At the shipwreck-rich beach of Mothdale...
Scott, having witnessed quite the impressive of traumatic event, depending on who you ask, can't help but gush at his newly-transformed friend and the medically unsound surgeon who made the whole thing happen.
"You are the most beautiful and heart softening form I have seen in a long while and if it wasn't for the fact that I am a hideous fire scarred ectoplasmotic head, I swear I would hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears... to say the least," he tells Sigmund, who reacts in no way whatsoever. If that is still Sigmund, of course.
"You, sir... are... are... a true rival to the gods themselves," he then gushes at Mark, who also doesn't react visibly, but certainly wishes he could, turning to the gub for aid.
~Hey Gub can you teach me to talk to others mentally with out you relaying what I say~ the surgeon asks boldly and greenly of the gub while basking in all this credit he's finally getting from his peers. Truly this is a great day to be Mark.
~no, we can't! you may as well ask us to teach you how to think at all! we would tell you to seek the help of evelyn, but she is completely and utterly occupied presently!~
Sigmund, meanwhile, tries to see if he can talk in this form - signs point to yes, as he now seems to have five tongues inside him and at least that many throats. With this in mind, he attempts to frighten the lump of flesh floating in front of him and singing that rather unpleasant surgeon's praises. He expressively and gutturally retches in Scott's direction, hoping that this will serve to distract him from his reverie - Sigmund is quite sad when it does not and the silly bugger continues in his efforts to completely embarrass everyone on this beach and possibly beyond. Oh well. Time to check the next thing on the grand list of things you want to find out when you're a pseudodragon - can he fly?
As he finds out after flapping his wings as hard and fast as possible, no, he really can't. He can somewhat slow his descent, but he definitely can't generate enough lift to fly upward. Probably just as well he can't fly - he would just mess it up and kill himself in all likelihood if he could. And the fact that this train of thought is literally the first thing his mind went with when he realized this is a bit depressing. Before he can consider this further, though, he notices Scott trying something.
[Scott's telekinesis roll: 3]
The sand on the beach is momentarily disturbed, but nothing really comes of it. As Scott's intangible head starts to near his own bulk, Sigmund wonders if he should start running. Can he run, actually? He's not really sure about the logistics of doing so with eleven legs, to be perfectly frank.
Inside a mostly empty room...
Knowing that the sooner he starts mulching this dang tree the sooner he'll be done mulching this dang tree, Niklas starts mulching this dang tree already. As expected, progress is very, very slow. Not as slow as it could be if it was, say, a stone block, but definitely slower than most people could safely deal with and retain their sanity. But Niklas never had much of that anyway, and he's got Torkel and Helsvar and the spruce guy to keep him company along the way, so it's a very merry, if gruelingly monotonous, generally unpleasant and only a few steps from being downright Sisyphean. Along the way, Niklas has little in the way of marking the passage of time - he could have been at this for days, weeks, seconds or years - all he knows is that, after what definitely felt like a long time, he has mulched the tree, foliage and all, in its entirety, creating a most wonderful pile of finely ground organic material.
Now, what did he plan to do with this again? His goal, having been placed in a part of his mind he usually does not access while mulching wood, has become a little hazy over the long decades, Niklas thinks.
Inside a temple of Velusius...
Enraged over a cheeky priest making light of his rather impressive struggle with himself, Kevin jumps to his feet, his adversary having revealed himself inadvertently, and seeks his opponent. By the time he gets a good read on where he might be amidst the echoing chuckling, however, it has stopped - nevertheless, Kevin sees the fellow anyway, and rushes him.
[Kevin vs. High Priest: 3-2 vs. 4+2]
As he goes right for the nose on the guy, the priest ducks and grabs Kevin, enclosing his midsection in a vice-like grip one really wouldn't expect from a guy that small.
[High Priest's throw roll: 2+1]
He lifts Kevin up into the air, and is about to hurl him away in what seems like a very unsafe way when he apparently reconsiders, instead throwing Kevin to the ground somewhat uncomfortably. Kevin is about to provide some choice words to the fellow, but before he can manage this, the high priest interrupts him.
"Don't get me wrong, you're a very amusing fellow, but it will take more than that to win me over, I'm afraid," he quickly says, then skitters up the vertical wall behind him in a decidedly unnatural-looking way, disappearing behind an elaborate tapestry hanging on the wall when he reaches the top.
Inside what looks like a fairly ordinary abandoned house...
Timothy firmly decides that he is not the sucker this setup is looking for.
"Nope. I's not falls for dat," he says and steadfastly refuses to look behind him, instead keeping on floating upwards. He passes through the ceiling, finding himself on a second floor just as abandoned as the first, then through a small and dusty attic, then through what must be a roof, at which point he beholds the blue sky right above him with quite a bit of relief. Looking around, he concludes that he still appears to be in Blynn, despite whatever strange and frightening detours he may have taken on the way back up. Quite fortunate, all in all.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 565002 times)