Before he could finish his
sleigh train of thought, the "most important man in that story" got ripped out of Zeus' vessel and was dropped from high above the unsuspecting civilians of wherever the Frosty the Snowman they were. Unlike
@Ayna Nietzsche who was able to slow her descent with her lightning and
@Yugam with his blood threads, Chrys only had rocks, and thus, only the rocks welcomed his arrival. He thought he was
blessed when he saw that a wagon filled with hay was right below him. That should make for a safe landing, right?
THUD!
"...ugh, well, wasn't that..."
SNAP!
The floor of the wagon gave up at the weight of Chrys' massive armor, dropping once again the greedy bastard this time through all that flimsy wood and face-first into the cobblestones that made up the road. Chrys groaned in "mild" pain. What remained of the wagon then moved past his fallen body, exposing himself to a mixture of confused onlookers and annoyed merchants. One of those latter in particular owned the wagon and was thus sent into throes of desperate screaming at the sight of his demolished business vessel.
"OH, MY GODS! WHAT 'AVE YA— WHO ARE YA— DONCHA KNOW HOW MUCH THIS WILL COST ME AND MY FAMILY OF TWELVE?!"
The man kept yammering on and on about his children and his wives and his goats and cows, stuff that Chrys didn't care much about. The adventurer just stayed there on the ground for a couple more seconds, his audible groaning as the background theme of the merchant's incessant ranting, before he heaved a sigh and finally pushed himself off the ground.
What is the point of dying if you can still hear some idiot's rambling?
"Relax, humble peasant... I can pay for the damages. How much does it— Oh, hey, Stevie Single-Seed! Fancy seeing you here in...where am I again?"
The man frowned, stopping his unnecessarily lengthy monologue. He squinted at Chrys, taking a few more seconds to realize that he knew him, and immediately groaned when he finally realized where they knew him.
"Ah, of course, it's you, ya massive oaf of a swindler! Don't even know where you're spreading your curse of poverty, eh? You're in Tertus Valley, right in the middle of Elania Highway!" Stevie Single-Seed shook his head in disbelief.
"But since you're here, and by the way, my name is Stuart Simpson, not whatever the heck you just called me, can I finally get my refund from my daughter's funeral? She was technically not dead, so I feel like the whole miscommunication with your parlor was a bit of a—"
Chrys did not have time for John Dingleberry's non-main-character bull poop, so he cut him off, pushed him aside, right at the exact moment when one of Ayna's weird drone things found him. His eyes wide in delight, his lips curled in a smile, he locked eyes with the hovering machine and nodded at it, even though it probably had no idea what he meant by that. The drone just turned and started flying back to where its maker was, and Chrys, who was at least smart enough to know that was probably what it was doing, started chasing after it. But not before tossing a pouch of gold, not his of course, at the hapless merchant whose wagon he just accidentally destroyed.
"Talk to you some other time, Dickon Maximoff! Say hello to your dead daughter for me! I must reunite with my friends! They need me! Toodle-oo!"
And then he was gone—for reals this time—probably, successfully wrapping up his part in all this stuff. (Unless he gets pinged or something.)
I'm coming, girls! Father is coming! Hohoho!
▣ Attire:
Bargain Bin Santa
