The Street Between the Rocky Bits and the Park, Thursday Evening

[alreadyhollow]

The going was slow when you were a fifteen-foot monstrosity made of fire and molten stone. Or, rather, it felt that way. Every movement was a slow, deliberate one, but the extra height made up for it. One could clear a lot of road in a single step, when one was as tall as some of the buildings in town, after all.

So, what was the fifteen-foot monstrosity doing wandering the streets of town? If anybody asked Jonothon - and let's be real, most sane people probably wouldn't bother to try to strike up a conversation with him in the first place, and the island didn't typically have many of those left - he'd say he was doing patrols. Keeping an open psionic eye to be certain the hollows weren't wandering too close to the park. If you pressed him for a better answer, he might even give in and admit that curiosity had won out, that yesterday's flickers of sunshine and the wealth of new minds around the island today had him straying from the rocky bits mostly because... well... he needed to know.

But, of course, the going was slow. Not that he was in any particular hurry. It wasn't like the people here were going to be leaving any time soon, after all.

[OOC: Lumbering Giant meandering down Loon Drive, as one does. Open!]

Comments

[trulyshelved.livejournal.com]

With the arm gone, they were going to float over to his face and pat at his eye... places...

They got distracted because he didn't really have eyes so much as more fiery spots.

Hm. Still no tears though.

[alreadyhollow]

Still no tears. Those had run dry a long, long time ago.

//No eyes,// he pointed out wryly. //Makes crying hard.//

[trulyshelved.livejournal.com]

They made a disgruntled, sulky sound.

How was he supposed to make tears then?

[alreadyhollow]

There was a lot of effort involved in shrugging, like this. And a lot of grinding sounds. And a few very annoying pebbles in inconvenient places. But here he was. Shrugging.

Hell if he knew, girls. If you figured it out, let him know, would you?

[trulyshelved.livejournal.com]

Well... well, fine!

That was stupid AND boring! And they didn't have to listen to that!

Allu-Nika flailed indignantly at him and then, in a fit of temper, kicked him in the face with one tiny, fuzzy foot.

Take that!

[alreadyhollow]

Jonothon took that, alright. He took it directly to the face, and his head snapped back as though that kick had been delivered by someone roughly twice his own size. He fell backwards this time, barely having a moment to reach for whatever was closest as he fell, and the remains of an old lamppost melted to slag in his hand before he even hit the ground.

This time, he made no effort to stand up again. He just reached to hold his face in his hands, impact fractures oozing magma, welling mainly from the tiny, bullet-like hole that Allu-Nika's foot had left in his face.

He had nowhere important to be. Here and now seemed like a good time to roll over on his side and just silently bleed for a while.

[trulyshelved.livejournal.com]

They giggled again, feeling better, and after dropping another load of pebbles on him and sticking tripwires all around him...

They spun around his head, once, twice, three times, and then wandered off, looking for the next, better, more interesting thing.