Artesian wrote:And speaking of intros, what do y'all think of this one?Click!
My senses were instantly on full alert. Click was never a good sound to hear when you're infiltrating a mad-scientist's lair. Click was the sound preceding swinging blades, disappearing floorboards or giant mousetraps setting in preparation for your unwary foot. I swallowed and drew my gun cautiously, scanning about me for the slightest hint of something odd.
Well, odd for a mad-scientist's lair. I've seen a few, you know, and they tend to fall into two categories: disorganized messes, and obsessive neatness. The disorganized messes usually have more accidental traps (rickety shelving units, paper avalanches, beakers of 'lemonade') than intentional ones. The obsessively neat lairs are simplistic to the point of creepiness. Some mad-scientists organize screws, and file everything in cabinets. They tend to have traps which, if you can spot the minute signs, are easy to avoid. The messes are far worse.
This one was a mess. It contained far too many things that whispered their pleas to be touched. Shiny bits of oddly gleaming metal. Large red buttons. Bits of wire vibrating in a glass box. Electrical arcs. To me, there are few things more beguiling than switches and buttons and pretty blinky lights.
Other heroes talk about this. They call it the Curious Cat syndrome. (Actually, they don't call it that. Heroes tend not to use grandiloquent words. They say things like, “I need to watch my language, don't touch that! What are you, mad?”) I've got the Curious Cat worse than most. Everyone says I should have been an engineer instead of a hero, but I was never one for regular nine-to-five jobs. Heroes work by the contract, and are paid by the job. Of course, it's almost impossible to get life insurance.
That sounds good (:
Really, makes me want to know more.
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