Healers incorporated (Astrid, and whoever asks nicely enough)

Gwharr was feeling rather annoyed right now. The "World of lights" up above him had once again managed to aggravate him to the level where he took his frustrations out on inanimate objects in the only way he knew how to. Or rather, the only way he knew how to without resorting to violence. The Answer was as simple as it was effective. Caveman Graffiti. Gwharr knew that this was ONE thing that had never gone out of style since the good ol' days when he hobnobbed with mammuts and sabertooth tigers and his strength and leadership-talents gave him the pickings of the most beautifull women of the tribes. He had seen it out on the walls of the big, weirdly artificial caves when he had been out walking, and he had especially seen them in the poverty-stricken areas. The areas where the downtrodden and angry people dwelled. The outcasts.

He snorted happily to himself. The topsiders might think they had evolved so much since his days, but he knew they had not. True, they where alot more knowledgeable these days, and they might live a little longer and have methods to get rid of unwanted body-hair, but that did not change all that much in the end. This "civilized" mentality was like a thin layer of ice on a pond of primordial urges. When something moderately distressing happened around them, this civilized membrane 'cracked' and they partially regressed to the humanity he had known so long ago. When something major happened to them and their precious society the 'sheet' of civilization shattered entirely, and they instantly regressed to the humanity he had ruled over oh-so-many years ago. He had seen that the vaneer of civilization was crumbling in the decrepit areas of town. Brute strength and force of arms meant alot more there than it did in the rest of society. Soon enough civilization would fall, and the world that Gwharr had known and loved would return. Free of their petty rules and strange morals. They would be as they were. As he wanted them to be.

However, the Big, Brutish, Bitter Bruisers thoughts where interrupted by the sounds of footsteps down the tunnels. . . Again. . . Maybe it was one more of those annoying men with death-sticks that wanted to drive him away. Let them come! He would show them what happened to interlopers. And after he had shown them, their skulls would end up in his collection and their bones would be fashioned into usefull tools.

The caveman snarled as he got up onto his feet and slowly knucklewalked towards the sound, ready to pounce on whatever it was that made them

Astrid was feeling a bit on the adventerous side today. She had missed out on a bunch of her jogging sessions due to helping Doc and Death with their various projects, and she hadn't had time to squeeze in a good run. She was currently suppose to be on the down low, so she decided to take her jog, well, down low. Astrid was just happy to be out running again, she didn't care too much about the location. Her long pale hair was twisted into a braid, and it bounced against her shoulders as she ran. This was cake, she wasn't even close to feeling the burn. She could run for hours without stopping, and thats what she had intended to do.

However, her plans seemed to never work out, and it didn't seem as if this one would either. She slowed to walk as she made her way down a particular tunnle, sensing something was out of place. This always happened to her, and it was starting to piss her off. Someone always had to fuck with her, fate didn't seem to like the White Rabbit.

Astrid atempted to be quiet as she made her way down this particular tunnle, her spine tingling with slight anticipation. She slowed to a stop, her breathing shallow and quick. She gave herself a quick pep talk, and slowed her breathing, taking in her surroundings for a moment. Finally, with a few false starts, and a slightly shaky voice, the pale maiden managed to croak out a few obvious words. "Is there anyone there?" He rvoice echoing softly of the walls as she halted all motion, her heart quivering as her adrenaline piped through her veins, her flight reaction was evident in her posture.

Gwharr slowly aproached the sound of footsteps, obviously made by malicious malcontents determined to destroy the little utopia he had created for himself down here. Presumably out of jealosy or something equally petty. Gwharr felt the mere thoughts of intruders angried up his blood something fierce. A low, almost unhearable, but still menacing growl escaped from between his gritted teeth and parted lips. His face was a mask of blazing rage unquenchable bloodthirst. His eyes darted around to find anything to throw at the invadors once he made visual contact. Prefferably something pointy or sharp, so that it would be a clean one-hit-kill. Nothing fancy. No limb-ripping or innard-spreading gore-fest, and more importantly. No more cave-ins. He had already had one too many of those when he fought the "son of sun" back in the western tunnels. He did not need to inadvertedly destroy another part of his kingdom.

However, his less than friendly thoughts where interrupted by a rather high-pitched, somewhat frightened voice asking if anyone was there. It emmideately brought to mind those horror-movies he had seen oh-so-long ago back in the old lab after he had been dug out of the volcano. He had liked those movies, even though some of them had given him sleeping-troubles at night. Still, this time it seemed that he was the "who" in "who's there" and the other one would be the unwitting victim who'd get slashed/stabbed/incinerated/chased.

Oh, darn those horror movies! Gwharr whimpered softly. He simply did not have the heart to be the monster tonight. He sighed heavily, and moved around a corner seeing the pale, almost albino-like woman that had called out earlier. Even though he had no intention of harming her, he could not afford to appear soft on her. If he did that, she might bring her friends and try to take over the glorious kingdom he had built for himself.

The half-a-ton heavy caveman bared his pearly white fangs, and let out a low growl before rising up onto his hind legs, his melon-sized fist clenched and ready to pummel at any sign of agression. "To wonder why corpse-lady here! To be kingdom of Captain Caveman! To say why you'se here! To Tell Captain Caveman!" Gwharr said, his inhumanly deep voice bearing more than a slight hint of agression in it.