Eta, as usual, has quite a brilliant idea. Intelligent flies being an obvious infringement on ecologically sound judgement at this point, she tries conventional methods of climbing up this pillar - firstly, to find a plank in the near vicinity, which sadly fails, though she does find some plastic washing line sitting on the lid of a nearby trash can. With that, she moves on to the next step of the plan - a high-angle shot of a volley of golden high heels, aiming to both spray the things across the tallest pillar, hopefully creating handholds of some sort.
[Eta's affinity roll: 5+1]
The spell fires off in a way that Eta can describe in no way short of perfection, an equal spread along the entire side of the pillar, the heels biting into the firm, yet sufficiently pliable surface of the pillar. Glad at things working out how they're supposed to, which is a rare twist, all things considered. With nothing more to it, she begins to climb upwards.
[Eta's body roll: 2-1+
1]
It is about a meter up that she begins to regret never taking up rock climbing in her life - surely the experience would have come in handy here. As it is, it's a little exhausting and also more than a bit slippery, considering she's trying to grab pieces of metal buried in some kind of creamy red stuff.
[Lois' body roll: 2+1]
Lois, also unaccustomed to this, stops about half a meter higher than she, having climbed alongside her for the first bit, now looking back uncertainly at her companion.
"You know, this isn't really as easy as I think it'd be," she says.
* * * * *
Dave, inspired by all the adversity he has encountered, begins to focus very intently on wreaking mass destruction, his mind quickly centering on the use of magic. Proper use, this time, without horrible consequences! Use that he could proudly tell his mother about while she is not busy shrieking about what abomination he has turned into this time!
Anyhow, yes. The time has come. In mere moments he will wreak feces God himself has never seen, and he is confident that this shall be so, with absolutely nothing going wrong whatsoever. Indeed. It shall be so, for he has declared it, and his eyes have begun to dramatically flash, his hair accordingly floating in the wind of this world he has created.
* * * * *
John, suddenly overtaken by feelings of tiredness and overwhelming drunkenness, decides to take a nap.
"I'm just, I'm just going to pass out for a moment, James. I've had an entire bottle of cheap booze and not 24 hours ago I watched two people I regard as friends probably walk to their deaths. And I let them... Just, wake me up in half an hour or so and we'll sort this out. Not like this cube is going anywhere..." he says, eyes closing and body rolling away from the light, face solidly packed into a corner. And thus does sleepytime ensue. It is entirely dreamless, peculiarly enough, and when John awakens, it's obvious some time has passed. For one, he no longer feels quite as trashed - significantly inebriated, yes. But not trashed.
In addition, it's gotten a bit darker. He must have slept for a while. James does not seem to have moved much, and seems to have been napping similarly to his new friend. He's still napping, in fact. John wonders if he should wake the man, with how soundly asleep he looks.
* * * * *
Larry freely agrees to anything that'll get him to new and interesting (in contrast to old and dangerous) places, and the angel's proposal is no different.
"Sure, let's go hang there.""Great, follow me," the angel says, and the two of them once more travel what feels like a distance of thousands of miles in an instant, finding themselves outside a small cottage, floating freely above the vast sea of endless, swirling brown that is the surface of Saturn. Standing on seemingly nothing at all, a fact Larry, being altogether too familiar with what would probably happen if he were to do that, does not question at all, the angel knocks on the door, and it opens, revealing a house that manages to be cozy despite being utterly devoid of any furniture. There's plenty of woven rugs and tapestries and such, but absolutely nothing even remotely like a chair or a fridge.
The largest room is the one they immediately enter, where a large segment of the floor has been broken, a thick rug laid out across the hole in the floor, a sizable draft coming in from bits where it's a tad crumpled - Larry is a tad unnerved to find that there is absolutely nothing underneath it aside from the surface of the gas giant, and that it appears in no way tethered to the floor. Atop the rug, illogically, sits a man, rather young, but certainly not somebody one would like to look at in any way. He's almost unspeakably ugly, in fact. And as soon as Larry and his companion enter, he looks up, a toothless mouth with blackened gums revealing itself as he smiles.
"Ay, whath up?" he asks.
"Lookin' for a little thomethin-thomethin?""Not yet, old man. Anybody else here?""Eh, Phinny. She's over in the kitchen, watching the water," the old man lisps back.
"Beagle came her, but he'th athleep.""Oh, cool. This is Larry," the angel says, introducing her companion.
"Larry, this is the Oldthinker.""But you can call me whatever you like," the man grins at Larry.
"Right, so, I'll go see if Beagle's ready to get back among the living. Larry, make yourself at home," the angel says a tad patronizingly, then steps off into the hallway leading off to what look like bedrooms. The Oldthinker looks at you.
"Tho, can I get you anything?" he asks.
"Water? Thtronger thtuff? Ambrothia?"* * * * *
It takes more than a moment, but
Halesey manages to figure out what seven answers he wishes to obtain.
"O, Sir Potato, this is the most difficult question I have yet been asked in my short life. I will try my best to ask good questions. First: How can I progress along the Path of the Potato? Second: What makes the Path of the Potato the True Path? Third: Is there an end to the Path of the Potato? Fourth: If so, what lies there, at the Path's end, and if not why should a mere mortal travel the Path? Five: What is the secret to mastering the power of the Potato? Six: How can I best serve the Potato? Seven: Is Love compatible with being a Follower of the One True Path of the Potato, and if so, how can I meet that hot chick Lana, the pink girl? I can totally see myself creating a dynasty of potato servants with her, O Lord. Forgive my impertinence, but these are my questions seven."The planet-sized tuber before him hums in consideration before composing an adequate answer.
"One, you can progress through devotion to the potato, and the spreading of the True Way, for it is in teaching that one truly learns."
"Two, the Path of the Potato is the True Path because you have chosen it and committed to it. Your mind is in tune with the ways of your Lord, and all other paths would thus be empty for you, and for many other of the as-of-yet unknowing faithful."
"Three, there is no end, even in death, but there is an apex that you can reach, from which you can never descend."
"Four, the apex of the Path is when you align yourself perfectly to the True Path's state of ideal being - when you are free, and yet an extension of my will, for I will have raised you to the point where I will consider your independent acts as something I would have done in the same position - as I will have defined you up to that point, you will come to define me in turn. And for you there is another important detail, for you are the first and now, the prophet. You will become the conduit of all magic in time if you pursue the Path, and from there you will reach heights you have never even dreamed of."
"Five, internalization of the potato, making it your own tool, and the solution to all of your problems, followed by sufficient mastery that it becomes an exceptional solution at that."
"Six, the best method of service is to accomplish the quests you are provided, and to do so faithfully and to the utter limits of your conscience. The quests are to further your Lord's interests, naturally, but this comes second to their prime purpose - they are tools to further your personal growth."
"Seven, love is not only compatible with the Path, but, I would say, even necessary for its full fruition. As for the meeting, I hear that mobile telecommunication works wonders in this day and age. Call her, and arrange a meeting at the Green Diamond, which is an inexpensive dining establishment of sentimental significance to her, as well as not very far from her home. Do not under any circumstances mention that you know any of this. That is the way to ingratiate yourself - whether it is meant to be is from there on in is up to you, acolyte."The planetary potato pauses a moment.
"And now, your next quest. Seek out disciples three, true to the ways of the potato - you will know them in that they are unlike your friend Larry, who walks a different path of his own, and unknowing of the ways of magic. Present each with one of these," God says, and three tubers of large size appear before Halesey, one filthy and whirling around in place, seeking to push the other tubers away, one partially liquefied in an odd, surreal manner, one twinkling and swirling with all the colors of the rainbow, all of which disappear inside of Halesey's torso in a flash of light, feeling like three new hearts inside the acolyte's body.
"in accordance with what you can determine of their true natures. The tubers will know their own, and bequeath them with my gifts. Find three worthy disciples, give them my boon, and then bring them here, and you will have become a full Priest of the Potato. Have you any questions?"* * * * *
THE DUNKER, groaning with pain, quickly rolls out from the pile of garbage, knowing that the true soreness has only begun.
"I'M ALIVE STILL!" he shouts, but realizes that this seems to have been unnecessary, since his two friends have already come downstairs to check on him.
"Thank god for that," Joanie says with relief.
"Not surprising. You're practically a human trampoline with all that blubber on you," the ginger man says.
"Besides, what kind of pussy dies from a three story fall? Four I could get, and five even more, but three? That's a total wimp death.""I think he would have died if he hadn't had that pile of crap to land on. Besides, he could still totally die. Maybe he has internal bleeding. You think of that?""Eh, looks fine to me.""That's why it's called internal bleeding, dumbass."
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Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 273378 times)