In the halls of the guard HQ of Shriekpot...Sigmund follows Carlson, asking a most pertinent question.
"So, what did Scott say?""Oh, nothing much. Quite a tough nut to crack, rather unexpectedly. That's why I'm going to ask you a few things as well," Carlson replies, leading Sigmund over to a different small room, indicating a small stool for Sigmund to sit down upon.
"So, my first question is, who is the ringleader of your little gang of thieves and killers? Who gives the orders?"In some sort of room...Kevin, though mangled, tries once more to open up the bag.
[Kevin's strength roll: 5-1+
1]
He rips the bag right open, freeing himself quite easily. He notices that he is currently placed upon a table in what seems to be a morgue. He also notices the door opening and a guy coming in, whistling a jaunty tune. He looks Kevin straight in the eyes somewhat peevishly, stopping mid-note.
"Ah, not actually dead, are we?" he asks.
"You really should be more careful trying that sort of thing. Getting buried alive can't have been pleasant, I think."He looks Kevin over, shrugging.
"So, guess we gotta process you properly, then. Unless you particularly mind, that is."At the Personal Loans department of De Jong and Associates...Niklas, as respectful an individual as any, waits in line like a good citizen.
Fortunately, the guy in front of the line was only there to get some minor clarifications on a loan, and moves along in less than five minutes. The lady after him seems to only be here to officially declare her husband dead and to facilitate the passing on of loans and such, which also goes remarkably smoothly. After that is an elderly man, who takes about ten minutes to produce documentation that he is, in fact, alive and not dead at all, contrary to recent reports, explaining to the clerk at length the precise chain of paperwork combined with miscommunication that led to the unfortunate error, and that there is no need to start rapidly collecting debts from his son just yet. After that is a quite portly and hairy individual, clearly determined to get a loan today. He produces various statements and papers proving his income and other things, confusing legalese words streaming forth from his mouth at a rapid pace. The clerk seems to be understanding all this, and it seems that the whole thing, while quite complicated, shouldn't take too long. True enough, fifteen long minutes later the man gets up, shakes hands with the clerk and moves on after splitting his mound of paperwork with the clerk roughly evenly. The clerk motions for Niklas to come forth, and he does so.
"How can I help you today?" the clerk, a middle-aged man whose face is decidedly equine in its proportion, asks.
In a particular square in Shriekpot...Scott walks up to the man he presumes is Holden Greenleaf, Miracle Worker Extraordinaire.
"Excuse me, would you happen to have time to give a man new thumbs?" he asks.
"Certainly!" the surgeon says.
"I just happen to have some prosthetic thumbs I was hoping to try out on some convicts, c'mere!"He pulls Scott over to him, then leans in toward the old woman, placing the needle he is currently operating on her eye with in his teeth, continuing with the operation while rooting in his pockets with his two free hands. Eventually he produces two thumbs, made out of high-quality wood from the looks of it, and starts working on Scott's hands as well.
[Holden Greenleaf medicine roll: 6+1-
1]
He quickly attaches the thumbs to Scott's hands in a very secure fashion even while he carefully removes the lens of old woman's eye, pushing it downwards. Suddenly, the woman mentions that she can see vague shapes, at which point he stops, simultaneously finishing up the affixing of Scott's thumb.
"Congratulations! You are both healed by the skill of Holden Greenleaf, Miracle Worker Extraordinaire! Live long and healthy lives, both of you! Now, who's next?"A man with a rather pronounced limp enthusiastically raises his hand, trying to make his way to the surgeon. At the same time, a rather sickened-looking woman also approaches.
"Enthusiasm! Wonderful!" Mr. Greenleaf exclaims, subtly shooing his two previous patients back into the crowd.
On a telepathic ship...Morton continues his mental dialogue with the amiable ship.
~Indeed? I didn't wish to ask for fear of seeming impolite, but that's quite interesting. I must say though, if you are the ship I believe this would indeed qualify as a face-to-face conversation. At least in my ledgers,~ he comments, though he's not sure how he actually splits off individual comments in his mind.
~I am quite faceless, however. In that respect, I can't relate to another being through body language, expressions or anything of the sort that one hopes to attain from a face-to-face conversation. At least, not without intruding more than most find comfortable.~Morton considers this, then moves on.
~From what I've seen of Art, he's been nothing but pleasant and helpful, so I agree to that assessment.~~He also seems rather educated on the subject of marine travel, interestingly enough.~~You're from Mothdale, I believe you said? I hear the desert there has wonderful sunsets.~~Mothdale doesn't have a desert, I'm afraid. And I wouldn't know about the sunsets, since I only have secondhand information on the subject. My senses are mostly just spatial and intuitive, you see.~At the engineers' gate of the City of the Dead...Darren wonders if this is some kind of test.
"Ah. Is there some sort of... riddle, or something?"The gibbon shrugs in a somewhat indecisive manner, closing its mouth thoughtfully.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 563690 times)