insertmeathere

For a brief moment, reunited with Puppet, Punchy's pleased. He snatches it out of the air and holds it to his chest before popping it back onto his right hand - a right had with much longer fingers, that make the familiar insides of the puppet foreign. And all that satisfaction is gone.

"How'd you kipe my face, yo?"

Soren watches, bewildered, as the person in his body cradles the bizarre little puppet to himself. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I want you to give back my body this instant."

"This," he says, poking himself emphatically in the chest, "Is unacceptable. I look like a street performer. A tasteless street performer!"

He scrubs his hands through Punchy's hair, tearing off the goggles. "And what is THIS?"

"Hey, my outfit is dope. Careful with those, I got them out of a mag! You wanna get dust and crap in your eyeballs?" Punchy fiddles with the puppet, trying in vain to get it into a comfortable wrap around his hand. "I look like a bitch, you think I'm cool with this?"

"Oh, yes. Obviously you're much more imposing when you're wearing a child's hand puppet. You look ridiculous."

"There's nothing wrong with my appearance. I'm a mage, not a musclebound thug." Soren frowns at Punchy's jacket, shedding that, too.

"This puppet is the BOMB. This puppet can kick your scrawny ass up to Tuesday! This puppet can - rrgh!" In frustration, Punchy reaches to flick down goggles that aren't there, and turns the puppet on a nearby wall and knocks a large hole straight through it. "See?"

He looks back down at his new body with disgust. "Yeah, okay, if you think dressing like some ho and using magic tricks is better than being jacked. But I don't. Now give me my body back, magic man."

"Oh, yes, you can punch through walls. You have my eternal admiration. I'm sure when it comes to besieging a castle, that ability will be of inestimable value when someone picks you off with a lightning spell." He shouldn't have given Punchy back that puppet.

"Excuse me? Magic tricks?" Soren doesn't know what a 'ho' is, but he knows when he's being insulted. "I'll have you know people can study for a lifetime and never master half the intricacies of the discipline."

"I'm a goddamn superhero, you prick! I'm awesome!" Punchy yells, only certain of about 80% of the words coming out of Soren's mouth. What the hell's 'inestimable'? Or 'besieging'? WHY IS THIS GUY USING BIG WORDS ON HIM THAT'S SO LAME.

"If you're so cool with your sparkly voodoo shit, then you oughta be the one to turn us back, dumbass."

Flustering Punchy, even just a little, is starting to calm Soren down. He's even smiling a little. Soren's been accused of having a terrible personality before, and that accusation is, in fact, kind of true.

He motions to Punchy's back, where a strange-looking staff is currently strapped. "Hand me that staff. If you've got even a speck of magic, I may be able to do something about this."

"So, wait, you think my bod can do magic?" He pulls the staff off his back with his left hand and hands it to Soren, keeping Puppet in front of him defensively and suddenly cursing that the Seminary never taught him much in terms of combat with magic. It'd be cool if he did have some magic in him, but somehow he doubts that.

The staff feels more natural in his hand than Puppet does. Punchy does not like this.

"Yeah, I'm thinking we're up you-know-what creek if you're banking on me having the bling-blang."

"Honestly? I have no idea. But almost everyone has at least a tiny portion, if they're even moderately experienced in battle."

He raises the staff in front of him, shutting his eyes as the gem inlaid in the stave suffuses the room with bright white light. He felt himself grow disoriented for a moment, and his knees buckled, but he did at least keep himself from sprawling out on the floor.

Would it work...?

It will!

"Holy shit I'm magic! I got the mothafuckin' power! Mad skillz with the pimp-stick, yo!" Punchy crows, getting up in his own body now and once again grabbing Puppet from Soren. "Fuckin' dope!"

"Yes, yes, you're magic," Soren says, a little wearily, brushing himself off. At least he's back in his own body, cursed though it may be. "Not terribly magic, but enough."

He holds out a hand. "Now, my staff, if you please? I've a lot of work to do, and I am now very behind."

"Can I do Harry Potter shit? Tell me I can do Harry Potter shit," Punchy says, handing the staff back.

"Harry Potter? What's Harry Potter?"

Seriously, what is it? Soren comes from a feudal period. "Like I said, almost everyone has at least a small amount of magical power. There is the occasional individual who has none at all, and for many, it's simply too low to ever justify pursuing the path of a mage. However, anyone reasonably talented willing to put forth enough effort can muster basic spells."

"He's this sick wizard who uses a wand and shit," Punchy says, probably not elucidating the situation much. "So like, if I haul ass over to the first magic school, can I do magic stuff too?"

Yes, Soren, he is now expecting you to teach him.

Soren snorts. "Well, I suppose so. If, in fact, you can find one accepting students."

Students like Punchy. Studying magic involves... well, studying. And reading.

'Accepting students' sounds like an application process. And he already did his applying back at the Seminary, and look where that got him. Well, technically it got him a mindfuck adventure and a conspiracy theory, but it also got him pointless hours spent in Superhero Ethics class and the counselor's office.

Screw that, he just wants to blow things up in the name of great justice.

"Ah well. I'm the bombest even if my magic's deep down," he boasts to Soren with a wide grin on his face.

Humor him, Soren. JUST HUMOR HIM.

"Yes, er. I'm sure you are indeed the 'bombest'," he says.

Whatever the hell 'bombest' meant.

:D

Re: Punchy

D'awww

Re: D'awww

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