The Mist swirled into the room and hid up in the pub rafters, silently resting above the Protagonizers below, a silent wisp with only two blue eyes shining through. As the people below continue their conversation, The Mist watches as the pub changes form all around him, blending into the moods, lusts and desires of the writers, bending to their limitless imagination and will.
Slowly he takes form, two feet on the beam he is floating above, then, his legs appear, torso, arms and finally his face phases in around the eyes that had been floating in his mist form. He watches as Nick fingers his tiny revolver and as Sly turns into a blonde woman and back again, much to Rock Lobsters amusement, River Talker is watching them disapprovingly.
The Mist slowly walked along the beam, unnoticed below, his powers unique but his confidence low, not ready to join them below, happy to wait, silently above, enjoying the show, all apart from the band which could be better. As he walks along the beam, watching the ridiculous Texan stand-off below, the saloon style chandelier begins to shimmer and shake, then instantly turns into a floating ‘Moon’ like orb, with a strange, smoke like thing, glowing brightly within.
The Mist moves back along the beam, and watches the chandelier reappear from the orb, he would have to watch his imagination, if he wished to remain unnoticed, always the observer, never the observed, The Mist remains hidden in the rafters, then, Sly’s gun erupts, a cloud of smoke, then the bang, and The Mist watches as one of the band members turns into a haze of pink Mist,
“OI, THAT’S MY TRICK!”