05-24-2007, 05:11 PM
Daylight had broken by now, with the sun peering over the edge of the island. The promise of rainfall had loomed along the clouds before the KC could make them out, but now he was drenched. His weapon had long been deactivated, for wisdom of its instability in these overcast conditions. It crackled with a potent display of its potential when it was live and Cold wondered if he could flip the safety and squeeze the trigger should he come to be ambushed. In the downpour.
Then the host, Carl, came over the loud speakers that resonated about the island. He bid them a good morning in his cheery, exclamation-point-filled manner.
"You guys are moving at a very slow pace! Fortunately, you've made up for it with great footage and our ratings are at a record high right now!" KC couldn't shake the feeling that he was dealing with a very, very dangerous man. He hadn't covered much ground, the sweltering jungle around him had caused him to travel much slower than he had intended, but he was sure to pick up the pace now that the sun was beginning its daily commute.
"And now to announce the new forbidden zones!" he was quite jovial for a stereotypically flaming character, but Cold showed no notion of this. Somewhere deep within the Icers heart he felt a moral contempt for their host as he called out the zones that were forbidden. When he pondered what was so forbidden about them he remembered the collar fitting around his throat. It provided them with flawless audio and visual footage, probably activating the best angled camera's nearby; and undoubtedly tracking them as well.
Stopping for a moment, the giant huffed a gasp of his breath and flashed the audience two thumbs up. But the gesture of boyancy quickly turned to one of scorn, his middle fingers sprouting from amidst his digits.
"Fuck your ratings."
He had to find Koola and he had to find him now. Judging his son carefully: his overinflated ego, his recklessness, and his demand for attention at the worst of times; King Cold knew he had to reach higher footing to catch sight of him. He wasted no time in scrambling under a tree and withdrawing the map and compass from the bag he'd dragged around. He didn't know where he was, but judged accordingly by the roads nearby.
"C1... D4.. E9...." He marked down the zones that Carl had decided were danger zones and scoffed aloud. "F2... G1.. H10.... I8...."
With one already dead in the past few hours... it was time to reassemble his weapon. It would be a dark day.
Then the host, Carl, came over the loud speakers that resonated about the island. He bid them a good morning in his cheery, exclamation-point-filled manner.
"You guys are moving at a very slow pace! Fortunately, you've made up for it with great footage and our ratings are at a record high right now!" KC couldn't shake the feeling that he was dealing with a very, very dangerous man. He hadn't covered much ground, the sweltering jungle around him had caused him to travel much slower than he had intended, but he was sure to pick up the pace now that the sun was beginning its daily commute.
"And now to announce the new forbidden zones!" he was quite jovial for a stereotypically flaming character, but Cold showed no notion of this. Somewhere deep within the Icers heart he felt a moral contempt for their host as he called out the zones that were forbidden. When he pondered what was so forbidden about them he remembered the collar fitting around his throat. It provided them with flawless audio and visual footage, probably activating the best angled camera's nearby; and undoubtedly tracking them as well.
Stopping for a moment, the giant huffed a gasp of his breath and flashed the audience two thumbs up. But the gesture of boyancy quickly turned to one of scorn, his middle fingers sprouting from amidst his digits.
"Fuck your ratings."
He had to find Koola and he had to find him now. Judging his son carefully: his overinflated ego, his recklessness, and his demand for attention at the worst of times; King Cold knew he had to reach higher footing to catch sight of him. He wasted no time in scrambling under a tree and withdrawing the map and compass from the bag he'd dragged around. He didn't know where he was, but judged accordingly by the roads nearby.
"C1... D4.. E9...." He marked down the zones that Carl had decided were danger zones and scoffed aloud. "F2... G1.. H10.... I8...."
With one already dead in the past few hours... it was time to reassemble his weapon. It would be a dark day.