THE DUNKER, after obtaining his brand new spells, waits like a lethal weapon hidden in someone's back pocket. Time passes. He waits. He puts his finger in his nose and picks for a moment, inspecting his latest find, then flicks it away. He looks at the bartender, than at the rest of the patrons. Hungry Pete waves at him. Joanie is blathering something to Shauna and Raven that they seem to have trouble understanding. Nigel is drinking perilously slowly. People are having fun, some are dancing. The lights are pretty bright in here. Maybe he should ask someone to dim them.
A minute has passed as of the beginning of his waiting period. Time has slowed to a crawl. He may be here for subjective years if this keeps up. Maybe they can just go ahead anyway. The music in here kind of sucks, he notices. Probably the fault of all these teenagers around, and the generally apathetic businessmen.
Two minutes. Maybe he should have another donut. He kind of wants another donut. He always wants another donut, though, so that's not exactly unusual. It's not as bad as it was in jail sometimes, where he'd wake up with shaking hands, a dry mouth and a residual taste of strawberry jelly in his mouth from his dreams that drove him wild. The music still sucks.
Three minutes. The lights really are kind of annoying here. THE DUNKER currently has nothing to say. The decor could use a lot of work. This is basically just a house that somebody stopped renovating and then furnished with refuse. It smells like dust in here. It's probably from the shitty drywall that's been put up and not painted over. He wonders how much cancer the bartender will have in his future if he doesn't stop breathing this crap.
Four minutes. What would a house of self-replicating dentures look like, anyhow? How do dentures self-replicate? And would anybody ever care to live in such a house? Dentures are, after all, something nobody except their owner would ever want to touch. Would be effective against burglars, though only if the dentures were slimy-looking and felt like they have been in somebody's mouth, though there'd be a disturbing factor involved even if they weren't.
Five minutes. THE DUNKER can take no more.
"I don't think anybody's coming. Maybe they got into a car crash and died. Or fell into a black hole on the way. Can we go without them?""Patience, fatty! They'll be here. The lady seemed like a punctual sort of old gal, methinks. Maybe you can go out for a walk with Pete if all yer gonna do is sit around and whine from here on in. You've got your box of donuts, too. Have some! Enjoy yourself! Live a little!""Better not. Look at Joanie, she's already a tragedy in the making, and it's not even past five yet.""Shut the fuck up, Nigel! Bartender, need a Dropped Croissant over here! Last one, I believe!""Rightly so, miss. I'll call Malloy in a moment," the bartender says, fixing up the last Dropped Croissant in the house.
* * * * *
A few of the
Larries have a beautiful idea they wish to try, and that is to bless the Oldthinker.
"Okay, I'll ask him. But it gave me a cool new spell I want to try first. Catch this!" they says, but the spell they're thinking of fails to work, it seems.
"Thath not gonna work. I'm not actually an angel, thee. Jutht an old thoul," the many voices of the Oldthinker suffusing the air inform the many wizards. Oh well. The Larries have tried. They press their faces into their binders and pose a question of the entity accessible through it, wondering of where to find more of its kind, except ambulatory and stuff.
~TRY THE WATERMELON MAN YOU SAW BEFORE IN THE COMPANY OF THE LOOSE WOMAN AT THE BAR! HAHAHAH!~ one variation says.
~LOOK AROUND IN THE HEAVENS FOR THAT LADY YOU SENT HERE BACK AT THE CHURCH! SURELY SHE WILL JUST LOVE TO HELP YOU!~ another shouts.
~JUST TAKE A STROLL AROUND THE STREETS AT THE BOUNDARY TIMES, MORTAL, IF YOU DARE! THE PRIME HOURS!~ is the gist of the rest of the answers.
* * * * *
After coming to an arrangement with the Undulating Porcelain Gremlin Kings,
Dave moves on through the hogweed, booze and fungus-based wilderness of his world, it seems - the peeps that are not hostile, they are woefully rare on a planet such as this, where the land itself is made of consuming fungal shadow that devours the unwary and presses them into subversive service under threat of death.
Speaking of, he feels the land begin to nip at his heels once more, and his bare feet begin to sink into the soft ground once more.
[Fungal Mass vs. Dave: 2 vs. 1-1]
He sinks into the ground to his knees, wondering silently if the shadows beneath will be displeased at his work so far. Probably not - he did do the mold-mounts a solid favor when he thylacine-rivered the underwear legions.
* * * * *
Halesey, now that the filthy heathen has run off, shouts after him derisively, then turns to the depressed gentleman hugging his body.
"God blessed, dickweed! Blessed... Bunghole. Now, you, depressed dude, get the feck off of me or you're joining me in potato heaven, where only outright joy is permitted. Right?""Joy is but a fantasy of the deluded, good sir," the man drones, not really permitting Halesey to get up from his position. Very well. He had this coming.
[Halesey vs. Depressed Gentleman: 3-
1 vs. 3-
1]
He kneads the gentleman in the crotch lightly, their current position allowing little else, which the gentleman does not seem very happy about.
"I appreciate your effort, sir, but I am afraid my issues are more existential in nature, and to be resolved in a less fleshy manner, if indeed they can be resolved at all, which I have cause to doubt, unfortunately."Ignoring the direction this is going, Halesey decides to cast another vortex at the vortex, so as to obtain a squared vortex!
[Halesey's affinity roll: 1-->6+1]
However, the man's presence prevents him from both rightly concentrating, even with purifying thoughts of dearest Linda buried in a pile of thousand potatoes utilized beforehand, and making the appropriate gestures needed to make the potatoes really flow, you know?
* * * * *
John speaks sternly to Menkau, making it clear that them being friends hinges on certain conditions, similarly to any other friendships.
"Right, yeah. I didn't think we could undo those two, but it can't hurt to ask anyway. But we're not having any of this torturing business anymore, you hear.""How many times do I need to say it, I don't even like doing it! I just like doing clever things! I don't intend to torture anyone unless you, like, tell me to!""Now, before we discuss the leyline, I'd like your thoughts on something. James, please tell mister Menkau here everything you remember about Mary and what happened the last couple of days."James looks doubtfully at Menkau, then begins to speak.
"Well, I think I met Mary at a bar - she was a beautiful woman, more beautiful than any I had ever seen. I was, well, instantly in love. So I went over to her, and she saw me, and she nearly spilled her drink, and we both laughed. She was kind of silly, always falling over herself, getting herself in all kinds of weird predicaments... but I was there, you know, and she seemed to kind of feel better if I was there, and I felt good that I could be there for her when all these things happened. We dated for a month or so, and, uh, well, had some good times, you know. She was weird, but I went for that kind of thing. Things were going fast. She moved in with me. It was kind of strange, since I didn't really see her ever sleep. She was just... up all day and night, as far as I could tell."
"The first month went by, and in that time period the house was robbed twice, set on fire once and regularly skipped by the mailman for some reason. We stopped getting bills. The water would randomly cut out, or the power, or both. Once the TV exploded, and I was weirded out. It seemed like the house was cursed or something, but we went on living. Despite all the weirdness, I loved Mary, and she seemed to love me, too. So I proposed - she was flattered, she said, and I thought it was phrased a little strangely, but she accepted. We got married soon after that, though it wasn't at a church or anything. There was nobody to invite - my immediate family were all dead, and she never even spoke of hers. And then she suggested I move in with her, since my house was in kind of a bad shape at that time. I said yes, and then..."
"... I don't really recall what happened then, it's just a bunch of disconnected events. Places, things, but not people. No people at all. That was the strangest thing. At first Mary was there, but then we got separated, I think. I don't know how long it's been, even. And then John found me, we found Mary and... she left me. Told John to look after me. And that was that, pretty much. But the weirdest thing is, aside from the very end, it doesn't really feel like any of it happened to me. It's like the entirety of my life before John found me is just a story someone told me, and I'm now repeating it to you. I only started to remember parts when John asked me to relay everything I remember. I'm still not sure I had a childhood, or if I ever went to school, or anything else."Menkau laughs at the end.
"Oh, that right there's a common problem. I wondered what it was about your shadow that seemed a little unusual. Mary's an outsider! She pulled you into her world, sounds like. And then your self became a little... diluted. You joined with the greater Mary-self, you see. But that's basically like having a great big nothing stuck into you, since we outsiders tend to be a bit decompressed, so to speak. So your identity is probably your identity. Or maybe an amalgam of several people she's pulled into her world! Or maybe entirely a figment of her imagination, made out of spare flesh she had lying around and filled with roughly fitting memories to try and alleviate her loneliness before she retreated away from you in disgust at her own silly behavior. But none of those last two seem very reassuring, given the face you're making, so let's assume James is a person that has existed and had an independent life before meeting Mary, and lived largely unharmed, and your version of events is the correct one. After all, there's no real way to know one from the other, aside from asking Mary herself, but I don't know her personally, and she'll probably try to lie about it to make you feel better, which puts a damper on that! So... yeah!"James stares blankly at Menkau, while John looks at his mag, seeking magical wisdom to raise his spirits.
[John's mind roll: 2+
1]
He goes into the world of magical revelation, only to catch a single sphere of knowledge before being ejected unceremoniously, a single spell richer, yet also a single spell poorer.
1. Fuse Clowns
Have you ever considered what a doubleclown looks like? Or a tripleclown? You may have the chance to find out soon if you find two or more clowns! Until then, keep this spell close to heart.
* * * * *
Eta, overjoyed at the way the skeletons seem to have oriented themselves according to Smokey's bidding, climbs up the ladder.
"Wow! Impressive! Thank you! I didn't know that could happen! How did you do that?""It's all in THE VOICE, baby! And these are mere minions, and pretty easy to order around. No offense, but you don't have enough oomph to your magic to conjure very resistant minions. It's an art to do that kind of shit right, and I should know."As soon as Eta climbs up the stairs, she gets a good look at Smokey, though she slightly wishes she had not, since he looks quite disturbing up close. A short figure, significantly shorter than Eta, as a matter of fact, with a pot belly and a very wiry frame, wearing a terribly stained (perhaps with oil, or maybe blood) tracksuit combined with cheap jewelry and running shoes. He appears to be entirely hairless, with leathery tan skin that's wrinkled in places, and two beady eyes that are a milky gray, without any pupils. And on top of that, he appears to be smoking a cigar very intently. He smiles at Eta, revealing a mouth full of brown teeth.
"So, has your handsome prince arrived or HAS HE ARRIVED!" Smokey says, his voice echoing oddly as the tone changes.
"Name's Clive, by the way. Pleased to meet you!" he extends a leathery hand.
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 271143 times)