A Broken Clock

Wait a minute...

"WHAT THE SPIRALING SHIT—" Enoch tried to escape. But there is no escape from a master ball. However, since he’s not actually a pokémon, the technology Did Not Play Nice with his physiology. At all. Insert two quarters to continue. 10, 9, 8…

"Ah, balls." Dedan says as he reaches into his pocket for another pair of alien gangsters, only to find he has none! He falls to his knees, fists shaking skyward. "Nooooooo! "And I almost had the high score, too!"

Wait a minute...

Enoch stared at him for a long, long time. "You’re a meanie, is what you are," he finally declared. Then he flomped over and started rolling away. But wait! The Quarterses, still lying there doing nothing because no one wrote them doing anything after they were used as projectiles, acted as a bright green fuzzy spike strip. Sorry, Enoch. Your rollout only lasted one turn.

"Aha! Now's my chance!" Mr. Kitty lives up to his name and makes a lot of gross noises, hacking up a Masterball. He chucks the purple sphere at Enoch. He is gonna feed him SO many pokepuffs.

Wait a minute...

Enoch frowned at the magical time rodent before him. That jerk had pokéballs all this time and didn’t share! Enoch could have HAD that shiny wurmple, dangit. Snarling, he thwacked Dedan upside the head. “Dedan! What have I told you about holding out on me?”

"THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE," the Banshee shouts as he hops up onto his feet, lightning sparking here and there. He takes his extra pokeballs and promptly shoves them down his own gullet. GOOD LUCK SHINY HUNTING NOW, SUCKER.

Wait a minute...

The terrible noise shattered every window in the house. Also every door, and every wall. The two former guardians were left exposed to the elements. Or, well, to meat, anyway. So many steaks came hurtling their way.

Snapping out of it, Dedan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pokeball. STEAK have a pillory! The steaks are gone, all is well. Dedan collapses again.

Wait a minute...

Hmm. This wasn’t working as well as Enoch had anticipated. Time to bring in the big guns. By which I mean more sticky hands. Like at least a dozen of them. Which, incidentally, he was totally keeping in his pants. Even though he actually had perfectly good pockets thereabouts. Gdi Enoch. Just, gdi.

[ FLAILING AND WHINING INTENSIFY ]

Wait a minute...

Enoch was all kinds of prepared to help Dedan back to his feet, but then froze in mid-motion. He had just gotten the distinct sense that he was being watched. By a fork. "…One second," he said to Dedan, then rushed to the kitchen to tape and nail the silverware doors shut. "And there we go. Now to deal with you!" From out of the pocket he may or may not even have, Enoch produced a giant novelty sticky hand, which he let fly at Dedan in the hopes of pulling him up. Little did he realize that the sticky hand had left an unsightly red stain on his shirt.

The sticky hand lands squarely on Dedan's back. He makes a long, loud ehhhhhhhhhhhhh noise at it and half-heartedly flails his hands around. What a big baby.

Wait a minute...

The good news is that the machine accepted the enormous fucking leprecondors for some reason. Probably because goddamnit I can’t say no to the number 14. It’s the best number of all numbers. If you write it a certain way, and then turn it upside down, it says “hi”! Also Quarters is hot. But he’s also pretty much made of pointy things, and that’s the bad news. Enoch took like 4 hp damage, which almost stung a little. Also his beautiful spandex outfit was utterly ruined forever. I think we can all agree that’s the real tragedy here.

All of the sudden, Dedan collapses into a little banshee-pile on the floor, probably channeling his mun's current drowsiness. Like seriously why the hell am I so drowsy. Also this thread has three out of four hot monstermen in it, so let's just throw in Doviculus for good measure. Eh, we'll just say he's observing the situation from afar. Probably sipping tainted tea while doing so. Eye dee kay, man.

Wait a minute...

"Is that so." He harrumphed with such force that the weather patterns got fucked up for probably the rest of the century. "Well, I’ll show you what’s southerly!" With the sound of a blaring klaxon, he changed into a splendid gymnast’s uniform. Seriously you’ve never seen so many colors in your life. And the iridescence, holy shit. Anyway, now dressed for the job, he did a headstand. Whoops, there went his head. Insert two quarters to continue. 10, 9, 8…

Dazzled by the brilliant uniform like a female bird of paradise gazing at hot boy bird, Dedan almost doesn't notice the continue message. Thankfully he does, and pulls two Quarters out of his pocket. He then tosses the two leprechaun mobsters at Enoch.

Wait a minute...

Enoch just stared at him as if he’d been slapped. Which is to say, as if he’d been slapped by something that could actually do more than faintly tickle. Silly bacon and his maxed-out HP. "You absolute dipshit, this is the southern hemisphere!” WOO, AUTUMN BREAK!

"No, YOU'RE the southern hemisphere! By which I mean, your ass is." Dedan'd always wondered why there was a tattoo of Australia on Enoch's rear. Mystery solved!

Wait a minute...

"It’ll make you taste better." Really, he would have thought that much was obvious. A lobster bib magically materialized around his neck. Then he remembered this was Dedan he was dealing with. The lobster turned into a molerat, though it kept the claws since Enoch had forgotten what molerats look like. Too much lemon Pledge in the air’ll do that to you. "Now hold still. You could stand to be about 5,000% more lemony."

"Don't mess with me, big boy. I've got the power of ROCK on my side!" Dedan whips out a guitar from nowhere in particular and begins to play a wicked metal solo. Or at least he would if he actually knew how to play guitar. Instead what is played is something that surely kills the artistic soul of every musician within a 50 mile radius. "Oh. Right. I can't play." So instead, Dedan simply smacks the toddler spray I mean lemon Pledge out of Enoch's hand with the guitar. WOO, SPRING BREAK!

Wait a minute...

What the hell? When did a three-year-old get in the house? Oh well, thought Enoch. Best get the spray. A few hours’ fumbling in the cabinet yields him the toddler spray, thus making this his fastest toddler spray retrieval to date. I’ll hold for applause and step aside for a moment so you can give him all the star stickers you want. Following the source of the shout, Enoch spotted a figure that was smaller than him. Eh, close enough. He sprayed the bejeezus out of his target with the toddler spray. The toddler spray was lemon goddamn Pledge.

Snapping out of Arklee's best friend's dream sequence, Dedan flails his limbs about like an MSPaint Adventures character. Also when the frickety frack is that comic gonna update again, anyway? I wanna see if Condy kicks Aranea's spidery butt. She'd better. Nobody offs my dog-tier babby and gets away with it. Anyway, Dedan's flailing and now also smells strongly of lemons. He's a little over citrucal. "ENOCH you handsome ball of lard, why the fizzityuck are you sprayin' me with the toddler spray?"

Wait a minute...

Mirrors are shiny Dedan is also shiny, or at least shinier than a lot of the other things lying around the house. Therefore—and Enoch, deep in thought while staring at the blank wall in the shower where his mirror had been, couldn’t believe he hadn’t arrived at this conclusion sooner—his housemate was positively perfect. Perfect for making a fun little spotlight to shine on walls and things. "Dedan? We’re going outside. Now. You can play your Nintendobox or whatever it is later.”

"Nooooooo!

#(( hell i'm shocked by how many i got on my main even ))#ooc post

phoenixenix

Reblog if you are legitimately shocked by the number of followers you have.

Slow Start

Enoch surfaced from his thoughts in time to notice the banshee leaving. He nodded in agreement with the other’s idea. “You do need your rest.” And then he rose, and he laid a hand on Dedan’s shoulder before carefully pulling him into a hug. “Be at peace, Dedan,” he murmured, the sound rumbling through his flesh.

Dedan stands there blinking for a moment at the unexpected gesture before returning the hug. He lets his weigh rest against Enoch's form for a few minutes, enjoying his friend's warmth. Eventually, he pulls himself out of the hug, putting his weight back onto his crutch, and then heads back to his room.

Slow Start

Enoch held his tongue, but heaven knew it was an effort on his part. There was a way for Dedan to have made things easier on his charges, and by extension on himself. There still was and would be, if things came full circle. But now was unquestionably not the time to be proposing sugar as a solution. Not to him. "I can’t say I relate," he finally said truthfully, "but I do feel for you."

"I expected as much," Dedan sighs, "and thanks." He sits there in silence for a while, eyes watching the hands of the cuckoo clock as they tick away the day. Eventually, he grabs his crutch and slowly pulls himself up. "I'm headin' back to my room."

Slow Start

"Perhaps it will." And they would surely benefit from it. Better lodging, a functioning postal service to distribute goods so they didn’t have to, people to command who looked up to them… But still… His head turned east of its own accord, and he sighed. “God, but I’ll miss my creation…”

The Banshee huffs. "I won't miss the stress that came with runnin' mine." If he didn't know better, he'd often times swear that the elsens' stress was contagious.

Slow Start

"They’re frequently to blame when people cross between worlds." He agreed that far, but no further. "But not exclusively." He knew better, in the wake of what he’d seen. What he’d attempted. "I’ve met more than one person capable of opening the passages themselves, and none were gray faces. "More than one of them has tried to teach me their methods, what’s more," he added. Then he shuddered in spite of himself. He’d made no real effort to recall what happened the last time he tried to leave this reality. But there it was, fresh in his mind. The darkness. The silence. The airlessness… He swallowed hard, wiping at his brow. “They failed.”