[If anything he has to say, this is a rude as hell awakening. One minute laying in his box and the next he’s awake and he can’t move. He figures it must be a wide-awake dream, sleep paralysis. After all, there was no giant bugs he ever remembered seeing in Ryslig. But after he waits to go back to sleep or get a new dream. But no, these are real bugs. And he’s really paralyzed.
Gregg keeps trying to will himself on the journey to wiggle loose, to magically roll out of their clutches. But this is his brain yelling at his body, a body that can’t really listen because well, bug paralysis.
He can’t help but think ‘at least it’s not a cult of old people’. Even in the dark of the tunnels he has to be grateful he wasn’t kidnapped by a crazed worshipper of the Fog God. As he gets that tingle in his body, the insects, wriggling his limbs back to the full range of movement.
But that doesn’t mean the bugs won’t leave him alone nooo. There’s one with a weird human face giving him the low down as other bugs feel him up with their antenna.
Gregg is kind of exasperated. Mostly because he didn’t get much sleep to begin with and now these antennae are really ticklish.]
So now there’s a BUG faction? I gotta worry about bugs now?! Eff! Big fat eff!!
B. It’s the time of your life (Febuary 15th)
No no dude. Moshing is easy. You guys just keep doing it wrong.
[Gregg tries demonstrating again. He’s been here for awhile and while they don’t seem they want to eat him...he’s gotta bide his time somehow, right? And since he’s a pooka, feeding off social company of other monsters is kind of what he does.
He gently bumps sides with a parasite, going around in a circle. Bump. Bump. Bump.]
Do that, but waaaaay faster and in a circle—wait wait—aaaaaaaaaah not like that!
[Ok Gregg might have regrets. The parasites decide to interpret moshing as ‘swarming around Gregg in a circular scuttle’. With so many just...running around him and over him he falls over, wiggling out of frustration.]
Ok that’s good! Maybe we just like...do pogoing! Aaaaaaah this sucks.
C. So live it well (Febuary 15th onwards)
[So this is his life now. God, he’s feeling nostalgic for Bavan of all places. At least with Castle Mirai he wasn’t dogpiled by a dozen parasites every time he tried to sleep. Or when he slept, he would suddenly wake up moving because he clung to a parasite that was up and busy during the night.
At least as a pooka he didn’t have a hard time searching the tunnels, so he could manage to slip away long enough to be alone for a bit until he would run into another captive here. Each time he did his reaction was the same:]
Holy shit, a not bug person.
But like, I think if it weren’t for all the bugs though, I’d live in tunnels more though. A tunnel boy.
[Wildcard]
[Gregg will be going in circles, going stir crazy in the tunnels and looking for a way out so if you want something else outside these prompts go right on.]
Gregg Lee | OTA
[If anything he has to say, this is a rude as hell awakening. One minute laying in his box and the next he’s awake and he can’t move. He figures it must be a wide-awake dream, sleep paralysis. After all, there was no giant bugs he ever remembered seeing in Ryslig. But after he waits to go back to sleep or get a new dream. But no, these are real bugs. And he’s really paralyzed.
Gregg keeps trying to will himself on the journey to wiggle loose, to magically roll out of their clutches. But this is his brain yelling at his body, a body that can’t really listen because well, bug paralysis.
He can’t help but think ‘at least it’s not a cult of old people’. Even in the dark of the tunnels he has to be grateful he wasn’t kidnapped by a crazed worshipper of the Fog God. As he gets that tingle in his body, the insects, wriggling his limbs back to the full range of movement.
But that doesn’t mean the bugs won’t leave him alone nooo. There’s one with a weird human face giving him the low down as other bugs feel him up with their antenna.
Gregg is kind of exasperated. Mostly because he didn’t get much sleep to begin with and now these antennae are really ticklish.]
So now there’s a BUG faction? I gotta worry about bugs now?! Eff! Big fat eff!!
B. It’s the time of your life (Febuary 15th)
No no dude. Moshing is easy. You guys just keep doing it wrong.
[Gregg tries demonstrating again. He’s been here for awhile and while they don’t seem they want to eat him...he’s gotta bide his time somehow, right? And since he’s a pooka, feeding off social company of other monsters is kind of what he does.
He gently bumps sides with a parasite, going around in a circle. Bump. Bump. Bump.]
Do that, but waaaaay faster and in a circle—wait wait—aaaaaaaaaah not like that!
[Ok Gregg might have regrets. The parasites decide to interpret moshing as ‘swarming around Gregg in a circular scuttle’. With so many just...running around him and over him he falls over, wiggling out of frustration.]
Ok that’s good! Maybe we just like...do pogoing! Aaaaaaah this sucks.
C. So live it well (Febuary 15th onwards)
[So this is his life now. God, he’s feeling nostalgic for Bavan of all places. At least with Castle Mirai he wasn’t dogpiled by a dozen parasites every time he tried to sleep. Or when he slept, he would suddenly wake up moving because he clung to a parasite that was up and busy during the night.
At least as a pooka he didn’t have a hard time searching the tunnels, so he could manage to slip away long enough to be alone for a bit until he would run into another captive here. Each time he did his reaction was the same:]
Holy shit, a not bug person.
But like, I think if it weren’t for all the bugs though, I’d live in tunnels more though. A tunnel boy.
[Wildcard]
[Gregg will be going in circles, going stir crazy in the tunnels and looking for a way out so if you want something else outside these prompts go right on.]