Halesey compliments the pigeons and, upon finding that they are unfortunately all too real, presses on forward with
Elizabeth and
Larry.
"So, why the hell are there so many mop golems around here? It almost seems like there's actually already wizards sitting on this leyline! Man, I don't look forward to that.""We can always just chuck them in that horrible potato hell. But please make sure I'm in the next county or something before you cast it, okay?"Thus they banter as they make their way through the sea of mop golems, at last coming to a place that seems like their point of origin, considering how it has no wall right now. It's difficult to see in there, really. There's just too many mop golems! It is, however, evident that the leyline is very near, and there is the tiniest hint of a small clearing that all three of the wizards can currently see within the crowd of mops.
* * * * *
Kat heeds Perfidy's warning, taking quite a sizable step back. Perfidy nods, walking up to the five guys, then waving to them. They look up from their conversation for a moment, somewhat puzzled by the girl in front of them. Perfidy laughs softly, then outstretches her arms, straightening out in a manner similar to a yawn.
Immediately,
something begins to flow out from her, a black, twisting fog that streams out in several directions, seemingly sentient in the way it seems to grab at the men.
[Bus Stop Dudes' finesse rolls: 3, 1-->1, 5, 5, 4]
[Bus Stop Dude 1's body roll: 1-->1]
Though the billowing, foggy blackness advances quickly, Kat can see that three of the guys, showing very good judgment, immediately run away from the fog upon seeing one of their friends completely engulfed in the stuff and another getting partially caught in it, then violently
yanked into the darkness. Asking no questions, they back away to what seems like a safe distance. Moments later, the fog subsides, revealing a completely unharmed Perfidy standing next to the two unfortunates caught in the fog.
Said two unfortunates are completely covered in hair from head to toe, and this certainly isn't your average body hair. It is jet black with a mildly purple sheen, roughly the thickness of electrical cables, not to mention that each hair is the length of an arm, it seems. And
alive and screaming at that. A veritable choir is formed from the joined yelps and shrieks of both the afflicted and the hairs as the former roll around in confusion and possibly great discomfort. The other guys look at the people on the ground, then at Perfidy, quite distraught at what is happening, clearly. Perfidy, meanwhile, is quite amused.