POMPF!
was the sound that the flash of purple-green-yellow made as it spat the stout figure unceremoniously onto the cold ground below. It could, perhaps, have been described as a BLOMP! or a SPOOSH!, but neither really carried the soul-crushing weight of a good, old-fashioned POMPF!
The figure stood, dazed, but otherwise was considerably less affected by having just appeared out of thin air than they ought to have been. They at the very least looked humanoid, but any sex, age, or even race was left extremely ambiguous due to their entire body being covered head-to-toe in clothing, from the hood covering their hair to the thick-soled boots that were currently boosting their stature upwards of maybe two whole inches - even then, they were perhaps five feet tall.
They were just about to do what those who pop in and out of places they shouldn't do; assess their surroundings and plot a logical course of action afterwards, when suddenly the most delicious smell wafted through the thin bandanna wrapped around their nose and mouth. Small eyes squinted in confusion. Usually, they would be incredibly suspicious - however, the loud growl from their stomach protested otherwise. God, they were starving. The last time they had eaten was approximately two teleportations ago, in which they stole a food item off of a Galra soldier that was almost, but not quite like, a sandwich.
They turned around and nearly cried at the sight, not even bothering to read past the words "The Restaurant". Food. Glorious, glorious food - in abundance and ripe for the taking. Oh, thank the gods. It was the smell of coffee and pastries, of cheap liquor and distinguished rosés, of numerous other food items to supply the much-appreciated calories to this tiny, waifish figure.
They pushed open the door with their right hand without hesitation, even as their left dropped down to rub anxiously at the leather pouch secured to their ankle. It carried their most prized possession - a tiny morningstar, small enough to be concealed, deadly enough to escape in a pinch. If they got lucky, there wouldn't have to be too much of a fight...
was the sound that the flash of purple-green-yellow made as it spat the stout figure unceremoniously onto the cold ground below. It could, perhaps, have been described as a BLOMP! or a SPOOSH!, but neither really carried the soul-crushing weight of a good, old-fashioned POMPF!
The figure stood, dazed, but otherwise was considerably less affected by having just appeared out of thin air than they ought to have been. They at the very least looked humanoid, but any sex, age, or even race was left extremely ambiguous due to their entire body being covered head-to-toe in clothing, from the hood covering their hair to the thick-soled boots that were currently boosting their stature upwards of maybe two whole inches - even then, they were perhaps five feet tall.
They were just about to do what those who pop in and out of places they shouldn't do; assess their surroundings and plot a logical course of action afterwards, when suddenly the most delicious smell wafted through the thin bandanna wrapped around their nose and mouth. Small eyes squinted in confusion. Usually, they would be incredibly suspicious - however, the loud growl from their stomach protested otherwise. God, they were starving. The last time they had eaten was approximately two teleportations ago, in which they stole a food item off of a Galra soldier that was almost, but not quite like, a sandwich.
They turned around and nearly cried at the sight, not even bothering to read past the words "The Restaurant". Food. Glorious, glorious food - in abundance and ripe for the taking. Oh, thank the gods. It was the smell of coffee and pastries, of cheap liquor and distinguished rosés, of numerous other food items to supply the much-appreciated calories to this tiny, waifish figure.
They pushed open the door with their right hand without hesitation, even as their left dropped down to rub anxiously at the leather pouch secured to their ankle. It carried their most prized possession - a tiny morningstar, small enough to be concealed, deadly enough to escape in a pinch. If they got lucky, there wouldn't have to be too much of a fight...