[ that's his cue to let the wild rumpus start, then ( no, but gengar knows when things should be serious-- well, most of the time ). silver has to juggle running and picking the right ball, but he's got it in his hand finally. weavile watches— still a bit reluctant to leave, but when silver gives a wave of command to the mess gaining on them: ]
Let the others through, just focus on the car! [ a plan that might have sounded crazy at first— sure, let all the other ghosts go for them! feather weasel has reason to look worried, and gives him said look for a few moments— stern, but there's enough trust here for him to give a curt nod after. ]
We'll be fine—Go. [ weavile stops right in his tracks then, turns to face the oncoming vehicle. things were going to happen fast here, so he had to do his part well. he huffs, inhaling sharply and letting his chest inflate until it seems ready to burst, holds, waits until just the very last moment— and when headlights beam in his eyes, he lets that air he's been holding in out in a harsh woosh of wind. ice cracks over every bit of surface it touches, from the ground to metal, and just as fast as the sound rings behind the boys, the car is no more. or, is, it's just been massively frozen into place like the worst blizzard in history focused and compacted into seconds.
and that's where gengar comes in; the free ghosts that had chased dipper and now accompany the car go wild and fly ahead when the frost strikes, dispersing but coming back into a group as they hone in on their targets. they seem to have claws out, and those overlapping whispers almost feel like they're going to drill into their heads. silver clicks gengar's ball open and tosses the device up ( it makes a crack, a light that pops out and replaces it with the dark figure of gengar's shadow ), and also makes sure to grab at the collar of dipper's clothes so he doesn't keep running when silver seems to stop. nope, he's not taking any chances. he's trying to stay as leveled as possible, but it's a little more than clear that there's a touch of fear in his eyes, with the way his heaves under the huffs from running shake him up.
gengar was a goof with a twisted sort of humor and a knack for trouble, he was, but when the pattering of his "silly boy"'s heart rattled that way— ah, that pushed a few different buttons that switched his playfulness to protection. gengar slams into the ground as they stop, already looking in the direction of the ghosts, with his arms spread out as if to form a wall, while silver crouches down behind him and pulls dipper over to do the same. they don't see it, his spiky back is to them, but his irises form excited slits, devilish grin lifting and curling so high you'd think it'd start coming off of his face. his tail twitches, left and right. like that of a cat that's found something, and the only signal to the package he presents is a low, scheming laugh enough to bring shivers.
gengar's body seems to fade, form gas as he takes a more flexible form, larger and waiting— he lets the ghosts come, together in that chorus of wails. lets them get close oh so close . . . so that he could lunge at them, and quite literally sink his teeth into them. his jaws envelope them whole, each and every ghost getting sucked and slurped into him until his cheshire grin shuts with a clean clasp, and body beginning to take its usual form. he flutters down, stubby hands to his tummy while they all visibly thrash in his mouth, pushing from the inside of his cheeks ( he even hops on one foot comically as they move-- whoa there! ). he chews once, a gushy sound mixing about from him, his tongue moves around— and sure enough, the harsher movements seem to slowly die out, losing its rage, and gengar chuckles. pleased, and satisfied.
( 1 / 2 )
Let the others through, just focus on the car! [ a plan that might have sounded crazy at first— sure, let all the other ghosts go for them! feather weasel has reason to look worried, and gives him said look for a few moments— stern, but there's enough trust here for him to give a curt nod after. ]
We'll be fine—Go. [ weavile stops right in his tracks then, turns to face the oncoming vehicle. things were going to happen fast here, so he had to do his part well. he huffs, inhaling sharply and letting his chest inflate until it seems ready to burst, holds, waits until just the very last moment— and when headlights beam in his eyes, he lets that air he's been holding in out in a harsh woosh of wind. ice cracks over every bit of surface it touches, from the ground to metal, and just as fast as the sound rings behind the boys, the car is no more. or, is, it's just been massively frozen into place like the worst blizzard in history focused and compacted into seconds.
and that's where gengar comes in; the free ghosts that had chased dipper and now accompany the car go wild and fly ahead when the frost strikes, dispersing but coming back into a group as they hone in on their targets. they seem to have claws out, and those overlapping whispers almost feel like they're going to drill into their heads. silver clicks gengar's ball open and tosses the device up ( it makes a crack, a light that pops out and replaces it with the dark figure of gengar's shadow ), and also makes sure to grab at the collar of dipper's clothes so he doesn't keep running when silver seems to stop. nope, he's not taking any chances. he's trying to stay as leveled as possible, but it's a little more than clear that there's a touch of fear in his eyes, with the way his heaves under the huffs from running shake him up.
gengar was a goof with a twisted sort of humor and a knack for trouble, he was, but when the pattering of his "silly boy"'s heart rattled that way— ah, that pushed a few different buttons that switched his playfulness to protection. gengar slams into the ground as they stop, already looking in the direction of the ghosts, with his arms spread out as if to form a wall, while silver crouches down behind him and pulls dipper over to do the same. they don't see it, his spiky back is to them, but his irises form excited slits, devilish grin lifting and curling so high you'd think it'd start coming off of his face. his tail twitches, left and right. like that of a cat that's found something, and the only signal to the package he presents is a low, scheming laugh enough to bring shivers.
gengar's body seems to fade, form gas as he takes a more flexible form, larger and waiting— he lets the ghosts come, together in that chorus of wails. lets them get close oh so close . . . so that he could lunge at them, and quite literally sink his teeth into them. his jaws envelope them whole, each and every ghost getting sucked and slurped into him until his cheshire grin shuts with a clean clasp, and body beginning to take its usual form. he flutters down, stubby hands to his tummy while they all visibly thrash in his mouth, pushing from the inside of his cheeks ( he even hops on one foot comically as they move-- whoa there! ). he chews once, a gushy sound mixing about from him, his tongue moves around— and sure enough, the harsher movements seem to slowly die out, losing its rage, and gengar chuckles. pleased, and satisfied.
it's a ghost eat ghost world out here huh ]