics that governed that strange zone, he couldn't help but save certain segments of it in his mind. At that moment, he had reasoned that that knowledge could've been useful to know though the gunsmith was fairly certain he didn't want to be carrying around memories of the time he nearly heaved while doing several front flips in midair.
Thankfully, by the time he started feeling faint, he saw another color: black. It grew closer as he drew nearer to it before he finally crashed, the jet-black hole enveloping his senses.
--------------------
The gunner slowly slid his eyelids apart, groaning. His face was firmly pressed down onto the soft, cold ground; his unprotected cheeks felt frozen, and he probably would've been sniffling if his scarf had not covered his nose. His stomach no longer felt like it was about to be yanked out of his body, so that was another plus.
Ballad lifted his head off the snow-covered ground, looking around the area the portal had delivered him too.
The landscape was, for the most part, a gigantic, flat snow field. His coat blew upwards; the wind was rather fast and was kicking up snow in every direction, obscuring every intricate detail of the land. The high-pitched whistling that occurred whenever the wind blew past his ears only further inhibited his senses. Before he had even stood up, he had already gotten a sense as to the level of danger the realm housed.
What made it worse was that that was all he could think about.
A place like the Fields did not need any more danger. It did not need any more enemies to fight because the one enemy that everyone could agree was an enemy was the one enemy that you couldn't get rid of. It baffled Ballad trying to figure out how the war between the Dwarves and the Trolls even started. It made literally no sense whatsoever. Exactly what was the point in fighting over a flat piece of snow that was actively trying to get rid of them in the first place? Was there an important element they were fighting over?
The gunsmith shook his head, tightening the scarf around his mouth. At this point, he wasn't sure if the Dwarves or the Trolls even remembered why they were fighting. SPB certainly didn't, else he would've been telling him at that moment. And besides, it didn't matter anymore. If they were going to stop fighting, they would have by the time he figured out one was even happening. But instead, they were going to keep the war going until it had run out of steam. So he was going to add fuel to the fire, and keep adding more until it had sucked out whatever oxygen it could muster and extinguish itself.
But he first had to find the Dwarves.
"These aren't like the zephyrs of Camelot. Suggestions may be necessary, o gunsmith." He said, his tone polite and welcoming.
"First, let's get moving and out of this blizzard. Find shelter." He replied, his eyes shifting to a pale white color before reverting back to yellow. He held his gloved hand out in front of his face, shielding it from the harshness of the weather. He trudged forward, contemplating the potential of replacing his boots with traditional snow shoes as he navigated his way through the blizzard.
--------------------
"This is a rather direful moment for canvassing this."
"It's still fucking important, SPB."
"We appear to be handling our current state of affairs quite effortlessly." He responded in kind, continuing to plod his way through the increasing amount of snow. His other self had been badgering him about the topic of snow shoes for a few minutes, and he had ignored him out of a need to escape the blizzard. His arguments were starting to make more sense, however, especially since the snow beneath him was starting to crawl up his thigh, cramping his legs. Even if he did get out of the blizzard, he wasn't certain if it would be possible to move later on. He wished he could curse himself for his lack of forethought. Information was key, after all.
The wind fought against him, blowing him backwards as he hiked through the snow. The environment seemed determined to drive him into the ground, only getting stronger as each attempt failed. Both of the soldier's hands were in front of his face, and he was visibly grimacing with each step. It was still just as hard to see as it was when they had set foot into the land. It seemed like there was no end in sight.
"I'm not an idiot, SPB. We're gonna die if we don't get one of those things, seriously. I'd much rather want to move fast above the ground rather than lift them ten feet into the air just to take one step." He said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.
After a long pause, he sighed, saying "I know, virescent one. But, as you are well aware, we can't do it here."
"I understand that. I mean-"
A crack loud enough to cover the deafening whistles of the wind interrupted him mid-sentence. He looked down towards his feet, cocking an eyebrow at the ground. His body billowed out smoke as he took a giant leap forward, landing flat on his stomach as the ground where he stood started to split apart.
His heartbeat pumping fast, he carefully stood back up, looking back towards the spot he had stood on moments prior. He was able to make out one distinct feature: a fracture in the ground, with what looked like grey ice.
"Shit.... we're on a lake.... I'm gonna take over for this one, SPB." He whispered, his voice trembling a little as he turned back around, each step being slower and cautious than the last.
As he passed through the portal, his feet was immediately lifted off the ground, followed by him being flung forward by a sudden gust of wind. He felt like throwing up several times as he continued spinning around, gravity apparently a foreign concept in that transportation dimension. It certainly didn't help that his entire view was blurred, and it was just icing on the cake for the color of the entire mini-void to consist of solely purple. It was an assault on his eyes just as much as it was an assault on his stomach.
But even as he was floating around at the mercy of whatever laws of physics that governed that strange zone, he couldn't help but save certain segments of it in his mind. At that moment, he had reasoned that that knowledge could've been useful to know though the gunsmith was fairly certain he didn't want to be carrying around memories of the time he nearly heaved while doing several front flips in midair.
Thankfully, by the time he started feeling faint, he saw another color: black. It grew closer as he drew nearer to it before he finally crashed, the jet-black hole enveloping his senses.
--------------------
The gunner slowly slid his eyelids apart, groaning. His face was firmly pressed down onto the soft, cold ground; his unprotected cheeks felt frozen, and he probably would've been sniffling if his scarf had not covered his nose. His stomach no longer felt like it was about to be yanked out of his body, so that was another plus.
Ballad lifted his head off the snow-covered ground, looking around the area the portal had delivered him too.
The landscape was, for the most part, a gigantic, flat snow field. His coat blew upwards; the wind was rather fast and was kicking up snow in every direction, obscuring every intricate detail of the land. The high-pitched whistling that occurred whenever the wind blew past his ears only further inhibited his senses. Before he had even stood up, he had already gotten a sense as to the level of danger the realm housed.
What made it worse was that that was all he could think about.
A place like the Fields did not need any more danger. It did not need any more enemies to fight because the one enemy that everyone could agree was an enemy was the one enemy that you couldn't get rid of. It baffled Ballad trying to figure out how the war between the Dwarves and the Trolls even started. It made literally no sense whatsoever. Exactly what was the point in fighting over a flat piece of snow that was actively trying to get rid of them in the first place? Was there an important element they were fighting over?
The gunsmith shook his head, tightening the scarf around his mouth. At this point, he wasn't sure if the Dwarves or the Trolls even remembered why they were fighting. SPB certainly didn't, else he would've been telling him at that moment. And besides, it didn't matter anymore. If they were going to stop fighting, they would have by the time he figured out one was even happening. But instead, they were going to keep the war going until it had run out of steam. So he was going to add fuel to the fire, and keep adding more until it had sucked out whatever oxygen it could muster and extinguish itself.
But he first had to find the Dwarves.
"These aren't like the zephyrs of Camelot. Suggestions may be necessary, o gunsmith." He said, his tone polite and welcoming.
"First, let's get moving and out of this blizzard. Find shelter." He replied, his eyes shifting to a pale white color before reverting back to yellow. He held his gloved hand out in front of his face, shielding it from the harshness of the weather. He trudged forward, contemplating the potential of replacing his boots with traditional snow shoes as he navigated his way through the blizzard.
--------------------
"This is a rather direful moment for canvassing this."
"It's still fucking important, SPB."
"We appear to be handling our current state of affairs quite effortlessly." He responded in kind, continuing to plod his way through the increasing amount of snow. His other self had been badgering him about the topic of snow shoes for a few minutes, and he had ignored him out of a need to escape the blizzard. His arguments were starting to make more sense, however, especially since the snow beneath him was starting to crawl up his thigh, cramping his legs. Even if he did get out of the blizzard, he wasn't certain if it would be possible to move later on. He wished he could curse himself for his lack of forethought. Information was key, after all.
The wind fought against him, blowing him backwards as he hiked through the snow. The environment seemed determined to drive him into the ground, only getting stronger as each attempt failed. Both of the soldier's hands were in front of his face, and he was visibly grimacing with each step. It was still just as hard to see as it was when they had set foot into the land. It seemed like there was no end in sight.
"I'm not an idiot, SPB. We're gonna die if we don't get one of those things, seriously. I'd much rather want to move fast above the ground rather than lift them ten feet into the air just to take one step." He said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.
After a long pause, he sighed, saying "I know, virescent one. But, as you are well aware, we can't do it here."
"I understand that. I mean-"
A crack loud enough to cover the deafening whistles of the wind interrupted him mid-sentence. He looked down towards his feet, cocking an eyebrow at the ground. His body billowed out smoke as he took a giant leap forward, landing flat on his stomach as the ground where he stood started to split apart.
His heartbeat pumping fast, he carefully stood back up, looking back towards the spot he had stood on moments prior. He was able to make out one distinct feature: a fracture in the ground, with what looked like grey ice.
"Shit.... we're on a lake.... I'm gonna take over for this one, SPB." He whispered, his voice trembling a little as he turned back around, each step being slower and cautious than the last.
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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