On the shipwreck-rich beach of Mothdale...
Scott would shake his head if the act of doing so wouldn't look completely ridiculous. Sigmund just can't keep himself together, it seems. He sighs in a very recognizable, unique fashion that he has considered declaring illegal to reproduce without his permission at times.
"I warned you, Siggy. The 'good' doctor is obviously blessed by demonic or elder powers, for nothing in heaven would allow him to remain in existence. Now, it's time for you to pay their price... I hope they are gentle."
Sigmund doesn't answer. Scott has to say there are many virtues in Mark's design choices. It's lovely when people don't talk back, honestly. He turns away from Sigmund and moves over closer to one of the nearby shipwrecks, resuming his shipburning quest.
[Scott's firestarting roll: 2]
He can't quite work up the inspiration to set things on fire again, though. Particularly when he notices that Mark appears to be preparing to mutilate Sigmund again, apparently having gotten an idea again.
[Mark's "medicine" roll: 2+1]
He quickly sews four tongues, four wings and four legs on a single patch right above Sigmund's mouth, making a very nice and eye-catching (probably not literally unless he practices a lot) head ornament morbidly reminiscent of a tasteful fruit hat that distracts efficiently from Sigmund's gaping mouth. And judging by the way he seems to be wiggling the entire thing, Sigmund can move it a little bit and seems to like it. Man, is it convenient to rob people of speech and simply project one's own thoughts on them, imagining that's what they really think. Mark should do it more often.
Sigmund, after giving up on communicating with Mark in any reasonable way, tries to get the gub to see reason at least.
~Then, if she is not independent, you could just make her try to fix me, right?~
~later! now, we chant!~ the gub say abruptly, then go silent.
In a room with a very fetching bearrus and nothing fun to do...
Niklas thinks that maybe he wasn't heard the first time, so he shouts for the floating lady again. No reply or indication he was heard. Nothing happens the next few times he tries it, either. How rude of her to leave him here like this. Oh well. He's got an awl - he's well prepared for this sort of thing, he thinks. Time to tunnel on out of here.
Fortunately, Niklas does believe he spies a potentially nasty-looking crack in one of the walls, stretching right up to ceiling. Great place to start, he thinks! Driving the awl into the crack a few times, he feels something odd, a tingle going over his chair form as the awl nears it. Intent on investigating, he loosens a few chunks from the wall and notices that there does appear to be something within - a glowing point of light almost too small to make out, with little threads going out of it in several directions. How very interesting! Niklas' first thought is a very obvious one - plunge the awl into it! And so he does, feeling the tingle intensify until a point where it stops being a tingle and starts to feel like lightning coursing through him in a somewhat dramatic yet mostly painless fashion. It feels very strange, Niklas must say.
On the Second Shank...
Morton finds the gub's level of cooperation reasonably agreeable, and makes his thoughts known accordingly.
~Thank you, good group Gub. If you don't mind, I'd like to attempt the first now. It wouldn't do well to those coming in if they see the new establishment with a damaged owner, I believe, first impressions are always important. I imagine it will take you time to make the water purifier as well, and it's always good to use time efficiently.~
~naturally! we will not have guests for some time, we imagine, so you are free to improve yourself for now! we will chant as well, just like our teacher instructed!~
Having been given the go-ahead as well as briefly thinking of how much trouble his companions could possibly get into while their every thought and movement was being watched and guided by some kind of strange group. He doesn't devote much time to such unproductive thoughts, however, and begins the Listening Chant, soon reaching a state of heightened awareness - such heightened awareness, in fact, that he becomes acutely aware of the presence of the gub's thoughts on the air. He can't quite put his finger on what exactly gub are saying, just that their voice has become an audible, if not intelligible murmur at the end of his first chant. It seems reasonable to guess they are chanting the same thing as he, though.
Above the rooftops of Blynn...
Timothy, experiencing a brief moment of relief before overwhelming concern once again sets in, speedily floats back to the tavern, which now seems to be missing a sizable portion of its roof and side wall - that looks to have been some explosion, Timothy notes. He can see inside the basement from outside, and he isn't even looking very hard - it appears that a part of the tavern that wasn't blown up has collapsed inward into the unstable hole that formed after the blast. Also of note is the immobile, stiff shape of the pink dog, seemingly unharmed, floating around the grounds jerkily, and several pink puddles on the ground with small, pink, organic tower-like structures slowly rising out of them. In addition, Timothy spies that something has been eating from his mostly unharmed pile of food, judging by the small, yet deep depression formed into its surface - he suspects the dog might have done that.
The question is, where might the hungry guy be?
In the streets of the engineers' quarter of the City of the Dead...
Darren isn't sure whether to show the coins to the kids - they were real back when he was alive, but now they seem to be quite ectoplasmic, which may increase their technical fakeness somewhat. So he just moves on to the next trick, another little distraction with handkerchiefs, which the kids quite enjoy from the looks of it.
"I've never seen mages do things like that!"
"'Cause it's not really magic at all?"
"I have heard about parlor tricks, certainly, but these are a bit more advanced. And yes, this fellow is definitely not a mage. Well, aside from the basic ghost abilities, obviously."
"So, what, do we, uh, tip him or whatever?"
"Useless. He is dead."
"And intangible as well. The only way he could carry the tip around would be with telekinesis, which would be quite distracting."
"Wouldn't it be a nice gesture, though? It would be kinda rude for us to just leave without giving him anything."
"Kind words might work, depending on how... far gone he is."
The kids go silent, staring at Darren, apparently trying to gauge his level of undead dementia.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 564965 times)