Post by Pleakley on Apr 10, 2020 15:56:41 GMT
(February 7th, open to all who would be in Arendelle for the Festival! Come play a carnival game!)
The Rainbow Festival was in full swing on the streets of Arendelle. The cobblestones rang with laughter. The children of Queen Elsa’s city seemed to be the happiest they’d been since the Enchanted Suns moved in, for all the joyful noise they made dancing, chasing each other through confetti and between booths.
Over the cheery noise and bustle cried a commanding, if noodly voice.
”Step right up! Prove your strength in a traditional game of skill!” Pleakley’s three legs were windmilling beneath him as he paced back and forth, just to the side of the great bridge leading to the Palace. Long hands were cupped around wide open mouth, which shouted in his most energetic Earth Activity Announcer voice. ”Come one come all! Fabulous prizes!”
Pleakley had missed the first few days of celebration, locked up in Arendelle’s libraries. He’d needed to study. My first official Merged Worlds celebration and intend to experience it to the fullest! declared the alien to Jumba before vanishing. Of course there had been tomes, scrolls, research to do. Couldn’t just waltz in and play any old intergalactic game. If Agent Wendy Pleakley was hosting, he would have the perfect activity.
”You sir!” barked the noodle, single eye narrowing and pinning one of the members of foot traffic who had paused a moment. ”You look like the muscular equivalent of peak human anatomy!” He leaned in and elbowed the individual with one squiggly limb and murmured out of the side of his grin, ”Which of course I would know.”
The wide-open smile was back. His green tunic with a brightly colored Arandellian vest (which did not match, but the one thing Pleakley could sacrifice fashion for was tradition) as he spun like a living tassel toward a large flat rock. It had taken Pleakley all morning to get it here, but he couldn’t have anything less.
The alien’s whole head was an exclamation point of excitement, antennae straight up, enormous eye bulging. ”Well, now ya have the chance to prove it! In the traditional Arandellian game of ‘glima!’” After splaying both long arms to gesture at his rock proudly, Pleakley whipped his notepad from the back of his vest and scanned it with a droplet finger. He continued studiously, yet no less enthusiastically, ”According to my research, ‘glima’ or ‘wrestling’ is a game once played by ancient Arendellian warriors. Players’ only objective is to get their opponent to touch this ceremonial Earth ore concentration before getting thrown onto it themselves!” One green-tan hand slapped the rock. ”Fascinating, isn’t it? Whaddaya say?”
Pleakley whirled forward and slung a rope of an arm across the first person’s shoulders. He whirled toward the crowds again. ”Now all we have to do is find you a worthy opponent, my good man! Come onnn! Who’ll compete? I did mention the fabulous prizes!”
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The Rainbow Festival was in full swing on the streets of Arendelle. The cobblestones rang with laughter. The children of Queen Elsa’s city seemed to be the happiest they’d been since the Enchanted Suns moved in, for all the joyful noise they made dancing, chasing each other through confetti and between booths.
Over the cheery noise and bustle cried a commanding, if noodly voice.
”Step right up! Prove your strength in a traditional game of skill!” Pleakley’s three legs were windmilling beneath him as he paced back and forth, just to the side of the great bridge leading to the Palace. Long hands were cupped around wide open mouth, which shouted in his most energetic Earth Activity Announcer voice. ”Come one come all! Fabulous prizes!”
Pleakley had missed the first few days of celebration, locked up in Arendelle’s libraries. He’d needed to study. My first official Merged Worlds celebration and intend to experience it to the fullest! declared the alien to Jumba before vanishing. Of course there had been tomes, scrolls, research to do. Couldn’t just waltz in and play any old intergalactic game. If Agent Wendy Pleakley was hosting, he would have the perfect activity.
”You sir!” barked the noodle, single eye narrowing and pinning one of the members of foot traffic who had paused a moment. ”You look like the muscular equivalent of peak human anatomy!” He leaned in and elbowed the individual with one squiggly limb and murmured out of the side of his grin, ”Which of course I would know.”
The wide-open smile was back. His green tunic with a brightly colored Arandellian vest (which did not match, but the one thing Pleakley could sacrifice fashion for was tradition) as he spun like a living tassel toward a large flat rock. It had taken Pleakley all morning to get it here, but he couldn’t have anything less.
The alien’s whole head was an exclamation point of excitement, antennae straight up, enormous eye bulging. ”Well, now ya have the chance to prove it! In the traditional Arandellian game of ‘glima!’” After splaying both long arms to gesture at his rock proudly, Pleakley whipped his notepad from the back of his vest and scanned it with a droplet finger. He continued studiously, yet no less enthusiastically, ”According to my research, ‘glima’ or ‘wrestling’ is a game once played by ancient Arendellian warriors. Players’ only objective is to get their opponent to touch this ceremonial Earth ore concentration before getting thrown onto it themselves!” One green-tan hand slapped the rock. ”Fascinating, isn’t it? Whaddaya say?”
Pleakley whirled forward and slung a rope of an arm across the first person’s shoulders. He whirled toward the crowds again. ”Now all we have to do is find you a worthy opponent, my good man! Come onnn! Who’ll compete? I did mention the fabulous prizes!”
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