"Er. Larry, know any other way to get a demon's blething? Shit. Well," Halesey asks as he stands before the gates of heaven.
"I'm not going in ttthere alone. Thhfuck that. I don't think I tthhould go in there at all. You'd have to be cratthy to go in there, so I don't thee anything tthtoping you," Larry replies, not finding it terribly likely that he'd want to go and vandalize a place he was kind of hoping to at least visit in case he ever died.
"Alone?! I'm going in there too dude. And Mithter Reuben here. There. Come on man, it'll be fun! There'll probably be chickth and everything!" Halesey replies optimistically and, at the thought of what those divine honeys must look like, somewhat stirs both Larry's imagination and his ever-restless loins.
"Uh... maybe," Larry says noncommittally at last, and this is exactly enough support for Halesey to not think twice about springing into action, and the potato acolyte leaps headfirst into the gate, disappearing from sight. Larry, a proponent of cautious measures when dealing with the paranormal, wisely opts not to follow this example and carefully steps over to the gate, poking his head in to determine whether the first sphere of Heaven is someplace he'd like to be.
What he sees on the other side is rather interesting, in an unexpected and not actually interesting sort of way. It is rather the lack of all that many interesting things that make Larry feel a tad surprised. For one, the first sphere of Heaven looks a lot like the moon - relatively flat, very gray and completely dusty. Markedly unlike the moon, though, it seems to have a lot of people on it, as well as breathable air and what might be temples off in the distance. Some distance away from the portal, Larry sees Halesey, who seems to have flown much further than he had predicted. And even further off, Reuben the Clown appears to be plowing through the disorganized hordes of the souls of the dead, bits of low-grade virtuous people flying whichever way the clown happens to be erratically sprinting at a given moment.
"I can see how you're deficient in the virtue of fortitude!" Reuben shouts, blood-like liquids flying off him as the unfortunate virtuous explode into vaguely ethereal pieces at the end of his fists, his feet and his massive bulk.
* * * * *
THE DUNKER finds the proposition of killing these two people entirely sound, and aids Joanie in ridding the writhing men of their lives.
"Okay, you take the one in the chair, I'll take Schlomo," she says, and a murder plan is thus put in action.
[Joanie vs. Schlomo: 6+1 vs. 2-
1-
1]
[THE DUNKER vs. Old Guy: 5-1 vs. 1-1-1]
Joanie's strategy appears to be just stomping on Schlomo's throat until his otherworldly screaming becomes otherwordly choking, then stops. THE DUNKER, respecting her strategy, does something similar and disinterestedly steps on the old guy's throat with one foot, then lifts his other one off the ground. The massive weight of the wizard proves enough to collapse something in a permanent, evidently, as the old guy quits screaming and begins choking as well, which takes a little bit longer to properly stop, but happens nevertheless.
"Everything seems to be going smoothly so far," Joanie observes.
"Check the old man's pockets for any money. Don't take any phones or keys, okay?" she then adds while going through Schlomo's pockets.
* * * * *
Dave, having no way to tell which way civilization lies, experimentally heads in a random direction. Fortunately, only thirty minutes later he becomes aware that his choice appears to have been a correct one, for a dark fortress seemingly built around a set of closely associated chimneys seems to lie directly in his path. It even has an alcohol moat, Dave realizes as he draws closer, though the drawbridge leading within appears to have been raised. On the other hand, he can see rather large creatures composed of underwear patrolling the walls - it's probably not too much of a stretch to say that they see him as well, judging from the way they appear to be pointing what look like hogweed spears at him.
* * * * *
John may or may not secretly be glad that Luz has chosen not to volunteer him on a bet, because having approximately 1/3 of a chance at survival would be an uncomfortable idea to come to terms with, in all honesty.
"All right then. Just, stay calm, don't overdo it yet. You died only a few moments ago," he says, then faces the cow.
"We'll take Trey 11, then.""Good choice! He may be a tad traumatized from killing himself with a spatula, but a good choice nevertheless!" the cow says, and a Trey appears next to it, a deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes and a black number eleven emblazoned on his forehead.
"Congratulations, Trey 11! You are now the real Trey!" the cow says, and the number on Trey 11's forehead poofs out of existence.
"Have you a victory speech prepared?"Trey looks at Luz, his mouth open, then at John.
"I... is-is it over?""It's over, Trey! It's over! You won! Or, rather, were picked out from among the other remaining Treys, who will now have to be disposed of. Have fun being the genuine Trey, though! Speaking of, time to return. Let's bounce on out of here!"Having said that, the cow moos a moo to chill the very souls of the mortals present, and the surrounding darkness immediately recedes, the room, the chairs and the cube all melting away, leaving nothing, just the pure void and the three hapless mortals. Then the void somehow melts away - the ones who see it don't really know how, but they do feel the sudden need to close their eyes as it happens, and when their eyes open once more, they are back in Greenblatt Park, which looks surprisingly normal, all things considered, aside from the cowman, currently in the shape John originally met him in, sitting next to them and gently playing its instrument. As the three get their bearings, the cowman gets up and bows.
"We are back in the world of the living and well," it says.
"Smell that air. Can you sense your freedom?""Yeah, right, freedom," Luz says dismissively, but the cowman continues as if it hadn't heard anything.
"Well, you can't. There's two reasons for this. Firstly, freedom doesn't actually smell like anything. That's just your brain playing tricks on you. And secondly, you're not actually free. I'm sure you want to ask me how, yes?"A moment passes where nobody answers, and the cowman grins.
"I'm glad you're wondering! You see, the fact is, where you were just now, that was me. An expanded self-space. A dimension of me. A realm of I. My mind, and also my body. And when you left, a part of me left with you. It now lives in your bodies, and will for the rest of your natural lives, and long after that as well! Think like a leyline, except instead of magic it's me. It's harmless, mostly, but it has a certain quirk that you may find to be of interest, that quirk being that I know exactly where any part of me happens to be. I'm sure you know what that means, of course."Another moment of silence.
"I'm sure you can figure it out, at any rate. So, my good friend John did vocalize the question that all of you no doubt had - why did I do all this? Why did I subject you to certain... things that will presumably scar you for some time. You particularly, Trey."Trey doesn't look directly at the cowman, but John does see his face twist a little bit.
"The answer is simple, my dears! I did it all to show exactly what I am capable of - a sort of test, if you will. I may have gone a bit too far, admittedly, but that's a personal little quirk of mine. I tend to overdo many things, you see! But the point stands - what I did to you two kids, I can do again, I can do more and I can do far, far differently to the point where the pain you feel and the emotions you experience will be of the sort that you'll need to develop a new kind of brain chemistry to deal with them. John I largely spared, because he wasn't exactly the main objective here, though I did make sure he wouldn't get too bored in the process, wouldn't you say so, John? But I digress! The point is, I can find you pretty dang easily now, if I need to. And if you two kids listen to Mrs. Lee and her hubby, and don't start trouble, I probably won't need to. John, I didn't really get much in terms of instructions about you, but your involvement was kind of improvised in the first place. So you're off the hook, mostly! Rejoice! Though I suspect that if you were to interfere with the two kids deal, there'd certainly be consequences. So, any questions? I'd have to be vague in answers to keep you guessing, of course, so unless there's a really important clarification you need, I think we're done here, no?" the cowman says, bending down and strumming his koto every few moments or so.
* * * * *
Eta, after waiting for Lois to get her shoes, enthusiastically leads her friend out of the hotel room and locks the door before heading out to her apartment... that is, before she feels compelled to stop in the lobby, slightly alarmed by the... noises coming from the closed door to the backroom. It sounds like some kind of wild animal, like what you'd imagine a deep sea fish would sound like if it could speak, but with a distinctly unhealthy tone to it as well. And then, just as soon as she begins to really wonder what these sounds could mean, they abruptly quiet down, then stop entirely.
Bart doesn't seem to have seen fit to investigate, which does raise the question about whether Eta really feels like asking about what's happening over there?
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Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 271382 times)