Pit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chickenwinged) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paixaorpg2012-04-11 09:51 pm
chickenwinged) wrote in paixaorpg2012-04-11 09:51 pm
Time for a plot twist. [Active/Open]
Character(s): Pit and whoever else happens upon him!
Content: There's a little lost angel that's just freshly arrived in Paixao.
Setting: Muspelheim gate.
Time: Midday
Warnings: The potential for really bad puns and jokes later on down the line? Nothing at the moment!
This was new, Pit thought. Recently his days had been starting off with air combat at least like, ninety percent of the time. But this time, this time was most peculiar--it was as if the Power of Flight had just suddenly been flipped off. Well, or it was something along those lines, so Pit had guessed. Maybe this gate was just connected directly to the ground somehow.
He couldn't be sure; the time spent between his usual running jump out the gate and his faceplant on the ground was a bit foggy.
"Mghh, shows me to not look before I leap." With a groan, Pit pushed himself up from the ground and picked up his bow. The fall only wounded his pride, that's all. "Is everything okay over there, Lady Palutena?" Pit rubbed at his sore jaw as he glanced around, surprised to find a number of (perfectly safe) humans walking about. "Uhh, and where... is this? There's a whole lot of no enemy fire going on here so far--not, not that I'm complaining!"
There was no reply.
"Lady Palutena?" The hand rubbing his cheek stilled. "This wasn't funny the last time you did this! I'm not falling for it again!"
Aside from a few odd looks from passersby, Pit got no response.
"Lady Palutena!" In a rush of panic, he turned towards the sky and raised his voice to a shout. The thought that perhaps something did happen started to set in. "If you're there please answer me!"
He was met with nothing but silence once again, and Pit felt at a loss.
Content: There's a little lost angel that's just freshly arrived in Paixao.
Setting: Muspelheim gate.
Time: Midday
Warnings: The potential for really bad puns and jokes later on down the line? Nothing at the moment!
This was new, Pit thought. Recently his days had been starting off with air combat at least like, ninety percent of the time. But this time, this time was most peculiar--it was as if the Power of Flight had just suddenly been flipped off. Well, or it was something along those lines, so Pit had guessed. Maybe this gate was just connected directly to the ground somehow.
He couldn't be sure; the time spent between his usual running jump out the gate and his faceplant on the ground was a bit foggy.
"Mghh, shows me to not look before I leap." With a groan, Pit pushed himself up from the ground and picked up his bow. The fall only wounded his pride, that's all. "Is everything okay over there, Lady Palutena?" Pit rubbed at his sore jaw as he glanced around, surprised to find a number of (perfectly safe) humans walking about. "Uhh, and where... is this? There's a whole lot of no enemy fire going on here so far--not, not that I'm complaining!"
There was no reply.
"Lady Palutena?" The hand rubbing his cheek stilled. "This wasn't funny the last time you did this! I'm not falling for it again!"
Aside from a few odd looks from passersby, Pit got no response.
"Lady Palutena!" In a rush of panic, he turned towards the sky and raised his voice to a shout. The thought that perhaps something did happen started to set in. "If you're there please answer me!"
He was met with nothing but silence once again, and Pit felt at a loss.
no subject
Finally, he flicked away from his location, and wandered towards the boy from his blindside. "Looking for someone? It's unlikely that they arrived with you. I don't think that's ever happened before."
But ugh. Hades really hated having to play the "good guy" so often. For a moment, Hades was reminded of that brat kid Ico. He wondered if this one had a maiden he was protecting, too. Maybe that was this "Lady Palutena" of his.