by Hydrargentium

“Name?”

A rumbling sound filled the gymnasium.

The clerk looked up to see a huge stone figure, craggy and grey, hunched over slightly and arms hanging loose at the sides. Somewhere near the top was what she presumed was the head, so she looked where she thought she might find some eyes. She was rewarded a moment later when the figure blinked, verifying that the darker spots were, indeed, stoney eyeballs. After that, it was easy to make out the rest of the features: wide mouth, blunt nose, slabs of ears on each side. She could even sort of make out a suggestion of neck to either side of the promontory of chin.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Her tone stayed flat. She couldn’t yet find it within herself to try to smile.

A rumbling crunch echoed off the far walls, which somehow managed to sound like someone clearing their throat, if their throat was a stone pipe full of gravel.

“Gibraltar.” The voice was male, and decidedly clear. “My name’s Gibraltar.”

She wrote that down in the entry ledger, and waited. He seemed to have more to say.

“I was, uh, at a concert last night. Wrecked my voice yelling.”

That almost made her smile, imagining this big chunk of rock at a rock concert, yelling and hooting among the other concert-goers. He seemed to notice her reaction.

“Uh, not like this. In my normal form.”

She shook her head.

“None of my business.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

Advertisements