[Michael - once he figures out what the deal with the Chamber of Glyphs is - figures that his duty here is pretty obvious. He is well-accustomed to the whole "welcoming people to another world" thing. Sure, he's got a little less control here. They're already going to be freaked out over the cartoon monsters in there. But they deserve a friendly, unflappable face.
So he'll spend a while pacing up and down the walls, offering a hand to any lost people he sees.]
Hi, I'm Michael. Welcome to the islands - watch your step. [Coming out of a wall seems a little precarious maybe?]
b: enter the mothman
[Michael, as it happens, isn't quite so easily overcome by the creature's aura of fear and paranoia.
The paranoia's one thing. Anxiety gnaws at his gut as he stalks through the woods, posture rigid and hands curled into fists. But even with his new bodily needs, even with the limits on his powers, isn't he still a demon? He refuses to be afraid of some thing in the woods that couldn't even really kill him! It's his job to see to exactly this sort of problem.
Not...not with violence, perhaps. He'll think about that if he ever actually catches it.]
Hey! Is this some kind of a joke to you?
[He follows the flashes of movement he can see, too intent on making this thing stop to be dissuaded by its aura. There was a time when he was the thing lurking in the background, giving people stomachaches. It isn't funny.]
Michael | OTA
[Michael - once he figures out what the deal with the Chamber of Glyphs is - figures that his duty here is pretty obvious. He is well-accustomed to the whole "welcoming people to another world" thing. Sure, he's got a little less control here. They're already going to be freaked out over the cartoon monsters in there. But they deserve a friendly, unflappable face.
So he'll spend a while pacing up and down the walls, offering a hand to any lost people he sees.]
Hi, I'm Michael. Welcome to the islands - watch your step. [Coming out of a wall seems a little precarious maybe?]
b: enter the mothman
[Michael, as it happens, isn't quite so easily overcome by the creature's aura of fear and paranoia.
The paranoia's one thing. Anxiety gnaws at his gut as he stalks through the woods, posture rigid and hands curled into fists. But even with his new bodily needs, even with the limits on his powers, isn't he still a demon? He refuses to be afraid of some thing in the woods that couldn't even really kill him! It's his job to see to exactly this sort of problem.
Not...not with violence, perhaps. He'll think about that if he ever actually catches it.]
Hey! Is this some kind of a joke to you?
[He follows the flashes of movement he can see, too intent on making this thing stop to be dissuaded by its aura. There was a time when he was the thing lurking in the background, giving people stomachaches. It isn't funny.]