08-31-2013, 10:32 PM
Trembling, the korugaran clenched his fists over the smooth white floor, blood and murky water mingling beneath him. The large man loomed over him as the collection of freaks gawked. Sinestro didn’t need to be told when he was surrounded by superheroes. Or, he supposed, supervillains.
“At least put on some pants…” a blonde, casually dressed woman spoke, her crystal blue eyes squinting in irritation.
A child in bright green clothing, ears pointed like his, glanced down, distrusting. Ganadorf’s eyes darted over his shoulder, sure to catch every flinch of the boy’s movement. Old blood, perhaps.
The plainly robed woman near the back of the group, her eyes burning brighter red than even Atrocitus’, muttered out ”Maybe-”
“Omnilium,” Sinestro spat, cutting her off. Slowly he looked up, scanning the group. “I need more Omnilium.”
He brought himself to stand, a puddle forming around his feet. Several of the group turned away in exasperation, or disgust, as he stared in unfocused wonder at the wide, white world. He idly smoothed over his hair and ran a finger and thumb over his mustache.
“I cannot waste any.” Still, the image of the ring burned in his mind, like a smoldering, yellow poker in his brain. “None.”
Ganondorf stood slightly shorter than Sinestro, but his build was thicker, more powerful. He would make a fine Lantern if that day ever came. The garudo withheld a sneer of agitation, his lips curling only slightly. “Allow me, then.” He held his hand out in front of his body, palms up.. Thaal looked on with curiousity as, slowly, a rainbow swirl of light appears in the cup of Ganon's palm. It was almost like watching invisible hands at work as pieces of clothe appeared and were sewn together as if by master seamstresses. Eventually, a set of feudal era clothing, complete with boots, materialized in Ganondorf's hands. Stepping forward, he offered them to the strange red man.
Sinestro’s brow quirked, he crossed his arms, lifted his nose in the air and stared. His glistening eyes darted between them all, some unknown calculation whirring through his oversized cranium. The seconds drug by as he stood defiantly, his own dried blood smeared all over his face and head, glaring at the offering.
“Thank you,” he said plainly, and took the clothes.
“At least put on some pants…” a blonde, casually dressed woman spoke, her crystal blue eyes squinting in irritation.
A child in bright green clothing, ears pointed like his, glanced down, distrusting. Ganadorf’s eyes darted over his shoulder, sure to catch every flinch of the boy’s movement. Old blood, perhaps.
The plainly robed woman near the back of the group, her eyes burning brighter red than even Atrocitus’, muttered out ”Maybe-”
“Omnilium,” Sinestro spat, cutting her off. Slowly he looked up, scanning the group. “I need more Omnilium.”
He brought himself to stand, a puddle forming around his feet. Several of the group turned away in exasperation, or disgust, as he stared in unfocused wonder at the wide, white world. He idly smoothed over his hair and ran a finger and thumb over his mustache.
“I cannot waste any.” Still, the image of the ring burned in his mind, like a smoldering, yellow poker in his brain. “None.”
Ganondorf stood slightly shorter than Sinestro, but his build was thicker, more powerful. He would make a fine Lantern if that day ever came. The garudo withheld a sneer of agitation, his lips curling only slightly. “Allow me, then.” He held his hand out in front of his body, palms up.. Thaal looked on with curiousity as, slowly, a rainbow swirl of light appears in the cup of Ganon's palm. It was almost like watching invisible hands at work as pieces of clothe appeared and were sewn together as if by master seamstresses. Eventually, a set of feudal era clothing, complete with boots, materialized in Ganondorf's hands. Stepping forward, he offered them to the strange red man.
Sinestro’s brow quirked, he crossed his arms, lifted his nose in the air and stared. His glistening eyes darted between them all, some unknown calculation whirring through his oversized cranium. The seconds drug by as he stood defiantly, his own dried blood smeared all over his face and head, glaring at the offering.
“Thank you,” he said plainly, and took the clothes.
![[Image: sig2.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v288/KrimTheUnsettler/sig2.jpg)