Between a Rock and a Hard Place ~LHC CH. 1~ ~OPEN~
welcometothesummit:
“…what in tarnation…” are the only words Rocky can muster. Not too shocking, all things considered. When hit with a steel chair of information right between the eyeballs, it’s about all one can say. Standing still in the middle of the hall, Rocky tries desperately to wrap his mind around everything. Heroes? Murder? Force fields? Dogs? The dog was about the only thing Rocky had a positive feeling towards, but at the moment it was severely dulled by…everything, really.
Rocky can barely comprehend what happened. He had practically just moved to Arcadia City. And now he’s trapped in a building being told it’s kill or be killed. Norv was right. He should have moved to Savannah instead. Ghosts and gumbo were preferable to whatever on Earth this mess was.
Rocky shakes his head, however. Smacks his head a few times, even. No, you big oaf, focus. Savannah is a million miles away at this point. The danger is right here. And it’s why you moved to Arcadia City in the first place. This is who you are! This is worse than waking up to a roach on your face (he laughs in his head at Sammy’s misfortune one morning), certainly, but not anything you can’t handle. And if those words were true, everyone here was a hero. If that was the case, then surely someone would have some sort of power that could help. Or, hell, all of them could work together and get outta here. Run right outta this building like heels getting booed after cheating to win. Of course, maybe “heels” wasn’t a good way to think of everyone right now…
Rocky slowly makes his way towards this dog. A retriever. Kinda like Ric back at home. Rocky kneels down and softly, gently, pets the dog on the head. Touching the dog, for some reason, made everything feel…real. This wasn’t some sort of fever dream after a tough match. This was no illusion. Whatever this was, it was happening. This dog delivered the message, and though clearly just an errand-boy, it was an extension of whatever force trapped them there. And this Mountain didn’t like the idea of being trapped. This Mountain was gonna grow and rupture through the god damned walls if it had to.
In a loud, booming voice rarely heard on TV (but definitely remembered when it did), Rocky cries out. “YO! We’re gettin’ outta here. Ain’t no one makin’ me kill a single soul that I don’t want to. If this voice is tellin’ the truth, one of y’all should have some powers to get us on up outta this mess. An’ at the least, maybe we can ALL make somethin’ happen. C’mon, let’s do this.”
Of course, Rocky doesn’t know what ‘this’ will entail. But those details can be worked out. Right now, it was about making that babyface comeback. The moves don’t matter; the emotion does.
… Okay.
Not in the way that like, they were just gonna go back to what they were doing, because… they couldn’t do that. They couldn’t just go back to the apartment and see Dave before leaving to class. There weren’t any classes, and Dave wasn’t here. Though… maybe that was for the better if they were all supposed to fucking kill each other. That, and Dave wasn’t a hero, was he?
But… they were, huh. That was why they were here, they and apparently the other 15 of their new friends. Fuck, was the dog a hero too? He had a cape, it wasn’t TOTALLY stupid to assume that. Maybe the dog was behind this! Shapeshifting was a thing! Who knew!
Not them, and not anyone else in the room, probably.
It’s… weird. Like, it’s definitely bad, no one’s denying that. Sixteen up and coming heroes being captured? Whatever the fuck had happened to Paragon Tower? It’s bad but… they feel so detached from it. They were already dead inside, what did it matter? …okay, bad joke. Bad taste. That didn’t change the weird emptiness there, in the lack of fear or panic or anything, really. Then… a small pang in their chest. There it is. Okay. Whew. They were still alive.
A loud voice sounds out and Ainsley jumps only minutely before looking over and oh damn he’s big. And… huh. “Dude, you’re scaring the dog,” they say without looking over to see if that fact was true. They do look up at the very loud man, squinting up at him before… “Don’t you run that gym? My brother goes there, he wrestles? Shit, you’d think a hero would have better things to do, huh? Hey though, Ricky. That’s your name, right?”
Rocky looks up from his dog-petting as his name is mangled. Not that it’s too big a deal; he’s heard worse. At least Ricky’s a name. Rocket? What the hell was a Rocket Mountain? Wasn’t that a ride at one of them theme park places in Orlando? Something like that. Rocker was another one. The pun is so simple, man, how does it ever get messed up? That’s why his father named him that! Still, the person seemed familiar, and had a wrestling brother? Neat!
Rocky stands up, stretching his tall frame to maximum height. He inspects the person before him. Yeah, familiar. Couldn’t quite place how so, but familiar. “It’s Rocky, actually. Rocky Mountain! Georgia born and bred. Yer bro’s a wrestler, ya said? Well I’ll be! Which one is he?” He sticks out a meaty hand, waiting for a shake.
Before the shake can come, however, another character enters the fray. Like a battle royal participant running down to the ring. This one was…colorful, to say the least. Dramatic. But gave off a positive vibe as Rocky ended up faux-catching them. And there were compliments! Very nice compliments. Rocky was already sweet a bit on another back home, but compliments were just that. In here, it might be nice to have some admirers around. Might make it easier for death to be avoided. Rocky smiles. “Damn straight I’m a hero! Biggest and baddest you’ve ever seen. Just don’t judge me on my in-ring persona, haha. And who might you be?”
