Dave, believing there to be no reason why he shouldn't trust a hairy ape-like individual glaring at him suspiciously, goes about his business and attempts to go upstairs. The creature doesn't seem to mind, fortunately, and moves ahead without much issue, and ascends a floor. The second floor, very much like the first, seems to have a row of locked classrooms. Nobody seems to be around on this floor, though. Hm. Wonder if the third floor's the same way?
* * * * *
Eta, keeping still and not making a lot of noise so as to not spook the elderly people if they can indeed hear her, continues to listen to the conversation of the group of friends.
"I wonder when this place closes," the thinner woman asks, making an absurd beard-stroking motion as she does so.
"Not sure, myself! Probably not too long from now - it does seem to be pretty late," the fat man says, looking at his wrist, and looking somewhat disappointed when there's no watch on it.
"Seems improbable they'd close on a busy night like this. I mean, there's still people coming in," the paleontologist notes.
"Maybe they'll pull an all-nighter, eh?""Well, Geraldine's not going to have any trouble staying awake, is she? Old bat's practically undead, the way she carries on.""My grandpa was kind of like that until they nabbed him in '49 for stabbing hookers," the James Joyce lookalike says, adjusting his glasses and smiling weakly.
"They nabbed people for that back then?" the paleontologist asks.
"Gramps was a bit of an enthusiast, shall we say.""Now, did he just stab hookers or did he do something else as well?" the portly woman asks, leaning in toward the fellow.
"Oh, he did all sorts of things. Stabbing was foreplay to the man," the man says with delight, licking his lips slightly.
"I pity your grandmother!" the fat man guffaws.
"I do too! She always had to stay up late and help him make all those funny dresses. Hah, grandpa was a man of many talents, but hopeless with a needle," the thin man says, looking into the distance wistfully.
"My grandpa once poked his eye out trying to patch up his Sunday pants. He wouldn't get it looked at for weeks. The smell was terrible after a while. And having to clean it was even worse! We had to get him so drunk to get him to stay still, you don't even know," the mousy lady says, laughing.
"My grandma used to make me clean up the family crypt. She'd even inspect the bones afterward, can you believe that? 'Lookit ol' great-grandpa Eric!' she'd say, and then slap me across the back of the head, 'he's falling apart! Put his jaw back the way it's supposed to be!'. She liked her corpses clean and proper, let me tell you. And she'd always make sure I washed my hands cleaner than clean, or there'd be trouble."Quite the scintillating conversation happening over here, all in all.
"So, what're we doing?" Lois asks Eta, looking slightly bored.
* * * * *
John, reluctantly on board with Trey's "plan", lets the teenaged delinquent lead the way on their path of physical assault. They head down the hallway carefully, but only for a moment, because all of a sudden the watchman, looking a little messed up and limping a tad, comes around the corner and runs towards them, looking back to see if anything seems to be following.
"Uh... let's get 'im?" Trey improvises, and the two fellows run toward the night watchman.
[Trey's finesse roll: 3+2]
[John's finesse roll: 2]
[Night Watchman's finesse roll: 3]
Trey, however, seems to be the only one showing sufficient immediate enthusiasm to capitalize on this opportunity, intercepting the man immediately and only giving him the chance to utter a slight
"Huh?" before attempted assault begins!
[Trey vs. Night Watchman: 4 vs. 1]
The teenager, in a fit of custardly aggression, delivers a powerful spin kick to the guy's side, knocking his kidney around something fierce from the sound of it. The night watchman curls up into a ball, sent off his feet by the kick, and falls into the corner, groaning in pain. He looks to have been quite surprised indeed by the sudden attack.
"Can't say I expected that to work out so well, really," Trey says, looking slightly surprised at the incapacitated watchman.
"Help me search him, man! We gotta hurry!"John, not really having a strong inclination to do anything else, helps out and together they manage to strip the man of all of his valuables: John manages to get straight to the keys as well as a pack of chewing gum, while Trey handily removes the guy's wallet and phone. After looking at each other's loot, they nod in approval.
"Plunder!" Trey yells, then kicks the watchman sharply again before he and John run back to Luz, who seems to be looking their way already.
"Nice work there, babe," she says quietly as Trey helps her to her feet.
"Emulating a custard warrior is the best thing I've done all day, let me tell you," Trey says, then turns to John.
"Get that door open, and make sure to lock it behind us, yeah? Wouldn't want that guy following us."* * * * *
Time seems to slow down as
Myles come to a decision regarding the man. Though doubtlessly strange, he probably has worthwhile information. He seems to know what magic is, anyway. So Myles just stands still and lets the man come closer, only slightly shrinking back when an overpowering stench of vinegar assails his nostrils when he draws close.
"And you actually stopped," the man says, putting his hand on Myles' shoulder. It feels wet, and the guy's touch tingles quite a lot.
"Don't get many people who do that these days. Least of all you wizardly types. Cagey bunch of bastards, all of 'em. 'Cept for you, obviously."He inhales, slightly wheezing as he regards Myles with his watery eyes.
"Wonder what to do with you. Say, you signed up with anyone yet?" he asks, leaning in to an uncomfortable distance.
"Want a drink, maybe?" he offers his bottle.
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 272370 times)