01-04-2015, 03:19 AM
...and walk, and walk, and walk.
If the Heartless—or whatever monsters made their home in the Omniverse—didn’t kill him, this walking just might. A whole hour wasted away as he walked, and though his destination finally started taking shape on the horizon, the white void still stretched out forever before him. Although Mickey created gummi ships for inter-world travel, he surmised one might come in handy at a time like this. But he would never find one in this emptiness.
The King could not remember the last time he had walked any distance of significance. After the people crowned him King, he took advantage of the many perks that came with the job. Locally, he rode in carriages made out of pumpkins or on mice transformed into horses, innovations brought to the kingdom by Cinderella when she joined the royal court. A trip from one world to another still exhausted him, but the invention of gummi ships simplified even that. These inventions made it all but impossible for the royalty to get the exercise they needed, but no one complained. They fooled themselves into thinking the days of excitement ended long ago.
The mouse scowled; power had spoiled him.
Another twenty minutes ticked by. Fatigue attacked in full force now; at last, Mickey decided that his shortness of breath and shaky legs warranted a rest. He did not see anywhere to sit down; the fountain had long since disappeared from sight. He unceremoniously plopped down and lay on the colder-than-he-thought floor. Deep breaths, he coached himself.
Once again, his thoughts drifted to where he might find a gummi ship. Eventually, he concluded that if his invention somehow had made it to this “Omniverse,” he would not find one in this stark-white limbo.
Wait a goshdarn minute, he thought, a thrilling realization dawning upon him: he did not have to find anything anymore. He merely thought of what he wanted, and boom; it appeared. Not that quickly, of course, but quick enough. Sure, making the portal proved problematic, but traveling between worlds certainly required excessively complicated physics that creating a big, hulking spaceship made out of gummis would not. Summoning a gummi ship felt lazy—it was probably a manageable distance—but fate cursed the mouse with short legs and less-than-average stamina, so he resolved to take the easy way out.
The ‘Omniverse.’ Mickey could not decipher exactly what that meant. One second, he had been relatively safe—mentally safe, at the very least—in his own corner of the universe, and now something stuck him in this place. He needed to find out what the heck was going on, and that meant he needed this gummi ship to materialize and fast. It did not appear as quickly—or as easily—as the Keyblade had, though. After several minutes, though, it finally started to take shape. The little rainbow orb grew bigger and bigger and bigger, until at last it began to look like one of the gummi ships from his world. He held his hands out in front of him, creating the last couple of bits of it when:
“Holy shit! Craig, ye have ta see this—”
Mickey whipped around. Before him stood two warriors—soldiers, the mouse guessed, based on the crest emblazoned on their chests—dressed in burgundy tunics and shoddy leather armor. They carried wooden shields in one hand and bronze swords in the other. Honestly, they looked more like army rejects than actual fighters, but nothing made sense in this world yet, so he refused to make any snap judgments. The one that had just spoken pointed his sword up past Mickey’s head. “Watch out, lad!” he shouted, and the mouse looked up to see the gummi ship, now fully created and powered up, sputter to life and begin to careen towards him.
Mickey’s eyes widened, and he leapt out of the way of the miniature space-craft. It collided with the ground and began to slide along the white floor. The two warriors dove out of its path as it came to a sudden stop. Well, at least it’s not bro—
KA-BOOM!
Fire burst forth from the engine, shutting that thought down before Mickey even finished it. One of the soldiers got up and dusted himself off. He looked from the gummi ship to the mouse to the gummi ship and then back to Mickey. Mickey observed his mess with just a twinge of shame.
“Ye just get here, lad?” the man asked. Mickey nodded timidly. “Ah, that explains it. Ye really shouldn’t a done that—I’ve never in my life met a Prime could summon somethin’ that big their first time ‘ere in the Nexus. Not that worked, anyhow.” Mickey blinked a few times, trying to put together some of the new terminology this guy had just laid down. A Prime? The Nexus? He did not know what any of those words meant. “I’m just sayin’ ye shoulda figured it wouldn’t work, s’all. Not yer fault—yer new here, how’re ye s’posed ta know?”
“So, uh,” the other one sputtered, examining Mickey with a great deal more wonder than his friend, “What are ye? A big, talkin’ rat? Wait, do ye even talk?”
“Shut yer goddamn gob, Craig,” the first soldier scolded Craig, bumping him with his shield. He seemed to be taking this whole encounter in stride. “He’s obviously not a rat. He’s a mouse—look at them ears—yer a mouse, yeah, lad?”
Though he tried, Mickey would not get the chance to answer, for the two seemed content to bicker amongst themselves about it before they would let him get one word in.
“A rat, a mouse, what the fuck’s the difference anyway—”
“There’s a big difference, ya insensitive bastard—”
“Oh brother.”
If the Heartless—or whatever monsters made their home in the Omniverse—didn’t kill him, this walking just might. A whole hour wasted away as he walked, and though his destination finally started taking shape on the horizon, the white void still stretched out forever before him. Although Mickey created gummi ships for inter-world travel, he surmised one might come in handy at a time like this. But he would never find one in this emptiness.
The King could not remember the last time he had walked any distance of significance. After the people crowned him King, he took advantage of the many perks that came with the job. Locally, he rode in carriages made out of pumpkins or on mice transformed into horses, innovations brought to the kingdom by Cinderella when she joined the royal court. A trip from one world to another still exhausted him, but the invention of gummi ships simplified even that. These inventions made it all but impossible for the royalty to get the exercise they needed, but no one complained. They fooled themselves into thinking the days of excitement ended long ago.
The mouse scowled; power had spoiled him.
Another twenty minutes ticked by. Fatigue attacked in full force now; at last, Mickey decided that his shortness of breath and shaky legs warranted a rest. He did not see anywhere to sit down; the fountain had long since disappeared from sight. He unceremoniously plopped down and lay on the colder-than-he-thought floor. Deep breaths, he coached himself.
Once again, his thoughts drifted to where he might find a gummi ship. Eventually, he concluded that if his invention somehow had made it to this “Omniverse,” he would not find one in this stark-white limbo.
Wait a goshdarn minute, he thought, a thrilling realization dawning upon him: he did not have to find anything anymore. He merely thought of what he wanted, and boom; it appeared. Not that quickly, of course, but quick enough. Sure, making the portal proved problematic, but traveling between worlds certainly required excessively complicated physics that creating a big, hulking spaceship made out of gummis would not. Summoning a gummi ship felt lazy—it was probably a manageable distance—but fate cursed the mouse with short legs and less-than-average stamina, so he resolved to take the easy way out.
The ‘Omniverse.’ Mickey could not decipher exactly what that meant. One second, he had been relatively safe—mentally safe, at the very least—in his own corner of the universe, and now something stuck him in this place. He needed to find out what the heck was going on, and that meant he needed this gummi ship to materialize and fast. It did not appear as quickly—or as easily—as the Keyblade had, though. After several minutes, though, it finally started to take shape. The little rainbow orb grew bigger and bigger and bigger, until at last it began to look like one of the gummi ships from his world. He held his hands out in front of him, creating the last couple of bits of it when:
“Holy shit! Craig, ye have ta see this—”
Mickey whipped around. Before him stood two warriors—soldiers, the mouse guessed, based on the crest emblazoned on their chests—dressed in burgundy tunics and shoddy leather armor. They carried wooden shields in one hand and bronze swords in the other. Honestly, they looked more like army rejects than actual fighters, but nothing made sense in this world yet, so he refused to make any snap judgments. The one that had just spoken pointed his sword up past Mickey’s head. “Watch out, lad!” he shouted, and the mouse looked up to see the gummi ship, now fully created and powered up, sputter to life and begin to careen towards him.
Mickey’s eyes widened, and he leapt out of the way of the miniature space-craft. It collided with the ground and began to slide along the white floor. The two warriors dove out of its path as it came to a sudden stop. Well, at least it’s not bro—
KA-BOOM!
Fire burst forth from the engine, shutting that thought down before Mickey even finished it. One of the soldiers got up and dusted himself off. He looked from the gummi ship to the mouse to the gummi ship and then back to Mickey. Mickey observed his mess with just a twinge of shame.
“Ye just get here, lad?” the man asked. Mickey nodded timidly. “Ah, that explains it. Ye really shouldn’t a done that—I’ve never in my life met a Prime could summon somethin’ that big their first time ‘ere in the Nexus. Not that worked, anyhow.” Mickey blinked a few times, trying to put together some of the new terminology this guy had just laid down. A Prime? The Nexus? He did not know what any of those words meant. “I’m just sayin’ ye shoulda figured it wouldn’t work, s’all. Not yer fault—yer new here, how’re ye s’posed ta know?”
“So, uh,” the other one sputtered, examining Mickey with a great deal more wonder than his friend, “What are ye? A big, talkin’ rat? Wait, do ye even talk?”
“Shut yer goddamn gob, Craig,” the first soldier scolded Craig, bumping him with his shield. He seemed to be taking this whole encounter in stride. “He’s obviously not a rat. He’s a mouse—look at them ears—yer a mouse, yeah, lad?”
Though he tried, Mickey would not get the chance to answer, for the two seemed content to bicker amongst themselves about it before they would let him get one word in.
“A rat, a mouse, what the fuck’s the difference anyway—”
“There’s a big difference, ya insensitive bastard—”
“Oh brother.”
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)