A Shy Little Friend
Mr. Dark stood atop the tallest cliffside he could find, scouring the valley below with a pair of binoculars. He groaned in mild frustration, as he had lost sight of his target about 10 minutes ago, and was struggling to relocate the young hero. Rayman was certainly difficult to keep tabs on at times, yet Dark felt oddly compelled to do so…
Rayman was last seen in the Dream Forest, and he had moved towards Band Land… Or was it the Blue Mountains? Dark clicked his tongue. Well and truly, he had lost complete and total track of Rayman. What kind of antagonist was he if he couldn't keep tabs on the hero? A strange feeling edged its way into his stomach, making him feel uneasy. Rayman was fine, surely.
He put his attention to the sounds around and behind him, attempting to change his line of thought. Although they were too heavy for that, he had first assumed the approaching footfalls were that of the playing Antitoons that surrounded him. After turning into a nightmare, they only seem to gravitate towards him more and more… He wasn't sure if they were corrupted Electoons, or if they had spawned simply in the presence of a new nightmare… Oddly, he hardly found himself minding their company. Daresay, he even liked them.
He adjusted the scope on his binoculars and readied himself to turn to a new location within the Glade, however his assumption of stomping Antitoons was quickly corrected when a voice spoke up.
“So this is where you're hiding!”
Mr. Dark couldn't help but jump at the playful statement, however he shrugged his “shoulders,” and lowered his binoculars to clean the glass with the hem of his cloak. He hoped that the movements would conceal his surprise.
He narrowed his eyes, taking a glance over his shoulder. It was the Magician, who bore a curious smile upon his face. Dark grunted, “This is the highest cliff in the Glade. I'm hardly hiding.”
The Magician tilted his head to one side, drumming his fingers against his wand, which he was leaning over, “I suppose you're right,” he mused, “But from the valley below, it's hard to tell what that blue speck at the top is–so I came looking!” he hopped from one foot to the other, tossing his wand in the air like a baton and catching it with the other hand, “Lo and behold, it’s Mr. Dark himself!”
The nightmare stared at the other Limbless for a brief moment, an eyebrow cocked. With a shake of his head, he turned back towards the valley, raising the binoculars back to his face, “Well, your curiosity ought to be satisfied, now. Why don't you toddle back to giving Rayman needlessly difficult challenges?” his claws tightened around the edges of the binoculars, “Unless, of course, you plan on attacking me.”
“You’re certainly one to talk,” the Magician stated just under his breath, before throwing his hands into the air, “Oh goodness no!” he proclaimed, “I'm hardly a match for the evil Mr. Dark!” he exaggerated his voice in jest.
“Then are you here to expose my location to Rayman?”
“Well, wouldn't you leave by the time I told him?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I'm not here for that, either!”
Grunting, Dark did little to hide his annoyance, tapping one claw against the rim of the binoculars a few times. But so long as the Magician didn't do anything, he supposed there was no reason to chase him from the cliff top. He attempted to tune the other out, and turned his sights to Picture City. At long last, he had relocated Rayman, who was bouncing around the erasers with a goofy grin planted on his face. From where he stood, it almost looked like the limbless hero was enjoying himself, even as his hands and feet flew freely away from his body. In a sense, that brought Mr. Dark some relief. Was that embarrassing?
That was when he noticed the sound of an insistent tapping behind him. Turning his head sharply, he glowered at the Magician. He was tapping his foot against the ground, as if expecting something…
“Then what are you here for?” Dark demanded with a low growl. What an annoying sound.
As it turns out, the Magician’s gaze was not intently bearing into the nightmare, but had instead turned towards the Antitoons that were practically orbiting Mr. Dark. Without adjusting his attention, he replied, “Just as you said: I'm here to satisfy my curiosity!” he finally threw a smile up at the cloaked figure, and twirled his wand, “I suppose you're expecting me to leave now, aren't you?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose I could…” he continued to dawdle, scratching his large snout with the end of his wand, “... Are you going to chase me out?”
Dark glowered further, his facial features creasing with disgust, “Do you want something from me?” oddly, he didn’t answer the Magician’s question.
The Magician continued to twirl his wand, his expression a mixture between discomfort, and amusement. It was a rather odd expression, but one that gave the impression that he was indeed contemplating something. Lowering his binoculars to his side, Dark stood tall and towered over the limbless. He flicked his cape to one side and placed his free hand against his hip.
“Do you want to ask me something?”
The Magician opened his mouth to answer, but seemingly changed the subject immediately by gesturing towards the Antitoons. They still surrounded Dark’s feet, but by now they had taken interest in the Magician, edging closer and closer to the stranger, and daring themselves to nip at his heels, or his long blond hair.
“These fellows are quite cute,” he said. Though Mr. Dark didn't respond, he continued, “They're terribly nippy in the valley, yet here they seem fairly polite, like rambunctious children!”
“No, they're pretty troublesome.” Mr. Dark drawled.
“Aren’t most children? I'm sure they're fine!”
Mr. Dark smirked, the corner of his mouth peeking over his collar, “You'll say that… Until they take a bite out of your hand.”
To hammer in this statement, the Antitoon the Magician offered his hand to made a full attempt at chomping down on his fingers–but the Limbless withdrew his hand with a swift motion. He appeared to take it in good spirits, chuckling and wagging his finger at it like a scolding mother.
The Antitoon stuck its tongue playfully at the Magician, then retreated to Mr. Dark’s heels. Whatever kind of interaction this was made the others bold enough to approach, each with new tactics to get close and nip at him, or poke at him with their tiny, floating hands.
“As I said,” the Magician hummed, “Rambunctious children!”
Dark rolled his eyes, but silently observed the Magician interact with the Antitoons further. They hovered around him, bounced this way and that, and crawled about in his locks of hair. The Limbless picked them up, and playfully poked at them with either end of his wand. He even threw a few fistfulls of glitter at them, and they cooed in delight. There wasn't any malicious intent in either party. If anything, they seemed casually interested in one another. Dark almost felt like a bemused father, watching this transpire. While he would have normally revolted at the feeling, he was just distracted enough to not notice…
Admittedly, he knew very little about the Magician. He had helped Betilla with a few nightmares, that much he knew. Namely Jano, who he had sealed within the Cave of Bad Dreams. Yet, he was acting so casually around Mr. Dark, the newest of big bads, the latest of nightmares, that had strewn chaos around the Glade… Why was that?
All the same, Dark didn't really mind the Magician. He didn’t so much as dislike him! Yet he still found the fellow to be quite the goody-two-shoes, and a painful kiss-up to that moron Polokus.
… Or at least, that’s what he thought. He really did know nothing about the guy.
But one thing was certain: he interacted well with the Antitoons–surprisingly well for a so-called good dream.
The Magician tucked his wand into his hat, then scooped an Antitoon into his hands. It rolled around gleefully in his palms. When they showed interest in his hat, he happily took it off to show them the empty inside, and they all cried in shock when they couldn’t find the wand inside it. When they would nip at him gently, he didn't seem to balk. When they climbed into his hair, he hardly seemed to mind.
There was something that was scratching at the back of Mr. Dark’s mind, ever since he had become a nightmare. He had one personal Electoon as a Limbless, which had turned into an Antitoon after being exposed to the sudden surge of nightmare magic. And although the transition was smooth, the little one didn't take well to there being hundreds more bouncing all around him. They were each far more boisterous than he was… While they would bite, jump and hover around, this particular Antitoon was incredibly keen on hiding within his cloak and hat.
Although he wouldn't admit it, Mr. Dark was growing concerned that the others would bully this timid little orb! And he certainly couldn’t have that.
Wordlessly, he reached into his hat and located the orb in question. He had particularly long hair, and bore weepy little eyes. He rested in the palm of his father’s hand, clinging to his thumb much like a child would clutch the leg of their parent. He peeked at Houdini, blinked, then turned his gaze up to Mr. Dark. Setting the Antitoon he held back on the ground, the Magician tilted his head ever so slightly, and smiled warmly.
“Oh? And who's this little fellow?”
“A very shy Antitoon,” came Dark’s reply, “He doesn't quite fit in with the others.” his eyes drifted to the ground, then slowly returned to the Magician, “You seem to get along fine with them, even if they are miniature nightmares.” There was a long pause as Dark seemed to struggle with the next part. The Magician leaned forward slightly, as if he was anticipating what was going to be said next.
“Perhaps he’d be better in your care for now… If you’re willing.” Dark continued, “And if he’s willing, as well.”
The Antitoon stared at Dark, before glancing back at the Magician. The limbless lifted a hand and gently wiggled his fingers and chirped a quiet hello. Eventually, the Antitoon turned back to Mr. Dark, and nodded.
“Oh, I’d love to!” hummed the Magician. He held out his hands, and carefully cupped the little one in his palms. He seemed to fit perfectly, and stared up at him with hopeful, yet tearful eyes. That was when he noticed he didn't have a mouth, unlike his brethren… How odd. If it was important, surely Mr. Dark would have said something.
“You’re in good hands–literally!” the Limbless chimed.
“Good.” Dark replied flatly. He stared for a moment longer, as if he was going to say thank you… But instead, he turned back to the valley, and lifted his binoculars once more, “You can go, now.” he ordered.
There was a long pause yet again, but eventually he heard the shuffling of the Magician's feet as he walked away. Focusing back on the Glade, Mr. Dark found that Rayman had made his way to the first stage of Space Mama's performance.