Post by Dantalion on Dec 1, 2017 1:33:08 GMT
Where was he? How did he get here? Hell, when did he even get here? All equally fair enough questions as to inquire too if he wasn't already aware of it all. He was in Hell, though some smart-asses thought HFIL was funnier. Those people were idiots. As to how he arrived here, a quick shot to the head under the vein of 'I am heroic yes.' was how he got here and when, around five minutes past five minutes ago. He looked over his new form, a ball of gas. A streak of emerald ran through the otherwise golden cloud, though a touch of curmudgeon followed suit. An air of wilting anger that screamed, 'I am nothing short of livid.' "Stupid fucking goat...." He grumbled to himself, it was a... Strange experience. There was no passing of air, his voice box didn't pulsate with movement, and he didn't feel the wheeze of a breeze run through the cracks of his face. He felt both complete and incomplete all in a single sentence.
But did he have time to dawdle on his situation? When ya in hell, there is an old saying some random Ghost with a Cowboy hat told him, Ya either get busy dying, or ya get busy living. And he refused to stay imprisoned in that wall of anger and contempt for that goat. That was for when he got out of here, for now he was finally on vacation. Finally away from the hustle and bustle of life. Maybe suicide wasn't as bad an option as he had once thought, especially now that he knew this was what death was like. In the distance however, he heard... Music? Strange, it wasn't oratory and he hadn't met anything resembling a semblance of even flesh and bone. Maybe there was a way out from this accursed form and back to the world of stitched flesh.
He hovered with the speed of a thousand slugs, basking up and down with bobbing ryhtmn, a little closer to the ground before bouncing back as if some force propelled him from ever feeling the dirt beneath his feet. Finally, crossing a rampaging stream of calm, he found it, at first a cacophony of colour and lights laid splayed all about, sitting comfortably against the side of a mountain with a huge roller coaster puncturing through the rock and coming out in jagged intervals. "Huh... Some sort of..." He wanted to say death machine, but really that would seem like a waste of money considering where they were. "Well shit I don't really know what it is now do I?" He muttered to himself, it seemed there was some sort of line, a vivid display of coloured balls all mashed together and bound by some long red rope.
He caught this locomotive of sowed motion, rather perplexed by the string of colours and light that started to pervade the air with its symphony of dancing displays. Large ogres, toothy smiles stapled to their faces as they spoke empty words in the skies above, drawing in attention from far and wide. As for how Dantalion had managed to miss it, anger had a funny way of making you ignore all else but your singular goal. He pushed himself into the line, already behind him three more spirits took up places and in their stead only a single step was taken. No wonder this line extended from here to who knows how far it would in the next five minutes, this was horribly inefficient with only a single line. 'These people need mo.... No. No vacation.' He cut himself off mid thought as he took another... Step? Motion? He moved further. Now instead of being what seemed like an eternity away from getting into this place, he was only an eternity minus one.
But did he have time to dawdle on his situation? When ya in hell, there is an old saying some random Ghost with a Cowboy hat told him, Ya either get busy dying, or ya get busy living. And he refused to stay imprisoned in that wall of anger and contempt for that goat. That was for when he got out of here, for now he was finally on vacation. Finally away from the hustle and bustle of life. Maybe suicide wasn't as bad an option as he had once thought, especially now that he knew this was what death was like. In the distance however, he heard... Music? Strange, it wasn't oratory and he hadn't met anything resembling a semblance of even flesh and bone. Maybe there was a way out from this accursed form and back to the world of stitched flesh.
He hovered with the speed of a thousand slugs, basking up and down with bobbing ryhtmn, a little closer to the ground before bouncing back as if some force propelled him from ever feeling the dirt beneath his feet. Finally, crossing a rampaging stream of calm, he found it, at first a cacophony of colour and lights laid splayed all about, sitting comfortably against the side of a mountain with a huge roller coaster puncturing through the rock and coming out in jagged intervals. "Huh... Some sort of..." He wanted to say death machine, but really that would seem like a waste of money considering where they were. "Well shit I don't really know what it is now do I?" He muttered to himself, it seemed there was some sort of line, a vivid display of coloured balls all mashed together and bound by some long red rope.
He caught this locomotive of sowed motion, rather perplexed by the string of colours and light that started to pervade the air with its symphony of dancing displays. Large ogres, toothy smiles stapled to their faces as they spoke empty words in the skies above, drawing in attention from far and wide. As for how Dantalion had managed to miss it, anger had a funny way of making you ignore all else but your singular goal. He pushed himself into the line, already behind him three more spirits took up places and in their stead only a single step was taken. No wonder this line extended from here to who knows how far it would in the next five minutes, this was horribly inefficient with only a single line. 'These people need mo.... No. No vacation.' He cut himself off mid thought as he took another... Step? Motion? He moved further. Now instead of being what seemed like an eternity away from getting into this place, he was only an eternity minus one.
