King of Chaos

Clank, clank, clank. 

The large Zeti, with skin of bright crimson and hair of bright neon blue, walked around Eggman's shutdown machine that once sucked the life out of Sonic's home world. He walked up to the keyboard and stared at it. He wrapped one large hand around the switch and pulled it down, but nothing happened. What had they done to this machine? Why wouldn't it work anymore? He slammed his large, powerful hands on the keyboard and looked out at the edge of the structure where it dropped off into Sonic's world. His eyebrows furrowed as he walked over to the drop and looked down. That Hedgehog, he was down there somewhere, where else would he be?

Zavok turned around one last time. This was his home, but being down there he could probably do a lot.. more. There was no telling what he would find, who he would run into, but he could deal with anything that came his way. Act nice, get the inhabitants on his side and then deal with the hedgehog. It certainly sounded easy to him, manipulating creatures lower than he wasn't a hard task at all. When it was all over, he would be on top of the world. He would be the ruler. He would call the shots. Everything would be his for sure. Zavok erupted into a deep evil laughter, his voice was deep and husky, it flowed naturally between being loud and quiet, it was very modulated and pleasant to listen to if you weren't on his bad side. With a short hop, he fell towards Sonic's world and would soon begin to fly slowly downward. Wherever he landed, the first mobian he ran into that wasn't Sonic would soon be on his side. He was oh, so sure of it.

The park was a peaceful place. It was also certainly a cliche place but let's just brush that aside and focus on the present, shall we? There was a gentle breeze in the air, which caused the grass to sway from side to side, dead and decaying leaves to flutter away and be carried off to the unknown, thin, lanky branches to creak and whine on the trees which occupied the area, the water to ripple light in the fountain which let out a constant stream of pure clear bliss.

Sat on a bench, letting the wind flow through and ruffle his short, orange hair was a tapir, cyan blue in colour with the occasional darker blue markings. He was wrapped in brown mystic-like robes which draped at the ankles, and large orbs shaped into a necklace tied nicely around his neck, a few of the spheres even glowing slightly with a very faint white light. The man's eyes were closed, as he lightly tapped his cane against the gravel, a slight scraping sound filling the air, almost nonexistant to normal ears.

There was the sound of movement, and the tapir's ears twitched instinctively as he began to home in on the sound, and needless to say this fellow's hearing was absolutely spectacular. But even that sound caught him slightly off guard as he raised his head to the great blue sky above, the clouds parting for a large, red individual.

It was coming from above. There was a figure dropping down. That's certainly a start to a day, no?

A nice almost bare tree had it's few leaves still flowing in the slight breeze. A purple hedgehog sat underneath it with his scarf and trench coat on, adjusting his belt to keep his jeans up. "Stupid pants, how do people wear these all the time?" He questions not noticing the being falling down upon the land. (So short)

Outside on this fine day was a rather distinguished fellow, known locally by the name of 'Raphael Hall'. Well, 'known' is perhaps not the right word... Whilst many with a local knowledge might recognise the fire salamander for his descendence from a rather influential family, it was hard to say anyone could really tell you who he actually was. Indeed he made his odd public appearances - garden parties and the like, mostly attended by the rich (but largely open to the poor) were a regularity at his great home. Still, even there, he was just a passing glimpse of a man - a quick conversation for public appearance and away he would vanish again into obscurity.
Raphael however, did know something about himself. He knew that he was bored.

You see the high-class life had never been one to excite the young man. Whilst he could talk the talk, and could most certainly walk the book-on-head precisely-balanced walk, for him it was all a matter of... showmanship. He wanted adventure in his life. Excitement.

As such, when a large figure was noted as hurtling from the deep sky towards the central park, Raphael did the complete opposite of what would be advisable. Generally things hurtling from space or to be considered... uknown, and dangerous. Walking into such things could be suicidal.
But for a man so bored of day-to-day life, the potential of death was really just another thrill. He could feel curiosity welling up inside him as excitement sat on the horizon. And Raphael ran for it.

As Zavok approached the park falling at a very fast rate, he noticed three mobians below him. One simply looked up at him, and another was running towards where he was falling. He focused his attention on the one mobian that seemed to be oblivious to his falling from the sky, perhaps he would be first. The oblivious ones were always the easiest to turn, a little bit of smooth talking really got to them. He gave a strange look to the salamander who was running towards where he was landing. Right before Zavok hit the ground, he stopped in mid-air and took one last look around the park.

It was certainly different here. He landed, making sure that he had not actually hit the mobian that made a break for it towards him. How to start, then.. Play nice, play the nice guy and get everyone on your side. Surely the "nice guy" would please most mobians, would it not? Perhaps being too formal, he bowed slightly to the mobians that were paying attention to him. 
"Did I startle any of you?" He asked, honeyed words spilled from his mouth as he began to do what he did best. "My apologies."

That rush of wind, the sharp blade of a large object slicing the air in two with that sudden speed downwards, fell short, in fact so short a slight gust of wind blew forth from that halt, and the cyan tapir had to pause for a few moments to process what had just occurred. Large person hell. Large person stopped, since there was no impact, and now they were hovering. He paused for a moment, lowering his head, eyes remaining closed as he listened. There were others too. Fast, hurried footsteps and the sudden, surprised breathing of another. Were there others? He couldn't tell. The main focus was these people, and the falling one was interesting.

The sound of feet tapping against the ground - he assumed this as the hovering individual, the fast-paced running still a hum in his ears, ever growing. Their voice, as silk and smooth as silk, a pleasure to hear certainly; "You did not," replied the tapir, reaching upwards to fiddle with the odd white orbs around his neck with his spare hand, the man's own voice worn, tired, exhausted for some unusual reason - he seemed heavily enough, "A pleasure to see that some people have manners."

"Pfft startled." Screach stretches having no interest in what either the man or the tapir said. He was care free, tired, but care free. He slowly closed his eyes and rested his head back against the trunk of the tree, ready to dream away the problems occurring around him. (I try so hard to type a lot >.<)

"Startled?" the lizard screeched to a halt a small way away - apparently, despite his over-zealous interest, he had at least enough self-preservation to find a stopping point before their paths would have met, "Oh no, no, not at all my good sir. After all, I was on my approach to you." As Raphael spoke, every word was delivered with precision and class. It was like a dictionary had been opened, so that the exact words could be found to deliver the exact right intention in the exact right way. Controlled, measured.

"I take it, perhaps, that you are not from around here?" The statement was obvious, but in a way, that was the purpose. It was in invitation to conversation - offering the other party their own chance to speak and explain without being probed with questions.

Zavok looked to the Tapir and acknowledged his words with a nod, it's nice to know it was so easy to get to them with a few nice words. The common being gets along better with others when they don't know their true feelings, it takes a really good eye and ear to distinguish fact from fiction in a situation such as this. 
Ignoring the oblivious idiot, Zavok shifted his attention to the lizard. "Were you?" He chuckled. What an... interesting one, shall we say. 
Zavok took a look around at the mobians that were present. He didn't look like them one bit, so the question posed was strange to him. It was no matter, of course, answer and gain trust. 
"Yes, I suppose you could say that." He nodded yet again, smiling slightly. It was a warm, inviting smile, or at least it appeared to be that way to anyone who didn't know what to look for. "I fell from the sky, did I not?" He pointed towards the sky, though the Lost Hex was no longer visible from where they were standing. "I come from up there. Unfortunately, I was forced to leave my home. As I was already in this planet's atmosphere, I decided to see what this world was like up close for myself."

"Ah," Raph grinned, amber eyes fixed upon the zeti individual, "Well ambassador, may I be the first to welcome you to our humble planet." Following up this statement, the young salamander offered a slight bow. He was all class, and carried himself as such.
"As for my own approach, I was simply curious," he uprighted himself, "You had quite the dramatic entrance. Intrigues a mind such as mine."

"Out of all the stories I have heard from many, I have not heard of someone living in the skies," the blue tapir mused to himself, rubbing the base of his chin lightly with his fingers, eyes remaining closed and his brow furrowing as the large creature spoke of his predicament, "I thought it not possible, but I suppose in the world we live in I was foolish to think as such."

He looked up towards the beast, standing, the bones cracking a little at the effort of moving and he used that cane in his hands to adjust himself. One sigh later, with that necklace of orbs jingling and jangling in the wind from the movement, and he took slow, methodological steps towards him before pausing just a little off, raising his cane to point for emphasis, "Then you might want to go back to the world you came from, because I'm sure that is a peaceful place, and this one certainly is not," the man warned.