In a monolithic chamber of teleportation...An idea for door-opening coming to him in the middle of all this consideration,
Sigmund bites down on the headless man's neck and starts dragging.
[Strength roll: 2+1]
The corpse, however, is pretty large in comparison to Sigmund, and progress is considerably slower than he would like. Eventually, however, he does make it to the door! However, it fails to open. Damn it all. On the other hand, this does seem like a generally sensible course of action despite this, given that Sigmund does notice a bit of a change in the door-opening mechanism - it hasn't really activated, but it does seem... excited? Not in the emotional sense, but in the energetic sense, of course.
In a roadside ditch...Now more confident in his ability to will things to be,
Kevin tries to capture godhood in a bottle once more and will himself some food, blissfully unaware of probability itself not being on his side for this task.
[Will roll: 1-2]
Concentrating hard, he imagines a delicious cabbage (which does hint at increasing desperation on his part) in his hands, many-leafed and filled with wondrous nutrients that are all a living fellow such as himself would need, and closes his eyes, this time trying to keep his teeth to himself. He runs through several rounds of concentrated wishing, going over all of the relevant attributes of a cabbage that he can recall at the moment, and feels his hands grow heavy with something promisingly spherical and with a leafy texture. Once it reaches a properly cabbage-like feel, he stops, and waits a few seconds. The cabbage remains. Feeling it from all sides, Kevin becomes convinced of its reality, and then opens his eyes. There it is! A cabbage! A delicious pink cabbage in his hands, right there for the eating!
Atop the ruined Black Tower of Eckledun...Scott, not unmoved by Francine's plea for help, mindfully descends through the tower's top and through roughly two floors, each of which he crosses at what looks like a hallway.
"So, are you a construct or an undead?" he asks on the way of Francine.
~Undead, sort of. Not that I was really raised from the dead, but instead that my soul was bound a bit more tightly to my body and then my body was "killed", so to speak, and then carefully preserved. Makes things much more efficient. I was wondering if it wouldn't be good to transition to ghosthood, as you may recall, but I'm not sure if that would work too well in my case,~ Francine relates to him as he crosses down into the floor she's on, and notices that this one does appear to have only one large room in the center of it, surrounded by an outer hallway winding all the way around it.
Immediately as he gets down there he suspects what the problem is - it probably has something to do with the outer hallway being filled up to about the halfway point with that pink stuff, similarly to the pool he encountered earlier, except this one seems to not have a level rather than a slope - a gentle downward slope running from inside to outside, in fact, as if it were some kind of static tide being pulled toward the center.
In an eel-machine cruising through the void...Mark at once figures out the problem and the solution, remembering his reconstituted hobo axe with uncanny precision as he performs a fluid strike at the seated fellow.
[Mark vs. Shadow Fellow: 2-
2 vs. 1-
1]
Unfortunately, the fellow ducks down a bit, seemingly indignant at this blatant murder attempt.
"Ay now!" he says, sliding out of the seat and standing a little bit away from Mark.
"This is a terribly sensitive area. You wanna fight, let's do it in the hallway, all right?"He quickly maneuvers his hand to flick a small, unsigned switch and starts to push Mark out of the far chamber back into the hallway.
In the captivity of some kind of void beast...Morton, intrigued by the room he's in, examines the glass orb, noting it to be black (or perhaps clear, but with something black behind it). Touching it reveals it to be smooth glass, and also leaves a bit of a brownish-black stain on its surface.
Next he turns his attention to the knob on the ceiling - it takes only a little examination to discover that it's probably for some sort of ceiling hatch, given the seams on the ceiling around it. No hinge that Morton can see, however. Hard to tell how to open it without trying the knob.
The door, Morton notes, seems to have slid down from above with the help of some well-oiled mechanism. Strange thing is, though, Morton can't see a locking mechanism at all - it seems to have come to a rest on the floor, but if it's not locked in place and was merely brought down by some form of gravity, it would not be unthinkable to lift it. The gaps, between it an the walls, floor and ceiling, though, are much less hopeful. No way he's sliding through these. At least not without getting rid of his stuff.
Speaking of his stuff, it looks better than one would expect. He's spilled any tea he had, of course, but it seems to have collected on one side and blissfully missed the demonology book entirely. The book is slightly crumpled, but nothing overly tragic. The rest of his stuff, however, seems to exist in a worrying state of flux, all tucked into one dark corner of his drawers. Might not be wise to disturb that much.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 564568 times)