WHOOOOOOOOOAAAAAA!
Continuous CYOA: The Road to Free Roller
- Thread starter Easy
- Start date
WHOOOOOOOOOAAAAAA!
hot damn
inb4 Tirin is final boss
inb4 Tirin is final boss
Ye.
Chapter Two Prologue: The Fugitive
Pain.
Nausea.
Regret.
The process of waking up, for Tirin, was not going quickly. All these feelings developed themselves in that order over several minutes, as he went through what he always went through after a night out with his bros. Only, this time, the pain was worse. Much worse. He'd often used the words "feels like my insides are tearing themselves apart" to describe the aftermath of his drinking sessions, but now he regretted having been so hasty. It left him with no way to describe his current situation, if he was to give it the special distinction it was due. In retrospect, this was what having his insides torn apart probably felt like.
More and more of something approaching clarity of thought seeped through to his reeling head, and for a few minutes, he simply lay there and let it. The particular shade of the darkness behind his eyelids told him that there was one hell of a bright light outside waiting to greet him, and he had no intention of opening his eyes and facing it until he was ready. As much as he could be, anyway, given the circumstances.
Wherever he'd ended up, it was strangely quiet - a fact that didn't entirely occur to him until he started to notice, just at the edge of his hearing, a subtle murmur of voices in conversation. Though too quiet for him to make out what they were saying, as he focused on trying to listen to them anyway, one of them was starting to sound familiar. Something in the back of his mind was screaming warnings at him, but he couldn't place just why. Something about that pitch, that intonation, the cadence of it...
Stealthy.
Tirin's eyes shot open immediately. At the same time, reflexively, he tried jumping to his feet, but was immediately stopped short. The room holding him was, in fact, white and brightly lit, and he himself was lying in a glass-covered enclosure that looked almost identical to the RP sim-pods, down to the shackles binding his hands and feet. Looking down, he saw that his shirt had been removed and, to his horror, a massive cut across his abdomen, fresh and glistening with blood, was being held closed with more stitches than he felt particularly inclined to count. Beside him stood a bloody operating table, and standing over him, the faces of Stealthy and... Frilzer?
Seeing him open his eyes, Stealthy made some kind of offhand remark at Frilzer, and immediately hit a button to open up the lid of the pod. "Oh, good, you've made it!" He exclaimed, smiling broadly, now perfectly clear and audible. "And here Frilzer was starting to worry that you wouldn't be waking up. Remarkable!"
"It's the transplants, see," Frilzer cut in nervously from the side. "We weren't sure that they'd be up to the-"
Tirin silenced him with a stare. "Take these things off of me"he said evenly, indicating the shackles. "And I don't need your fucking transplants." His eyes began glowing with sudden light, and the wound on his stomach started quivering slightly. Too slightly. Tirin frowned. Strange. That should have been plenty enough power to fix it. He tried again, redoubling his efforts...
"I wouldn't do that it I were you" Stealthy cut in. "You're only going to tear out the new organs. It takes time to grow those things, you know. Even with the new tech we got from the cloning machine." He sounded slightly annoyed. Tirin stopped, lay back, and looked at him with eyes full of slow-burning rage. "Explain" he stated. Definitively.
"What, you don't remember?" Stealthy seemed surprised. "None of it? You met up with Riyant and Easy, you had a few drinks, you had some kind of argument about power or mercy or whatever..." he trailed off, as the light of recognition suddenly dawned in Tirin's eyes. All at once, the memories came flooding back.
"Oh, God. Easy," he said, in a voice filled with a mix of regret, and horror.
"What have I done?"
Pain.
Nausea.
Regret.
The process of waking up, for Tirin, was not going quickly. All these feelings developed themselves in that order over several minutes, as he went through what he always went through after a night out with his bros. Only, this time, the pain was worse. Much worse. He'd often used the words "feels like my insides are tearing themselves apart" to describe the aftermath of his drinking sessions, but now he regretted having been so hasty. It left him with no way to describe his current situation, if he was to give it the special distinction it was due. In retrospect, this was what having his insides torn apart probably felt like.
More and more of something approaching clarity of thought seeped through to his reeling head, and for a few minutes, he simply lay there and let it. The particular shade of the darkness behind his eyelids told him that there was one hell of a bright light outside waiting to greet him, and he had no intention of opening his eyes and facing it until he was ready. As much as he could be, anyway, given the circumstances.
Wherever he'd ended up, it was strangely quiet - a fact that didn't entirely occur to him until he started to notice, just at the edge of his hearing, a subtle murmur of voices in conversation. Though too quiet for him to make out what they were saying, as he focused on trying to listen to them anyway, one of them was starting to sound familiar. Something in the back of his mind was screaming warnings at him, but he couldn't place just why. Something about that pitch, that intonation, the cadence of it...
Stealthy.
Tirin's eyes shot open immediately. At the same time, reflexively, he tried jumping to his feet, but was immediately stopped short. The room holding him was, in fact, white and brightly lit, and he himself was lying in a glass-covered enclosure that looked almost identical to the RP sim-pods, down to the shackles binding his hands and feet. Looking down, he saw that his shirt had been removed and, to his horror, a massive cut across his abdomen, fresh and glistening with blood, was being held closed with more stitches than he felt particularly inclined to count. Beside him stood a bloody operating table, and standing over him, the faces of Stealthy and... Frilzer?
Seeing him open his eyes, Stealthy made some kind of offhand remark at Frilzer, and immediately hit a button to open up the lid of the pod. "Oh, good, you've made it!" He exclaimed, smiling broadly, now perfectly clear and audible. "And here Frilzer was starting to worry that you wouldn't be waking up. Remarkable!"
"It's the transplants, see," Frilzer cut in nervously from the side. "We weren't sure that they'd be up to the-"
Tirin silenced him with a stare. "Take these things off of me"he said evenly, indicating the shackles. "And I don't need your fucking transplants." His eyes began glowing with sudden light, and the wound on his stomach started quivering slightly. Too slightly. Tirin frowned. Strange. That should have been plenty enough power to fix it. He tried again, redoubling his efforts...
"I wouldn't do that it I were you" Stealthy cut in. "You're only going to tear out the new organs. It takes time to grow those things, you know. Even with the new tech we got from the cloning machine." He sounded slightly annoyed. Tirin stopped, lay back, and looked at him with eyes full of slow-burning rage. "Explain" he stated. Definitively.
"What, you don't remember?" Stealthy seemed surprised. "None of it? You met up with Riyant and Easy, you had a few drinks, you had some kind of argument about power or mercy or whatever..." he trailed off, as the light of recognition suddenly dawned in Tirin's eyes. All at once, the memories came flooding back.
"Oh, God. Easy," he said, in a voice filled with a mix of regret, and horror.
"What have I done?"
I've made some changes in the bookkeeping of all this that I don't really have time to sum up right now, but you'll pretty much get the gist of it just from looking at the OP. The second part of this prologue should be done pretty soon, and then it's back to TC and the Path of the Spirit.
Usually it feels more like they're melting into a thick, black slurry, the idea of which has been previously supported by my vomiting a darkness so deep that light was afraid to go near it. That said, this is also pretty accurate.
Careful you don't cut yourself on all that edge.
Okay, that was actually really funny. This has bettered my day.
These days I tend not to vomit blood, or have such intense stomach pain that I feel like I might die, but I am completely serious when I say that neither this post nor the one that TC claimed to be edgy were inaccurate with regard to the consequences of my most severe drinking.
The Fugitive: Part II
Easy broke the grip on his throat almost casually, instantly reversing in midair. Looking around, though, he frowned, and refrained from choking his opponent. The two of them were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, the lights of the forum barely more than tiny specks down below. Knocking Tirin out would be a bad idea right now.
"Yeah." Tirin smirked, seeing where Easy was looking. "Checkmate." And like that, he put them into free fall. The wind screamed past their ears as the speed picked up, and Easy turned around to see Tirin was aiming to smash him into a parking lot...
"YOU KNOW.." Easy had to shout, to make himself heard. The fedora had long since disappeared from the other man's head.
"YOU USE THAT WORD..." As they started approaching the rooftops, Easy shifted holds and executed a takedown, moving to pin Tirin's arms together from behind. Tirin just laughed, knowing full well that he could rotate the both of them whenever he cared to anyway.
"A LOT MORE THAN YOU REALLY SHOULD!" Hoping desperately for this to actually work, Easy suddenly planted both feet on the small of Tirin's back, and then vaulted off of it with all his might, aiming for the warehouse nearby. Surprised by the sudden boost in speed, Tirin didn't manage to decelerate in time, as planned, and ended up breaking several bones on impact, while Easy crashed through the roof of the NFTea warehouse. Growling, Tirin gave himself a few seconds to heal, and then burst in through the building's wall. The inside was mostly occupied by empty space and scattered rubble, along with a few crates here and there. The thick-limbed figure of an angry Polack rose from the ruins of one of them.
"So, the good news is," he grunted, throwing aside some debris, "the roof and these crates of limes pretty much broke my fall." He advanced on Tirin, stepping into the moonlight. The fires of fury were burning in his eyes, but his voice sounded eerily calm .
"The bad news is, I fucking hate limes. Now I'm really pissed off." He took a step forward, and Tirin froze time.
There was no more holding back, no more concern for teaching lessons or exacting some appropriate punishment. As much as he'd used his powers today, optimistically, he had a minute or so. Probably less. In that time, he had to eliminate the threat with everything at his disposal. As long as he didn't do anything he couldn't undo later, it would all be fine.
In fact, the exertion of swinging the two-by four over and over and over again meant that he had to end the timestop less than fifty seconds later. He breathed a sigh of relief as the horrifically battered man in front of him collapsed and fell to his broken knees, and without making a sound, toppled over face down, and was still. Finally. Tirin threw away the bloody piece of oak and turned to go home. Time to get some sleep. He'd come back and fix the guy up tomorrow. Maybe. If he felt like it.
"Hey." A hand closed around his ankle. "Don't get so far away from me." Tirin groaned with exasperation. It sounded menacing as hell, he had to admit, but people should know when they're beaten. Fuckin' Polacks.
"Y'know," he said aloud, turning to look at Easy, sprawled on the floor and reaching out to him, broken legs trailing behind uselessly. "I was trying to be merciful. But, if you don't cut this shit out..."
"Merciful?" Easy laughed, spraying blood all over the floor in front of him. "Heh. Hurts t'laugh. Tell me 'bout it. I could'a caved your skull in anytime. In fact..." He pulled on Tirin's ankle, dragging himself forward to put his other arm into striking distance, "still could. C'n you fix that with your time bullshit, Newfie? Huh?"
"Yes." Tirin answered solemnly. "Whenever I die with my time powers active, I'll end up reverting automatically. Takes more time if the pieces are more spread out, but, still." He shrugged. "A nuclear goddamn explosion couldn't kill me. Let alone you. Maybe one day you'll get some common fuckin' sense and learn some manners, but you're not powerful enough to show me mercy. And right now," the light enveloped his eyes, and his hair began to rise and wave about, as if by some unknown wind, "I'm startin' to get too pissed off to show you any. Let. Go of my leg."
"Can't tell me how to live my life."
"That's literally exactly what I just did." With the last of his power, Tirin created a portal on the floor beneath them, watching Easy's eyes widen in surprise as he fell through. Only his grasp on Tirin's ankle now connected him to the world, while Tirin for his part floated smoothly above the hole, looking down at him within.
"That's a portal to Interspace" he explained calmly. "Outside dimensions. That's how I explain it to dumbass Mongoloids like you, anyway. I can go in and out whenever I want, but Interspace is infinite. Finding someone like you in there, and getting him out, would take more power than even I've ever got. You fall in there, you won't just be dead. You'll be deleted. Understand?"
Easy ground his teeth angrily, and said nothing.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Tirin smirked. "Now, apologize, admit that you're a stupid, Czech faggot, and give me your word that you'll quit trying to fight me, and I'll pull you back out. And hurry up with it, or I'll just close the damn portal around your arm. That's the last bit of mercy I've got."
Easy just glared at him, silent.
"No? Might wanna think real hard on this. It's the only way you're getting out of there, I promise you." There was a gleam in Tirin's eye. "And I'm no liar."
"Y'know..." Easy said carefully, as if thinking it over. "Yes?" Tirin encouraged him, mockingly.
"Y'know, you were right, in a way. I'm really not powerful enough to have mercy on you. I can see that now." Tirin rolled his eyes in response. "Yes, obviously. Now, are you gon-"
"But not for the reasons you think."
"Yeah, okay, so are you gonna-" Tirin stopped mid-sentence, and frowned. "Wait, what's this now?"
"What I'm saying is, Tirin, you should really know your place." Easy grinned bitterly and mirthlessly, showing a wide arrangement of red-stained teeth. "Because in a situation like this, when the chips are down, when you've pushed it to the edge and there's no going back... you're really not powerful enough to have mercy on me, either."
Tirin stared, trying to work out what he meant, when Easy pulled himself up with the one hand, and punched clear through his abdomen with the other. Overwhelming pain flooded his mind and paralyzed his actions as Easy dug around beneath his ribs, grabbed hold of something, and ripped it right out.
He saw Easy fall down into the void, still smiling, a handful of blood and guts in one hand. An extended middle finger on the other. He saw the portal close, and he collapsed to the ground, vision starting to fade. He saw Stealthy suddenly step out of a nearby shadow, and hold one hand up to an ear.
"Jackpot. Head to my location for package collection, and get the Committee together. We're moving to Phase Two."
And then darkness.
"Ah, so you do remember" Stealthy noted, seeing Tirin's reaction. "Good. I didn't think you'd actually believe it if I told you. Fun fact: we still can't figure out how to clone you, so we had to give you Easy's liver. How's that for irony? Y'know, since he took yours. No one else's could have handled the job." He chuckled. "And then, since it worked, and we already had the equipment all set up for it, we just grew Easy parts for all the rest of it, too. Why not?
"Losing so much of your own tissue's gonna make your time powers a lot weaker, but hey, you take what you can get. You should consider yourself lucky, you know. Closest donor match was technically W1LG3R, since he's also Canadian. I'd keep quiet about it, though. Who knows how much Req's gonna have to say about Easy being inside you?"
"So you have the cloning machine?" Tirin asked, ignoring the jibe. "Hm? Oh, yes," Stealthy answered. "Common knowledge out there by now. Kind of embarrassing, really. I must be slipping. I have no idea how they ended up tracing it back to me." He sounded slightly annoyed. "Well, whatever. Minor inconvenience. Speaking of which," he turned to the doctor, "Frilzer, you're free to go. Good job on this one. And, remember! Mum's the word."
"Yeah, yeah." Frilzer muttered, unhappily.
As he turned and started walking away, Stealthy nonchalantly drew a pistol and shot him in the back of the head.
"What?" He asked, seeing Tirin's expression. "It's not like he actually experienced it. We'll clone him if we need him again."
"Let me guess." Tirin's eyes narrowed. So he'd been right to be suspicious. "Just like Easy."
"Easy? No. Technically, it's against regulations to clone forumers unless they've been killed, and while I'm no legal expert, I'm not sure if getting removed from existence really counts." Stealthy looked away, avoiding his gaze.
"And besides... things are running the way I'd like them to, right now. You and Easy tend to complicate things."
"Bullshit." Tirin spat out. "Why'd you save me, then, huh? What the hell are you planning this time?"
"For old time's sake," Stealthy calmly replied, "and because you're not powerful enough to stop me anymore." He pushed a button on the pod, and Tirin's cuffs were released. He jumped out of the machine ready to attack, when a white-hot pain shot through his entire body and drove him down to his knees.
"Also," said Stealthy, holding up a small remote dial, "because I had a control module put in during the surgery, along with some other things. All rigged to blow if they're tampered with, of course." He didn't ease up on the dial, but stepped closer and then knelt down, bringing his face down to Tirin's level.
"Now, I don't actually have to tell you anything else, really," he said. "But I will give you just a bit of advice before you head out of here. First, you're the most wanted man on the forums, and I hear NFTea's offering a hell of a lot of Likes for anyone who brings them your head. Don't get caught. Second, we're pretty sure your time powers are going to wreak havoc on the transplants. I'd try to avoid using them, if I were you." He patted Tirin's shoulder with one hand, and then stood up and pressed another button on the remote. Almost immediately, Tirin went unconscious.
He woke up to the sight of an empty street, and the sound of approaching sirens. So he stumbled to his feet, and ran.
End of Prologue.
Easy broke the grip on his throat almost casually, instantly reversing in midair. Looking around, though, he frowned, and refrained from choking his opponent. The two of them were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, the lights of the forum barely more than tiny specks down below. Knocking Tirin out would be a bad idea right now.
"Yeah." Tirin smirked, seeing where Easy was looking. "Checkmate." And like that, he put them into free fall. The wind screamed past their ears as the speed picked up, and Easy turned around to see Tirin was aiming to smash him into a parking lot...
"YOU KNOW.." Easy had to shout, to make himself heard. The fedora had long since disappeared from the other man's head.
"YOU USE THAT WORD..." As they started approaching the rooftops, Easy shifted holds and executed a takedown, moving to pin Tirin's arms together from behind. Tirin just laughed, knowing full well that he could rotate the both of them whenever he cared to anyway.
"A LOT MORE THAN YOU REALLY SHOULD!" Hoping desperately for this to actually work, Easy suddenly planted both feet on the small of Tirin's back, and then vaulted off of it with all his might, aiming for the warehouse nearby. Surprised by the sudden boost in speed, Tirin didn't manage to decelerate in time, as planned, and ended up breaking several bones on impact, while Easy crashed through the roof of the NFTea warehouse. Growling, Tirin gave himself a few seconds to heal, and then burst in through the building's wall. The inside was mostly occupied by empty space and scattered rubble, along with a few crates here and there. The thick-limbed figure of an angry Polack rose from the ruins of one of them.
"So, the good news is," he grunted, throwing aside some debris, "the roof and these crates of limes pretty much broke my fall." He advanced on Tirin, stepping into the moonlight. The fires of fury were burning in his eyes, but his voice sounded eerily calm .
"The bad news is, I fucking hate limes. Now I'm really pissed off." He took a step forward, and Tirin froze time.
There was no more holding back, no more concern for teaching lessons or exacting some appropriate punishment. As much as he'd used his powers today, optimistically, he had a minute or so. Probably less. In that time, he had to eliminate the threat with everything at his disposal. As long as he didn't do anything he couldn't undo later, it would all be fine.
In fact, the exertion of swinging the two-by four over and over and over again meant that he had to end the timestop less than fifty seconds later. He breathed a sigh of relief as the horrifically battered man in front of him collapsed and fell to his broken knees, and without making a sound, toppled over face down, and was still. Finally. Tirin threw away the bloody piece of oak and turned to go home. Time to get some sleep. He'd come back and fix the guy up tomorrow. Maybe. If he felt like it.
"Hey." A hand closed around his ankle. "Don't get so far away from me." Tirin groaned with exasperation. It sounded menacing as hell, he had to admit, but people should know when they're beaten. Fuckin' Polacks.
"Y'know," he said aloud, turning to look at Easy, sprawled on the floor and reaching out to him, broken legs trailing behind uselessly. "I was trying to be merciful. But, if you don't cut this shit out..."
"Merciful?" Easy laughed, spraying blood all over the floor in front of him. "Heh. Hurts t'laugh. Tell me 'bout it. I could'a caved your skull in anytime. In fact..." He pulled on Tirin's ankle, dragging himself forward to put his other arm into striking distance, "still could. C'n you fix that with your time bullshit, Newfie? Huh?"
"Yes." Tirin answered solemnly. "Whenever I die with my time powers active, I'll end up reverting automatically. Takes more time if the pieces are more spread out, but, still." He shrugged. "A nuclear goddamn explosion couldn't kill me. Let alone you. Maybe one day you'll get some common fuckin' sense and learn some manners, but you're not powerful enough to show me mercy. And right now," the light enveloped his eyes, and his hair began to rise and wave about, as if by some unknown wind, "I'm startin' to get too pissed off to show you any. Let. Go of my leg."
"Can't tell me how to live my life."
"That's literally exactly what I just did." With the last of his power, Tirin created a portal on the floor beneath them, watching Easy's eyes widen in surprise as he fell through. Only his grasp on Tirin's ankle now connected him to the world, while Tirin for his part floated smoothly above the hole, looking down at him within.
"That's a portal to Interspace" he explained calmly. "Outside dimensions. That's how I explain it to dumbass Mongoloids like you, anyway. I can go in and out whenever I want, but Interspace is infinite. Finding someone like you in there, and getting him out, would take more power than even I've ever got. You fall in there, you won't just be dead. You'll be deleted. Understand?"
Easy ground his teeth angrily, and said nothing.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Tirin smirked. "Now, apologize, admit that you're a stupid, Czech faggot, and give me your word that you'll quit trying to fight me, and I'll pull you back out. And hurry up with it, or I'll just close the damn portal around your arm. That's the last bit of mercy I've got."
Easy just glared at him, silent.
"No? Might wanna think real hard on this. It's the only way you're getting out of there, I promise you." There was a gleam in Tirin's eye. "And I'm no liar."
"Y'know..." Easy said carefully, as if thinking it over. "Yes?" Tirin encouraged him, mockingly.
"Y'know, you were right, in a way. I'm really not powerful enough to have mercy on you. I can see that now." Tirin rolled his eyes in response. "Yes, obviously. Now, are you gon-"
"But not for the reasons you think."
"Yeah, okay, so are you gonna-" Tirin stopped mid-sentence, and frowned. "Wait, what's this now?"
"What I'm saying is, Tirin, you should really know your place." Easy grinned bitterly and mirthlessly, showing a wide arrangement of red-stained teeth. "Because in a situation like this, when the chips are down, when you've pushed it to the edge and there's no going back... you're really not powerful enough to have mercy on me, either."
Tirin stared, trying to work out what he meant, when Easy pulled himself up with the one hand, and punched clear through his abdomen with the other. Overwhelming pain flooded his mind and paralyzed his actions as Easy dug around beneath his ribs, grabbed hold of something, and ripped it right out.
He saw Easy fall down into the void, still smiling, a handful of blood and guts in one hand. An extended middle finger on the other. He saw the portal close, and he collapsed to the ground, vision starting to fade. He saw Stealthy suddenly step out of a nearby shadow, and hold one hand up to an ear.
"Jackpot. Head to my location for package collection, and get the Committee together. We're moving to Phase Two."
And then darkness.
"Ah, so you do remember" Stealthy noted, seeing Tirin's reaction. "Good. I didn't think you'd actually believe it if I told you. Fun fact: we still can't figure out how to clone you, so we had to give you Easy's liver. How's that for irony? Y'know, since he took yours. No one else's could have handled the job." He chuckled. "And then, since it worked, and we already had the equipment all set up for it, we just grew Easy parts for all the rest of it, too. Why not?
"Losing so much of your own tissue's gonna make your time powers a lot weaker, but hey, you take what you can get. You should consider yourself lucky, you know. Closest donor match was technically W1LG3R, since he's also Canadian. I'd keep quiet about it, though. Who knows how much Req's gonna have to say about Easy being inside you?"
"So you have the cloning machine?" Tirin asked, ignoring the jibe. "Hm? Oh, yes," Stealthy answered. "Common knowledge out there by now. Kind of embarrassing, really. I must be slipping. I have no idea how they ended up tracing it back to me." He sounded slightly annoyed. "Well, whatever. Minor inconvenience. Speaking of which," he turned to the doctor, "Frilzer, you're free to go. Good job on this one. And, remember! Mum's the word."
"Yeah, yeah." Frilzer muttered, unhappily.
As he turned and started walking away, Stealthy nonchalantly drew a pistol and shot him in the back of the head.
"What?" He asked, seeing Tirin's expression. "It's not like he actually experienced it. We'll clone him if we need him again."
"Let me guess." Tirin's eyes narrowed. So he'd been right to be suspicious. "Just like Easy."
"Easy? No. Technically, it's against regulations to clone forumers unless they've been killed, and while I'm no legal expert, I'm not sure if getting removed from existence really counts." Stealthy looked away, avoiding his gaze.
"And besides... things are running the way I'd like them to, right now. You and Easy tend to complicate things."
"Bullshit." Tirin spat out. "Why'd you save me, then, huh? What the hell are you planning this time?"
"For old time's sake," Stealthy calmly replied, "and because you're not powerful enough to stop me anymore." He pushed a button on the pod, and Tirin's cuffs were released. He jumped out of the machine ready to attack, when a white-hot pain shot through his entire body and drove him down to his knees.
"Also," said Stealthy, holding up a small remote dial, "because I had a control module put in during the surgery, along with some other things. All rigged to blow if they're tampered with, of course." He didn't ease up on the dial, but stepped closer and then knelt down, bringing his face down to Tirin's level.
"Now, I don't actually have to tell you anything else, really," he said. "But I will give you just a bit of advice before you head out of here. First, you're the most wanted man on the forums, and I hear NFTea's offering a hell of a lot of Likes for anyone who brings them your head. Don't get caught. Second, we're pretty sure your time powers are going to wreak havoc on the transplants. I'd try to avoid using them, if I were you." He patted Tirin's shoulder with one hand, and then stood up and pressed another button on the remote. Almost immediately, Tirin went unconscious.
He woke up to the sight of an empty street, and the sound of approaching sirens. So he stumbled to his feet, and ran.
End of Prologue.
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Him replacing my organs to try and mind control me is dickish, but let's be real - I ain't worried 'bout that babydick, and he's gonna get fucked over for tryin' what he's tryin', as all evil and cowardly men do. Him acting like he owns the place, though? Like he's won!? That sort of behavior can't be tolerated.
Oh, he'd probably just have mind-controlled outright if he actually could. All that we're aware he can do so far, is cause crippling pain and/or loss of consciousness upon activation. As to why he kept Tirin alive in the first place, if that's the case, we're just gonna have to find out. Maybe it really is just for old time's sake.