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"Extra-dimensional, eh?" Freedom Eagle studied the other heroes for a moment, seeming to take the newly-arrived bonfire at his word, then snapped his fingers. "Of course! That must be where the Gator's ship came from - no wonder he couldn't speak our language. Have you come to take him back? I'm sure he must be a fierce criminal on your world. I'd be happy to deliver him to your custody, assuming we can catch him."

 

"After that, I'd certainly enjoy a chance to meet you and tour your world, ah, friend," he said to Punchline, "if everyone's like you, you must be..." Suddenly, he fell silent - and in fact everything had gone silent, the Gator, the swamp, the insects, everything. He stared at them all, then spoke again - but it wasn't his voice at all. The Golden Age hero now spoke with a high-pitched, breathy voice that sounded utterly alien from underneath his half-masked features. "Why not fight? You could have fought bad monster with favorite hero." He pointed at Leviathan. "Like when you were small!" 

 

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Leviathan spent the first few sentences basking in good humor.  Look at him, playing with the big boys!  Bonfire's plan, assuming this was it, was working out after all.  Punchline was...well, Punchline--Leviathan personally wouldn't have spoken up about their little godling--but things were looking up! 

 

Then this...whatever this was, happened.  His shock looked comically out of place on such a face.  Wide, drooping eyes.  Hanging jaw.  Leviathan could only stare in astonishment and confusion.  Was it...some trick of the alien?  One of Punchline's pranks? 

 

"What?" he asked dumbly with the beginnings of fear in his deep voice. 

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Punchline starts to chuckle, his guise slowly falling apart as he loses his composure. His lips are first -- the slightly rounded scales that encircle his muzzled maw lose their green and grow pink, then red. The teeth within his mouth change as well, dulling from long, sharp triangles into pearly white squares. As he changes, his voice shifts with him. It goes from Leviathan's recognizable growl into something just a little too high, a little too manic to be natural. By the time he's doubled over, clutching his stomach and belching laughter, he's back to his normal self -- or whatever it is that passes for 'normal' when Punchline is involved. Except... when he looks up, barely containing his giggles, Leviathan sees the pupils in his eyes are the same reptilian slits as his own for just a few moments more, before they vanish into the slightly glowing yellow orbs that he'd had when the young genius first saw him. "Don't you get it, Jolly-Green?" he asks, his voice still shaking with guffaws. "We're out of the toy-store, but we're inside the toy-box!" He flings his arms wide, fingers splayed, and crows. "I'm game!" he shouts. "What's next?"

Edited by Sophistemon
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As everything went silent, Bonfire began to descend. He landed next to the other two, with the feet of his illusionary armor now sticking into the floor, clearly looking fake. Slowly, the armor began to disappear, making way for Bonfire’s more natural appearance, somewhat shorter and a lot less bulky. He looked at the other two, then turned towards the not-Freedom Eagle. His mind raced from one thing to the next, he had a suspicion of what was going on here.

 

He began to talk, addressing both the Golden Age hero, but also his two colleagues. His voice was soft, he did not want to raise the stakes. Nevertheless, he spoke with determination, clearly articulating his words.

 

“Fighting’s not a good idea. If you can solve something without combat, that’s always better. Fighting only makes things worse, and people get hurt. Just because somebody says you have to fight, that doesn’t mean you have to.  

 

“And it leads to misunderstandings. The Alien-Gator isn’t … wasn’t … some “monster.” There simply was not enough communication and people started to fight because they saw him, and it led to many injuries. Sure, it looks cool and makes for better stories, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. “

 

Inside, Cass was surprised at what he was saying. This was not the Bonfire people usually got to saw. But, this was just slightly more personal than most things he did, having been on the end of “attack, then ask” before. And just perhaps, he did something good by doing this.

 

 

Edited by olopi
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Freedom Eagle smiled at Punchline. "I like you!

 

And then suddenly the scene shifted again. There was no feeling of change and no sensation of the scenery warping around them - they simply were in one place but then abruptly shifted to another one entirely. 

 

They'd been in a low-lying swamp before, but now things couldn't have been more different. The toy shop doors opened now into a vast, nearly palatial room that was clearly a gigantic office of some sort or another. Peering out one vast window, it looked like they were atop the Pyramid Plaza in Freedom City, albeit a Freedom City that looked subtly different. The heroes were standing beneath a gigantic wall painting of the world, a geographic rather than political map, with a blue, gold, and white mask superimposed over the globe which seemed to be centered somewhere in the Arabian Peninsula. Along the wall were heroic statues in marble, armored and masked figures that the heroes couldn't immediately identify, with the exception of two figures positioned on either side of the desk along one side of the room. 

 

"This is...well, this is embarrassing," said Monsoon, stepping out the doors just behind Edge, still holding the godling. "Someone must be pulling thoughts from our minds..." The two recognizable statues, cast in marble so white they were practically glowing, were clearly that of Monsoon herself - with Edge alongside, albeit slightly smaller than his usual form. "I'm sure we've all had idle thoughts that we would never want to see-

 

One wall of the room was covered in screens showing news programs all over the world - but the journalists were now saluting the same global flag. The one with Monsoon's masked face over a globe. "HAIL MONSOON! GLORIOUS MONSOON! MOTHER OF THE WORLD EMPIRE!" 

 

"It's okay, babe," said Mark, patting Nina on the arm. "Somebody just wants to see if we'll play their game. Don't let them get your goat." 

 

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"What?" Leviathan gaped again.  His thoughts slowly caught up to him, their usual speed thrown off by the bizarre shifts at play and his overwhelming sense of disappointment.  Just when he thought the day might be going his way, it kept turning sour. 

 

The giant turned in a circle to study the scene, and once he decided he more or less understood, he couldn't help but cast a suspicious sideways glance toward Monsoon.  She was right in her own claim, of course, so Leviathan tried not to outright judge, but he nonetheless filed this information away.  You never knew.  This new environment certainly made him hope that his own test was already over, back in the swamp.  If even worse embarrassments were still to come...

 

He stepped away from the others and raised both his head and his voice. "Quirk!  What's this about?  Just tell us what you WANT!"

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Punchline looked about, taking the transition to a new scenario in stride, and tittered. He looked over at Leviathan following the lizard's outburst and gave the young scientist a comforting pat on the arm. "Relax, green-jeans; take it easy. It's a game, is all! Just play along and have some fun." That said, he reached behind himself and retrieved a large, chisel-tipped marker. Thus armed, he made his way to one ornately decorated wall, found an open patch, and wrote PUNCHLINE WUZ HERE in bold block letters. He stood back, one hand on his chin, and nodded. "Never hurts to leave your mark on history," he mused. "Even if it never happened!" He turned to consider Monsoon, and a wide grin split his face nearly in half. "So! This is your head we're in? You've got expensive tastes. You're the kind of gal that orders lobster, am I right?"

Edited by Sophistemon
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As the change happened, Bonfire ascended again, taking a look at the distance from an elevated position. When suddenly, the party was standing in a huge office, the first thing he did was to fly towards the window, getting a better look at where he was. As he arrived there, he landed, and walked back towards the party in his more human form, talking all the way, sounding quite impressed. “Whooo-e. Quite the thing you’ve got going here, gotta say. Like the colours, and the architecture’s pretty cool too. Good tastes.” He continued to catch up, before turning his face towards the screens. “Not quite sure about the whole “Mother of the Empire” thing, but if you need some assistance, gimme a call.“ He didn’t sound very serious in all of this, his emotions slightly exaggerated.

 

Bonfire moved closer to the screens, taking a better look at the entire room, especially the various statues. He’d probably have to know some of them right? At the same time he continued to speak, not addressing the others directly, just putting the words into the room.

 

“So, all this stuff’s pulled from our brains? First we’re supposed to fight alongside The Freedom Eagle, then we get to see a huge, world-spanning empire? Ya know, I’m not sure what you’ll pull out of me, but now you’re raising the level of impressive-ness, so it better be good. Or, well, nothing at all would also work. “

A few letters of smoke appeared behind him, this message probably supposed to be for the others considering its position.

 

“Babysitting | Fun? | Go on”

Edited by olopi
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"Here, darling, you take this." Monsoon handed the baby off to Edge, the latter of whom scooped up the little girl as if he'd spent his whole life holding a baby. In his dark suit and impeccable tie, he looked like a model showing off a new line of child-friendly formal wear. Striding out amid the finery of the imperial office, she folded her arms over her armored chest and declared "I am a grown woman and I am content with my life. I don't need some childish fantasy of myself as Empress of the World, ruling as head of an immortal dynasty that will one day smite Heaven itself, to play in like a child. I accept no guilt and take no responsibility for what happens in my imagination!

 

That earned her a hearty "Boo!" from the newscasters on screen in that same odd, childish voice - but it change things. As she spoke, the scenario around them changed again. This time the scene looked downright mundane - they were in a suburban backyard behind a big, two-story house and facing a substantial plot with thick green grass underfoot, a picnic table set with six places, and a giant tree with a tire swing nearby. Mark took a few steps back from a backyard grill, careful to keep the baby away from the burgers cooking there and his eyes popped wide. A masculine voice called from inside the house. "Mark! Your mother's almost done. How are the burgers coming out there?" 

 

His face white, Mark reflexively called out, "They're fine, Dad!"

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Punchline whipped around, dropping the marker as he did. It began to fade from view the moment it left his fingers, and vanished completely shortly after hitting the ground. "Hot dog!" he cried, white teeth shining. "I love hamburgers!" He looked about for the grill, yellow eyes gleaming, and rushed over to it, taking a place beside Mark. "Now, speaking of childish fantasies, just take a gander at all this!" he prodded. "Look at us -- we're practically dripping with domestic bliss. Did you share a cul-de-sac with the Bradys, the Bunkers, and the Cleavers?" He chuckled, and then redressed himself in a fuzz of static. When he reappeared, he was wearing sneakers, high socks, shorts, a tee-shirt, and a propeller-beanie that he reached up to give a spin. The hat left his head, floating up, up into the sky like an escaping balloon, and he watched after it wistfully. "Aw," he whined. "That's the third one I've lost that way this week."

Edited by Sophistemon
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Ok, so we can at least escape these scenes fairly easily, Leviathan thought.  For now, until this baby-god--or Quirk, if this is all his game instead--gets tired and angry of being refused...  It's about the only solid idea he managed, in light of where they next arrived. 

 

Edge might've kept a public identity, but Leviathan hardly knew anything about the man behind the (metaphorical) mask.  Being here, in what he assumed was this renowned hero's private life, maybe even his childhood...such opportunities didn't come often!  Then again, the last two stolen dreams were rather private.  Why would this one be any different?  What sort of relationship did the near-god of fortune and magic have with his family?  What regrets and lost hopes did he hide away? 

 

How would he deal with lesser, very vulnerable intruders who couldn't help but see things he might rather they didn't?

 

This time, Leviathan couldn't manage even a polite chuckle to Punchline.  He felt that the clown was playing with fire, and accordingly, he inched away.  If the lightning came down, he didn't want to be caught in its blast. 

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Said clown cast a sly grin at Leviathan. "It's just a joke," he said, and gave Edge a friendly pat on the arm. "You can take a joke, can't you?" He tittered and then toddled off, his childish clothes fuzzing back into his traditional garb. "Besides, none of this is real, right? It's all torn from memory, dreams, and fantasy!" He pointed at Leviathan. "You got to meet the great American hero!" He arced a thumb at Monsoon. "She got to see her dirty little fantasies brought to life." He looked back at Edge. "And he gets this. Not that I'm complaining; at least there's food here." He opened his mouth wide enough to show his tonsils, then reached inside with an orange-gloved hand and removed a spatula, which he used to serve himself a sizzling burger. He plopped himself down on the grass and tucked in, finishing the meal in three large, greedy bites. He belched, then lay back. "If none of this is real, how do we know what's what? Or who's who? Are the rest of you even here? Am I?" He chuckled, then closed his eyes. "Existential quandaries make my head hurt!"

Edited by Sophistemon
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Once more, the first thing Bonfire did was to explore his surroundings. A cloud of smoke wouldn’t even stand out here, so he spent some time flying around, just getting a better view of the situation, and dodging a rogue propeller beanie.

 

He continued to listen in with the conversation below him, and once he landed and became solid again, he also contributed to it. Judging by Edge’s expression he had some inklings on an idea what was happening here, and it wasn’t anything good.  “Well, I’m sure there’s a probably sad reason we’re here, but I think I agree with Punchline on some things. We’re here anyways, so we might as well make the best of it, enjoy these different places and sights. And this is a picnic, after all. So, how about we have a quick lunch break? It’s a bit early, but we may as well enjoy this, right? It’s probably the best choice of action.”

Edited by olopi
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"...no." 

 

There seemed to be limits to what Bonfire could uncover. He could fly high enough to get a view of the cheerfully manicured suburbs all around him, but couldn't go much higher than the roofs of nearby houses, or beyond about half a block from the yard where they'd all started. 

 

"Oh, Mark..." Nina had taken a few steps to lay her hand on her fiance's shoulder - and in the moment actually pushed back her armored faceplate to reveal the darkly-complected young woman beneath. "Mark, it's all right," she assured him. "It's just an illusion. I don't even think it's trying to hurt you." She glared at Punchline. 

 

"What if it gets tired of us not wanting to play, though?" asked Mark quietly, his handsome face ashen. "We can't just keep refusing it, or it's going to throw a tantrum." He didn't seem to be entirely listening to Punchline.

 

At that moment, a smiling older man walked out of the house. In his late sixties with once-blonde hair that had gone almost immediately to light grey, he bore a very strong resemblance to Mark - Leviathan recognized him as Rick Lucas, the author of several books on the Silver Age Freedom League. "Hello everyone. Welcome to our 4th of July barbecue!" With a friendly smile, he walked over to the grill and flipped the burgers. "I hope you've all brought your appetites." 

 

 

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Under any other circumstances, Leviathan would be ecstatic.  Rick Lucas--who was apparently Edge's father!--and Monsoon's real face, revealing the identity of another hero?  Events of the year, right here.  But instead, he felt sympathy for his fellow prisoners.  Perhaps excluding Punchline, who deserved the first half of his name by this point.  The reptile shook his head; this kind of situation was a staple of the old stories, a being of vast power forcing the heroes to live out their buried emotions and impulses, but he agreed with Monsoon.  The baby godling--and he felt confident that this was no trick of Quirk's, by this point--appeared to want to help them, in a twisted way.  Show them what they wanted to see, while lacking an adult's understanding of why those thoughts were locked away. 

 

He didn't know how to reason with an infant, but he did strongly feel that Edge, noble and oozing kindhearted charisma, didn't deserve the pain that awaited him here.  Leviathan tried the only plan that came to mind: he closed his eyes and thought as hard as he could about the Raven.  If Freedom Eagle occupied a high spot in Leviathan's childhood fantasies, then he was nonetheless well below the top of the pyramid.  And this time, I'll play along, he vowed.  It isn't real, so if the baby wants a show, then I'll give her a show.

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The clown cracked an eyelid to allow one softly glowing yellow orb to peer back at the assembled heroes. He sighed, and his mouth did something that wasn't exactly a smile anymore. Grumbling to himself, Punchline rolled over and took to his feet.  "Stop!" he called. "Stop everything. Pause!" He walked towards Edge and Monsoon, his limbs moving with preternatural grace, and interposed himself between Mark and his father. "Coming through, grandpa," he chirped. He looked at Edge, eyes wide, and shook his head. "It's a game," he said. "Well, it's not really a game -- games have rules. It's more of a playground. Don't you get it? We're supposed to make our own fun, I think." He turned to the infant and blew a long, wet raspberry. "She's just trying to have a laugh, Edge." He looked back at the hero. "So am I, but..." He sighed, then shrugged. "Maybe I went too far? It's hard... it's hard to tell, sometimes." He chuckled, weakly. "Point is, this place isn't real. It's like a fun-house, and for you this place is like that spinning room that nobody likes. If there's something about what's going on that turns you off, play with it, like Scales and I did back in the swamp." He grinned. "Try and have some fun, buddy. Or maybe..." he chortled. "Maybe get some closure, while you can?" He turned, then took a step away. "Kids have short attention spans, you know."

Edited by Sophistemon
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Cass wasn’t sure how to act now. Usually, he’d have something to say, but handling this situation wasn’t something he really felt confident in. And a lack of confidence was what killed a speech. Instead, he left Edge to his own devices, this was his … world?, and Cass did not want to potentially upset somebody like Edge.

 

So, he walked towards the table, listening into what Punchline had to say in the meantime. Once he had reached his destination, he grabbed a few vegetables, and began to cook them in his hand, creating sizzling sounds and some smoke rising upwards. As the vegetables disappeared in the cloud of smoke that was Bonfire’s head, he addressed their not-too-real host.

“Thank you for inviting us, sir. These are really good, my compliments to whoever bought, or even grew them. “

Edited by olopi
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Mark stared silently at the home's exterior wall for a long moment, a look of profound loss on his face, before he reached up and took Nina's hand with a firm squeeze. When he stood up, just as Nina's mask was snapping back down, he was all business, and all smiles. "Good to see you, Dad!" He said with a big smile, still carefully carrying the now-awake and alert infant. "Yeah, things are just heating up out here, ha-ha-ha!" He joined his 'father' by the grill. "I don't know if you've met Monsoon, but she's my fiancee. We're going to be married as soon as we overthrow her father, ha-ha!" 

 

"Y-yes," said Monsoon from behind her mask. "But I'm sure you know all about that. These are our friends, Bonfire, Punchline, and Leviathan.

 

"Well any friend of my boy's is a friend of mine, ha-ha!" said Rick Lucas. His handshake was firm, his smile golden, and was there anything behind the simulacrums eyes as he shook everyone by the hand. It was downright impossible to tell. "It must be somebody's birthday, because we've got a clown!" Punchline got the biggest smile of all. "You know any jokes?" 

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Leviathan waited, eyes closed, hoping and hoping and hoping...and at last opened them to disappointment.  He sighed heavily--then sighed again as he watched Edge.

 

This is messed up, Quirk.  You should've warned us.  ...But I guess if you did, you wouldn't still be Quirk.  I hope your date is terrible, you little bastard.

 

Seeing no other options, the huge reptile stomped sullenly forward and shook hands with an illusion.  "Thank you, thank you," Leviathan said, through his gritted teeth, his smile too wide and very brittle.  For fear of breaking imaginary bones in his grip, especially with his current undisciplined mood, his "handshake" amounted to letting Rich take hold of whatever he could fit his smaller fingers around, and just moving his own hand up and down lamely.  Leviathan then turned away--although in light of their host's final question, he made an unpleasant sound in the back of his throat and rolled his huge, pale eyes.  The scaly beast was not in the mood for fun.

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Punchline froze in his tracks, standing ramrod stiff on the lawn, and then turned on a pivot to address the illusory Mister Lucas with a puzzled look on his face. "You... actually want to hear a joke?" he asked, incredulity leaking into his voice. His lips widened, showing perfectly pearly teeth, and he glanced over to Leviathan when the brilliant young scientist snorted his derision. "Did you hear that, Green Eggs and Ham? Pops here wants to hear a joke!" He raised one hand to his chin and pondered. "Gee, I can't remember the last time someone asked for a joke. People today are so darn coulrophobic that most of them just avoid me." His lips pulled down in an exaggerated frown, and his softly glowing yellow eyes filled with crocodile tears -- no doubt borrowed from one of Leviathan's DNA-donors. The clown took a few steps towards the group and dove into a brightly-colored cartwheel that carried him around in a circle. He spoke as he passed by each member of their impromptu little party, rattling off joke after joke. To the elder Lucas, he crowed: "Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love, and got married. The ceremony wasn't great, but the reception was terrific!" When he passed Leviathan, he spouted: "I went fishing the other day; I pulled a mussel!" To Monsoon, he quipped: "Where does a king keep his armies? In his sleevies!" When rolling by Bonfire, he shouted: "How do you make holy water? You boil the hell out of it!" He popped out of the cartwheel, with no sign of being out of breath, and faced Edge. "I used to have a job at the calendar factory," he said. "But I got fired for taking too many days off!" The clown took a deep breath and spread his arms wide. Addressing the group as a whole, he said: "Why do chicken coups only have two doors? Because if they had four, they'd be chicken sedans!" He burst into loud, knee-slapping laughter.

Edited by Sophistemon
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It was the nickname that did it.  Maybe it caught him off-guard, though Punchline had given him several throughout the day thus far; maybe it was the absurdity of this whole situation.  Whatever the cause, like a gem-cutter using precise strikes to fracture a diamond, something in the epithet put a crack in Leviathan's shell.  He failed to react to the first TV joke.  At his own, the lizard quirked the tiniest of smiles.  Monsoon's made him show part of one tooth from the corner of his mouth.  Bonfire's earned more of a sigh than a chuckle, although there was relief in it.  When Punchline reached Edge, Leviathan drew his head back slightly; he wasn't sure how this man might react, he who suffered most here. 

 

The conclusion, at last, earned two soft, short laughs.  Leviathan could manage no more, under these circumstances, and yet he felt some of the tension in his chest and shoulders begin to loosen.  He wasn't happy, not by a wide margin, but he thought about what Punchline said before: Maybe get some closure, while you can.

 

He hesitated, thinking, and turned so that his head faced Edge and Monsoon, while his hands aimed toward Bonfire and Punchline.  "It, ah...sure is a nice day here.  Wouldn't mind a walk.  Might be a good idea."  But with his eyes, he asked, Do you want us to go? 

 

Bonfire tried to test the limits of this place earlier and didn't appear to go far, but they could go far enough.  Even half a block would give Edge some privacy...and perhaps privacy could give him closure. 

Edited by Blarghy
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Bonfire was a bit uncomfortable in the situation that was now happening. It was clear that there was something going on underneath, something he could imagine the basics of, but didn’t want to. And something he probably didn’t want to actually see, he was not one to get involved in other people’s emotional events.

 

Punchline’s jokes were a welcome distraction from the worrying. As Bonfire cooked and ate a few more vegetables, he began to turn his attention to the clown. Cass had never been to fond of clowns, he didn’t really see a reason for them. That sentiment did not change, but it became weaker. The first few jokes managed to elicit chuckles, with the one addressed directly to him actually causing him to laugh somewhat, which sounded rather strange thanks to the smoke playing with his voice.

 

When Leviathan asked his question, the reason behind it was clear. It made sense. And Bonfire was glad both to give Edge and his Dad space, but also to get away from the conversation that would happen. Plus, talking with his fellow heroes on this … trip would be rather interesting too.

 

“I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs a bit. “

Edited by olopi
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  • 2 weeks later...

Suddenly, the bucolic scenery broke up - quite literally, as like shattering glass. Mark flinched, visibly, whatever door he'd reluctantly opened shut firmly in his face as a brief moment of discontinuity in some hazy white space was met by the sudden return of the interior of the toy shop. Quirk was back inside, or rather, just coming back inside. It had been the slam of the door behind him that had shattered their shared vision. The baby Mark was holding was now crying. 

 

"It's not fair!" declared Quirk, ripping off what looked to be a flower pinned to his lapel and throwing it across the room. He was all dressed up now in an ill-fitting suit and tie, and from the scenery behind them it was now dark. "She said she's just not that into me, and she doesn't think we should keep dating once she's away at her new school. This SUCKS!" he opined, looking like he wanted to cry. He looked very much the sad thirteen-year-old boy. 

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"You know," said Punchline. "A walk could do me go-oo-ood." The final word was stretched out and distorted, like a spastic tape, as reality shattered and reformed around them. When the toy shop appeared again, swallowing up the bucolic backyard, Punchline appeared hastily reassembled, like a stained-glass, three-dimensional Picasso, before he smoothed out his edges and adjusted his collar. Seeing the distraught deity, he approached Quirk and looped an arm around the youth's slumped shoulders. "Hey, kiddo," he began. "Cheer up! You're still young, and there's plenty of fish in the sea. Why, I bet there's hundreds, maybe even thousands of lusciously lovely ladies that'd clamor all over each-other for a chance to date a god." He chortled. "Heck, it's probably most of them..."

Edited by Sophistemon
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Bonfire looked quite surprised and actually recoiled backwards at the change of scenery. Confirming he was back in the toyshop, he saw Quirk’s approach, once more causing some surprise. He looked quite hesitant, as much as not having a face could portray hesitation, at least. He took a few steps around, letting Punchline speak. Then he took said some words, slowly and doing his best to supress the apparent uncertainty.

 

“Ooof. I’ve given a lot of dating advice, help and other things alright, but never to anybody of your calibre. Think the clown’s got a point, but I can’t really offer much more. “

 

He took an awkward few steps backwards, unsure what to do. Really, this situation was holding up a giant “Gonna go wrong” sign, and for all it mattered, Cass didn’t feel like being the one to start it. A few carefully placed words, and then hoping it all turned out well, always the best plan of action.

Edited by olopi
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