"Let me ask you again, mister. What's your name?"
He stayed silent for a brief moment, pondering. After a few seconds, he spoke. The smooth, friendly voice that came out of his throat not quite matching his intimidating appearance.
"My name is Clive. Don't bother asking me for my last name because I can't remember it, or maybe it's because I don't use it anymore. It's just Clive. As a bonus, let me tell you that yes, I have experienced plenty of things including but not limited to battling a three headed dragon that breathes acid and babysitting a baby werewolf but locked up in a police station in a universe where George Bush was never president is a first. If you could kindly show me the exit back to where I came from I will be very grateful." He said, checking a watch-like device on his shackled wrists as he did so.
"Sir, he wouldn't let us take off his mask. We think it's stuck to his face via some technology or something. It's not coming off." the sweating police officer reported as he emerged behind an unnervingly calm Clive.
The detective at the other end of the table leaned in, his piercing brown eyes staring at Clive's helmet, "Look, Clive. I don't care what you've done, but I want to know why you are found besides two of my men, dead on the ground with several bullet wounds on them? Heck, we even found a gun on you. You're going away along with that fancy hat of yours if we match it to the bullets."
"Alright, officer. I already told you I didn't kill them. It was the freaky guy with the glowing black arm and pumpkin on his head. That's the guy you should be looking for." Clive replied, completely convinced that what he just said is the truth.
"Let's say you didn't kill them, huh? Let's say that pumpkin head you just described actually shot my men. It still doesn't explain why you're running around town dressed like a character out of a sci-fi movie. What's with the helmet anyway? What're trying to hide, hmm?" The detective maintained his distance, not breaking eye contact with the reflective visors of the helmet.
"Alright, it's almost time so I might as well leave you with this before I leave." Clive leaned in, attempting to move his hands to a more comfortable position. "You know, who doesn't like feeling like a galactic evil overlord when you're hoisting someone in the air and sucking the air out of their lungs with your mind? It feels great, especially when you feel like an evil galactic overlord. You've seen that movie right? The one with the glowing swords and the giant planet of death that shoots laser and stuff." Clive leaned back once he stopped speaking.
"You think you're gonna break out of here, freak? I'm gonna have you locked up and you'll never see the dark side of yours, pal." He gestured for the officers to take Clive to the cell, standing up and taking the files with him.
Clive sighed, snapping his fingers. The shackles on his wrists and his ankles snapped, and he stood up, stretching his arms in the process. The two officers behind them stood there, shocked by what just happened before them, as did the detective who just questioned him.
"Oh, don't look so surprised. You're making me blush." Clive said, snapping his fingers. The officer to his left bent over in pain and flew back, hitting the wall with a large thud. The two officers behind him broke out of the shock, reaching for their batons to attack him.
Clive ducked and spun, splaying his palms, summoning a strong current of air and hoisted both of them in the air and sent them flying against the other wall of the room. The door opened, revealing an officer with a pistol aimed at Clive. Clive turned to him and sent a him back into a wall with a surge of compressed air, knocking him off his feet. He pushed away the table with a small gust of wind, and grabbed the detective, and levitated him into mid-air, smirking.
"I wouldn't mind doing this over and over again, you know? I mean yeah I belong to a unit where we're supposed to do this to supernatural beings but hey, this is cool too." He said lightheartedly, casually beginning to choke the detective.
The detective coughed, "you… freak. Y…you won't… get away… with… this…" He began to lose conscious, but he grit his teeth, radiating defiance.
"Oh, but I already have." He chuckled, letting the detective go and leaving him on the ground, gasping for air. "Oh, and just for the giggles, here." He fixed his black coat and cleared his throat, "I find your lack of faith… disturbing." Clive said, his voice unusually deep.
The sorcerer left the interrogation room, picking up his notebook on the way. As he stepped outside, he noticed the night sky, casually murmuring to himself about how long the whole ordeal took. He took out his antique pocket watch and checked the time, smiling inside his helmet. He then took out his notebook, telling himself he should prepare the way back to where he came from.
Opening the portal, he first saw the familiar grocery store of the desolate town he was in approximately six hours ago. He walked through the portal, once again fiddling with the watch like device on his wrist. "…..Hello? Clive? Do you copy?"
The sorcerer smiled again, "Yep, loud and clear, just got back from a world where George Bush Jr. was never president. I'll tell you all about it, just get Steve here ASAP. I'm stuck in a ghost town and I need a way back, so tell the Dullahan to make it quick because I could really use some lunch."
He stayed silent for a brief moment, pondering. After a few seconds, he spoke. The smooth, friendly voice that came out of his throat not quite matching his intimidating appearance.
"My name is Clive. Don't bother asking me for my last name because I can't remember it, or maybe it's because I don't use it anymore. It's just Clive. As a bonus, let me tell you that yes, I have experienced plenty of things including but not limited to battling a three headed dragon that breathes acid and babysitting a baby werewolf but locked up in a police station in a universe where George Bush was never president is a first. If you could kindly show me the exit back to where I came from I will be very grateful." He said, checking a watch-like device on his shackled wrists as he did so.
"Sir, he wouldn't let us take off his mask. We think it's stuck to his face via some technology or something. It's not coming off." the sweating police officer reported as he emerged behind an unnervingly calm Clive.
The detective at the other end of the table leaned in, his piercing brown eyes staring at Clive's helmet, "Look, Clive. I don't care what you've done, but I want to know why you are found besides two of my men, dead on the ground with several bullet wounds on them? Heck, we even found a gun on you. You're going away along with that fancy hat of yours if we match it to the bullets."
"Alright, officer. I already told you I didn't kill them. It was the freaky guy with the glowing black arm and pumpkin on his head. That's the guy you should be looking for." Clive replied, completely convinced that what he just said is the truth.
"Let's say you didn't kill them, huh? Let's say that pumpkin head you just described actually shot my men. It still doesn't explain why you're running around town dressed like a character out of a sci-fi movie. What's with the helmet anyway? What're trying to hide, hmm?" The detective maintained his distance, not breaking eye contact with the reflective visors of the helmet.
"Alright, it's almost time so I might as well leave you with this before I leave." Clive leaned in, attempting to move his hands to a more comfortable position. "You know, who doesn't like feeling like a galactic evil overlord when you're hoisting someone in the air and sucking the air out of their lungs with your mind? It feels great, especially when you feel like an evil galactic overlord. You've seen that movie right? The one with the glowing swords and the giant planet of death that shoots laser and stuff." Clive leaned back once he stopped speaking.
"You think you're gonna break out of here, freak? I'm gonna have you locked up and you'll never see the dark side of yours, pal." He gestured for the officers to take Clive to the cell, standing up and taking the files with him.
Clive sighed, snapping his fingers. The shackles on his wrists and his ankles snapped, and he stood up, stretching his arms in the process. The two officers behind them stood there, shocked by what just happened before them, as did the detective who just questioned him.
"Oh, don't look so surprised. You're making me blush." Clive said, snapping his fingers. The officer to his left bent over in pain and flew back, hitting the wall with a large thud. The two officers behind him broke out of the shock, reaching for their batons to attack him.
Clive ducked and spun, splaying his palms, summoning a strong current of air and hoisted both of them in the air and sent them flying against the other wall of the room. The door opened, revealing an officer with a pistol aimed at Clive. Clive turned to him and sent a him back into a wall with a surge of compressed air, knocking him off his feet. He pushed away the table with a small gust of wind, and grabbed the detective, and levitated him into mid-air, smirking.
"I wouldn't mind doing this over and over again, you know? I mean yeah I belong to a unit where we're supposed to do this to supernatural beings but hey, this is cool too." He said lightheartedly, casually beginning to choke the detective.
The detective coughed, "you… freak. Y…you won't… get away… with… this…" He began to lose conscious, but he grit his teeth, radiating defiance.
"Oh, but I already have." He chuckled, letting the detective go and leaving him on the ground, gasping for air. "Oh, and just for the giggles, here." He fixed his black coat and cleared his throat, "I find your lack of faith… disturbing." Clive said, his voice unusually deep.
The sorcerer left the interrogation room, picking up his notebook on the way. As he stepped outside, he noticed the night sky, casually murmuring to himself about how long the whole ordeal took. He took out his antique pocket watch and checked the time, smiling inside his helmet. He then took out his notebook, telling himself he should prepare the way back to where he came from.
Opening the portal, he first saw the familiar grocery store of the desolate town he was in approximately six hours ago. He walked through the portal, once again fiddling with the watch like device on his wrist. "…..Hello? Clive? Do you copy?"
The sorcerer smiled again, "Yep, loud and clear, just got back from a world where George Bush Jr. was never president. I'll tell you all about it, just get Steve here ASAP. I'm stuck in a ghost town and I need a way back, so tell the Dullahan to make it quick because I could really use some lunch."
