On the deck of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Sigmund makes yet another enlightening comment as he chills on deck with the gang, awaiting the exit of the Artiste and Tailor Craig.
"So, that huge man roaming inside the ship was helping you to get some barrels of the Special? Well, at least it's cheap."
Having received no acknowledgement of his superior information, he asks Erin about her peculiar tendency to turn things to rubber.
"While we wait for our master, would you mind telling me what makes this rubber material so special?"
Erin turns to him, shrugging.
"It's got good elasticity, not too heavy, plus it's fun to make. Reshaping stuff into these really complex bits, then combinin' 'em into long chains - organic materials were always my favorite, ya know. They make way more sense, y'know. Just don't burn it - fumes are a tad toxic. Not immediately, though."
That explains... something, Sigmund guesses. He supposes he'll just let the silence sink in for a moment. Luckily, it doesn't take too long for Kevin to speak up.
"I hope the master doesn't convince the tailor guy to eat his own arm or something like that."
Sigmund is happy about Kevin's rather sizable level of ignorance, as it allows him to get good exercise for his eyebrows. That's always important.
"Why on Earth would he do that? As far as it concerns me, he has been a quite rational master, at least for the time we have been serving him. Believe me, if he hadn't bound our souls in this sort of eternal slavery that is soulbinding, he would be quite a nice master, actually."
Even Morton is moved out of stoic silence by such an implication.
"I wouldn't worry too much, good Jester Kevin, Master Artiste is a reasonable sort, he wouldn't do such. Hm... Good Mage Erin, if you don't mind me asking, why does not being around good Tailor Craig make you feel more secure than usual?"
"Ya can't see the guy's face, his eyes glow and his hand's a blackened claw. Also, something about him seems really strange, and not just the obvious bits. Makes me a tad uncomfortable, ya know?"
However, this discussion doesn't really get anywhere further before Scott, hungry for new prey to abuse at his leisure, ambles up to them.
"Hullo, fine gentlemen, and lady. Partake of a refreshing hit of ☼Fun☼?" he asks, somehow pronouncing starlike, beamish symbols quite similar to implied quotation marks, if more overt.
Now, the undead realize, is the time for silly excuses.
"I'll pass. Vampirism makes you allergic to anything non blood-related, you know. But I have something for whoever dares to try that drink," Sigmund says, producing his ugly mug. The one he stole, not the one he was given.
"I'm afraid I'm rather incapable of doing such anymore, Sir Scott, my apologies. I do thank you for the offer however, much appreciated."
Scott looks over at Erin.
"Um... I'll pass, too. No good to be drinkin' at this time o' day, y'know?"
It's all on Kevin, then. Or maybe persuasion might help?
In a jail cell...
Mark, having nothing better to do, tries to ram a wall. The wall to the next cell, as an aside.
[Strength roll: 4]
After several valiant charges into the wall, Mark dares say he can see a crack appear! A tiny crack, but a crack nonetheless. However, before he can celebrate, the sergeant comes back.
"You do know I can hear you doing that, good sir? I'm going to have to ask you to stop damaging prison property or we will be forced to dismantle you, as per construct regulations."
Well, that sucks.
In the den of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Niklas tries to mentally upend himself and shake the bits of mental sediments right out!
[Meditation roll: 6]
He shakes, shakes, shakes! The thoughts from his mind quickly lose context and meaning, the bits of himself that currently don't matter shake themselves out, landing somewhere in the dense mists of his long-term memory! For the first time in a while, Niklas really isn't thinking of anything. Nothing currently bothers him.
It's a pretty cool feeling, one would say if their minds weren't too busy being empty.
"Finally! Now we can do the actual thing we're supposed to be doing. Focus upon yourself, your chairy form! Channel a desire to be more than you are, to manipulate the very fabric of the universe! Devote yourself to the magnificent process, to change your very body, to make your thoughts a reality!"
My, he seems enthusiastic.
At Karina's home...
Darren has an idea.
"You think it's because we're, y'know, ghosts? Have you ever tried asking another ghost about it?"
"I haven't been out of this house in years - and my next door neighbor, Danielle, I asked her once, but she got all defensive."
How curious indeed.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 563689 times)