In front of the engineers' gate of the City of the Dead...
Darren looks at the gibbon-thing cautiously, being ready to leave in case of trouble.
"Hello," he says to the creature. The gibbon nods respectably, which is quite unusual, Darren believes, considering that it is indeed a giant gibbon and thus quite rarely associated with something approaching respectability. It doesn't speak, which he supposes amplifies the impression somewhat. Its suspiciously wise, dark eyes pass over his ectoplasmic body.
The gibbon looks pretty harmless, or at least not particularly hostile to Darren for the time being.
At Brenwicke's Books...
Niklas, rather disappointed with the lack of any kitchens, decides to look for chairs instead. Unfortunately, there aren't any of those, either! What a terrifyingly woeful place this must be to conduct business in.
Sigmund, seeing how Niklas isn't looking directly at him anymore, throws the sandwiches into a nearby alley, causing a rather abominable mess that he isn't sure even a whole lot of rainfall might fix. And now his hands are covered in blood. Sweet, delicious blood. Lovely crimson liquid almost fresh from the veins of an unwitting victim of violent assault, truly a pleasure for all the senses.
Sigmund tries for a moment to resist the temptation to lick his fingers clean, but then figures what the hell and goes ahead and tries some of the blood on his fingers. He slurps a great glob of it from his index finger. Damn, that's good. He licks his hand again. Still just as wonderful. Mm... blood.
He tries to break himself from the enjoyment of his hands, but the sweet scent of vitae is too much for him, and he starts frenziedly licking his hands, paying no mind to anything else. Damn, guess he's been going through blood withdrawal something fierce! He can't stop licking his arms, and the world seems to fade away even as the sensation of being well and truly alive floods through every bit of his body.
"Try to not stand in front of the window for a second, Sigmund," comes the voice of Kevin from on high. Sigmund can't really hear it, but Kevin is currently in the middle of finding a particularly scientific-looking chest of books, which is altogether easier to find than the Sea of Death section, and attempts to push them out the window.
[Kevin strength roll: 5]
He lifts the thing confidently, fitting it through the window and dropping it.
[Sigmund positioning roll: 3]
[Sigmund endurance roll: 5]
It proceeds to fall on the rather distracted Sigmund, clipping him across the shoulder. No obvious damage is caused, and the impact does not even shake him out of his state. How interesting. And now there's books all over the ground.
On the deck of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Morton keeps his chin up despite possessing no such thing, and goes on to chat with Art.
"Erm, perhaps in a bit. I seemed to have been a tad too eager to see if I could look upwards, but at least I can, I suppose. Adjusting well to your new form, Mage Art? It is good that you didn't come out as something less humanoid," he says.
"Yeah. Have to say, though, being a crystal warrior princess feels really weird. And I kinda need to put in effort to keep up a voice like this. If I don't, I start sounding like this. It's quite strange, really. Also, I feel... pretty," Art explains, his voice becoming noticeably more womanly midway through before lapsing into his old sound.
In a jail cell in Shriekpot...
Mark, having nothing better to do right now, opts to think of what the others might be doing.
He thinks for a moment, and then realizes that they very well may be all dead by now, as depressing as that may be. Or at least not at all similar to how they may have been previously. That seems to be standard procedure, anyhow.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 561972 times)