Splinter Knight
rating: +16+x

I'm So Pretty, I Melt Your Face Off

"…Oh, damn it."

The armored figure curses as he pulls out a bottle of Almond Water, pouring it over the affected area before drinking the rest of the it down. He then throws it away, and starts digging around his belt for something else.

"Where is it, where is it…" he mutters, before his hands clasp around the familiar shape of his most recent favorite tool. "Ah!" The Red Knight sighs as he pulls out a makeshift flamethrower, shaking the can before pointing it at the plant growing on his arm and squeezing the trigger.

He grits his teeth beneath his helmet, hissing as the pain on his arm grows with each passing second. Once he feels the rest of the plant's charred remains fall off, he stops squeezing, causing the flames to die out and reveal the burnt marks on his arm. "Oooh, that stings…" he murmurs, putting the tool away and searching for bandages to cover up his injury.

He finds it. Now to just make sure that his moment of vulnerability isn't being observed by anyone. After all, it would be bad for the humans' morale to find out their great savior actually needs to treat himself…

The knight clicks his tongue, looking around to make sure that he's alone, before he starts wrapping the bandage around his wounded arm. Once he's done, he breaks the bandage roll off and puts it away, gently patting down its ends to make sure that it sticks as he gives a low, unhappy growl. He sits back, leaning against the wall as his sword rests comfortably against his leg.

"I hate this place." He breathes out. "I really, really hate this place." The office that he's licking his wounds in, offers no response, other than the hum of some unseen air-conditioning unit that always seems to be just around the corner, even though he can't actually find it.

Well, my job's done here anyways, isn't it? The Red Knight stands up, grabbing the armor he'd taken off earlier to treat the parasitic plant before putting it back on and experimentally shaking his arm a few times to make sure that it's been fastened correctly. Once he's satisfied with how tightly it clings to his arm, he grabs his sword, twirls it around, then slams it blade-first into the ground.

The instant his sword makes contact with the soft, fuzzy floor of the office building, space warps and breaks around it as he falls into a newly-created hole in the ground, which then closes as soon as he's through. He falls through the universe.

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