[ By this sudden turn of events, a definite veering from the script, a deafening silence settles on their audience. A small girl asks her mother if Nithor the Exalted just died, terrified whisper trembling right above the din of the theater.
Ozymandias struggles in his costume, splayed as he is on the floor, wondering if this was such a great idea. As he speaks, he pretends to find it difficult to find words. This play has to end soon, after all, in some acceptable way. ]
Has the hero of Olympia fallen? Figures… I will not die… so easily… not by the hands… of some pathetic human…
[ Out of his view, the woman playing the damsel of distress tugs at Yona’s fallen form, beseeching her to stand up and finish slaying the dragon. Tired of acting herself, she walks over and begins kicking Ozymandias and the other fellow. ‘YOU… D-DUMB DRAGON!’ is about as eloquent as it gets. ]
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Ozymandias struggles in his costume, splayed as he is on the floor, wondering if this was such a great idea. As he speaks, he pretends to find it difficult to find words. This play has to end soon, after all, in some acceptable way. ]
Has the hero of Olympia fallen? Figures… I will not die… so easily… not by the hands… of some pathetic human…
[ Out of his view, the woman playing the damsel of distress tugs at Yona’s fallen form, beseeching her to stand up and finish slaying the dragon. Tired of acting herself, she walks over and begins kicking Ozymandias and the other fellow. ‘YOU… D-DUMB DRAGON!’ is about as eloquent as it gets. ]