[Of course, this would be the opportune moment for Strickler to be tugged away from his "homeworld". He was forced into finding planets to colonize? Of what use would that be to him? They did little to help the Changeling when he came aboard. After his run in with Angor Rot, and reviving Jim's mother from their "pact", he was both emotionally and physically exhausted. Which was apparent with the sling his arm was held in. However, he had to do his best to ignore the pain, especially when rather large alien creatures were chasing after him through the forest covered planet they were now dumped on.
He runs as fast as he can in his less than ideal attire. Dress pants, a blazer, turtle neck. His once smoothed back hair was disheveled, strands of his bangs hanging in his face as his eyes search for the next twist or turn he could take in the forest. For the most part, he is defenseless for this gathering quest he was put on.
His eyes glance forward, brows furrowed. The sun is still up. If he could buy a little more time, he could properly defend himself. Strickler could hear the pounding footsteps of the two creatures behind him. Large. Bulky. Cat-like, with exposed fangs, and thick claws that dug into the ground, gaining traction.
The man glances over his shoulder, to see how much of a lead he has on the creatures, before his shoe catches on a thick root of a tree, falling face first into the dirt and grass. Once he lands, pain shoots through his injured arm, the footsteps of the creatures thumping in his ears like thunder as he struggles to stand.]
B: Scenario 002
[Just their luck to have a storm like this. The Changeling glances outside, within the safety of the ship and crosses his arms. Aliens. Outerspace. He's familiar with different dimensions, but he's never dealt with space firsthand.
He purses his lips as his stomach churns, protesting at his lack of food intake. While Trolls and other Changelings ate socks and cats, he had finer tastes. Coffee, tea, steak, most human foods. And he's sure the other occupants of the fleet wouldn't be too happy with him eating whatever they had on board. With what they had on board, it sounded like edible food. Out there? Who knew what kind of supplies could be used or even eaten.
Strickler glances upward. The sun is down. And there was no way he was going out in his human form with possible hostiles outside.
So he prepares, his body transforming into something a little more green. Two large horns adorned his head. pointed ears, a cloak resting upon his shoulders... Claws clicked across the floor of the ship, as his yellow eyes, with slits for pupils, search for space equipment. He was unsure if it was safe to breathe outside. For all he knew, he could but, one could never be too careful. Plus, due to the fact they've seen many aliens, he doesn't think he'll draw too much attention with his true form. Call it an experiment.
His cape flourishes behind him lightly as he turns to see someone walk by.]
By chance, do you know what the oxygen levels are like?
Stricklander "Walter Strickler" | Trollhunters
[Of course, this would be the opportune moment for Strickler to be tugged away from his "homeworld". He was forced into finding planets to colonize? Of what use would that be to him? They did little to help the Changeling when he came aboard. After his run in with Angor Rot, and reviving Jim's mother from their "pact", he was both emotionally and physically exhausted. Which was apparent with the sling his arm was held in. However, he had to do his best to ignore the pain, especially when rather large alien creatures were chasing after him through the forest covered planet they were now dumped on.
He runs as fast as he can in his less than ideal attire. Dress pants, a blazer, turtle neck. His once smoothed back hair was disheveled, strands of his bangs hanging in his face as his eyes search for the next twist or turn he could take in the forest. For the most part, he is defenseless for this gathering quest he was put on.
His eyes glance forward, brows furrowed. The sun is still up. If he could buy a little more time, he could properly defend himself. Strickler could hear the pounding footsteps of the two creatures behind him. Large. Bulky. Cat-like, with exposed fangs, and thick claws that dug into the ground, gaining traction.
The man glances over his shoulder, to see how much of a lead he has on the creatures, before his shoe catches on a thick root of a tree, falling face first into the dirt and grass. Once he lands, pain shoots through his injured arm, the footsteps of the creatures thumping in his ears like thunder as he struggles to stand.]
B: Scenario 002
[Just their luck to have a storm like this. The Changeling glances outside, within the safety of the ship and crosses his arms. Aliens. Outerspace. He's familiar with different dimensions, but he's never dealt with space firsthand.
He purses his lips as his stomach churns, protesting at his lack of food intake. While Trolls and other Changelings ate socks and cats, he had finer tastes. Coffee, tea, steak, most human foods. And he's sure the other occupants of the fleet wouldn't be too happy with him eating whatever they had on board. With what they had on board, it sounded like edible food. Out there? Who knew what kind of supplies could be used or even eaten.
Strickler glances upward. The sun is down. And there was no way he was going out in his human form with possible hostiles outside.
So he prepares, his body transforming into something a little more green. Two large horns adorned his head. pointed ears, a cloak resting upon his shoulders... Claws clicked across the floor of the ship, as his yellow eyes, with slits for pupils, search for space equipment. He was unsure if it was safe to breathe outside. For all he knew, he could but, one could never be too careful. Plus, due to the fact they've seen many aliens, he doesn't think he'll draw too much attention with his true form. Call it an experiment.
His cape flourishes behind him lightly as he turns to see someone walk by.]
By chance, do you know what the oxygen levels are like?