[ One moment he was frozen with the barrel of a gun pressed to his knee, the inexplicable sounds of rushing water and rustling trees that had been so quiet when he'd first rushed into this situation, suddenly sounding as if they were coming from all around him, making him feel light headed. The next moment he was closing his eyes as Deathstroke's rambling started to sound oddly far away, the seconds between the press of the gun and the click of it being cocked seemingly stretching on forever. And then somehow he was falling.
The crack of a gunshot finally going off sounds like a far-off echo, drowned out by whispers he could barely pay attention to as he scrambles to grab at roots, vines, or just the edges of the craggy hole he'd somehow been tossed in to. He even tries spinning his arms at super speed to slow his decent but none of it works.
Instead of hitting the ground though, things simply go black, and when he opens his eyes again it's once more to the sounds of rustling trees.
Jolting up, the first things he sees of his new surroundings are headless figures seemingly dancing around him, and he shrieks. As the noise startles several birds in the area into flying off though, two things become obvious: One - the figures 'dancing' around him were statues, not just your average slow moving people, and Two - those birds were moving far too quickly, which meant either they were speedster birds or he was no longer attached to the speedforce.
Calming himself down, he glared at the group encircling him as if they had startled him on purpose, muttering a quiet "Grife" at both them and the situation before remembering his knee. Groping for the limb and looking it over, it seemed and felt fine. There was no pain and certainly no gunshot. Whatever had brought him here must have gotten in the way of him actually taking the hit, which was some good news.
Pushing himself up, he ducks under the linked outstretched arms of two of the figures, sticking his tongue out at one of them as he passed by before moving further into the shining green ruins. ]
Bart Allen [Impulse] | DC Comics
The crack of a gunshot finally going off sounds like a far-off echo, drowned out by whispers he could barely pay attention to as he scrambles to grab at roots, vines, or just the edges of the craggy hole he'd somehow been tossed in to. He even tries spinning his arms at super speed to slow his decent but none of it works.
Instead of hitting the ground though, things simply go black, and when he opens his eyes again it's once more to the sounds of rustling trees.
Jolting up, the first things he sees of his new surroundings are headless figures seemingly dancing around him, and he shrieks. As the noise startles several birds in the area into flying off though, two things become obvious: One - the figures 'dancing' around him were statues, not just your average slow moving people, and Two - those birds were moving far too quickly, which meant either they were speedster birds or he was no longer attached to the speedforce.
Calming himself down, he glared at the group encircling him as if they had startled him on purpose, muttering a quiet "Grife" at both them and the situation before remembering his knee. Groping for the limb and looking it over, it seemed and felt fine. There was no pain and certainly no gunshot. Whatever had brought him here must have gotten in the way of him actually taking the hit, which was some good news.
Pushing himself up, he ducks under the linked outstretched arms of two of the figures, sticking his tongue out at one of them as he passed by before moving further into the shining green ruins. ]
Guys?! Is anyone else here?