THE DUNKER knows that this particular leyline is clearly a bust of some kind - however, the night is far too young to be allowed to end on a sad note like this! The adventure must continue! To the abandoned parts of factory land he must go!
"Sounds like a jolly haunting destination, let's go there!" he says, chipper to a degree that even flusters Hungry Pete. He looks back, disquieted for a moment.
Then he breaks into a grin.
"Yes! Into the darkness we must forge, to bring the grace of God unto ourselves!" he says, taking off immediately. THE DUNKER, satisfied, tries to match Hungry Pete's brisk jog with an enterprising waddle of his own.
Meanwhile,
Eta, similarly befuddled and threatened by mysterious explosions and unknown threats, chooses to go with Ivette's proposed course of action and runs off with her friend, not saying anything more until they're well clear of the street. The police don't seem very committed to keeping the area secure anymore, probably on account of investigating the castle and all, as it is incredibly easy for all four escapees to get the hell out of dodge, whereupon the two duos part ways - THE DUNKER and Pete running off to seek a heroic destiny, while Ivette leads Eta off to presumable safety.
"Where are we running towards? The hospital?" it occurs to Eta to ask along the way.
"Safety," Ivette replies cryptically, and they indeed stop on a streetcorner in a decidedly friendlier area of the Lower Esplanade, right on the edge between it and the post-industrial district.
"Okay," she says at last, out of breath,
"now I think we should split up. If something's still after us, at least one of us ought to escape this way. I'll call you in the morning - if I don't, I'm either dead or sleeping in really badly. Keep that in mind, and make sure to pick up."She takes a deep breath, then nods.
"Right, then. Goodbye," she says and runs off, not awaiting approval of any sort, leaving Eta alone and slightly singed on a streetcorner at night.
Meanwhile, THE DUNKER and Pete test their endurance to their very limit as they endeavor to reach Import Avenue - Pete is kind enough to wait for his buddy a few times along the way, and at around midnight they have arrived, beholding the factory - five stories high, gray and utterly boring to look at, there is nonetheless a mesmerizing quality to the large building as one beholds it slowly, rhythmically rise and fall in the night. The people gathered in the parking lot seem similarly odd, walking about awkwardly in very revealing clothing, hugging each other on occasion.
* * * * *
Larry, not that bad of a guy when one thinks about it, offers constructive criticism.
"I guess it's nice, though I can't see any of it. Maybe you need a big window.""Now there's an idea! Good thinking, dude! And mighty kind of you to say so, too," the guy says, and follows up with a powerful grunt. Sounds of something rather massive being moved ensue.
"Come on, you bastard! Move already!"However, a few moments later the guy has to concede, and a rumble issues as something falls back into place.
"Okay, that didn't work at all. Any other ideas?"* * * * *
Halesey, adept at the ambushing of drunkards, particularly blasphemous ones such as this guy, roars toward the approaching guy so that he may be reminded of his folly.
"You sir! You are quite, quite drunk. Do you realize where the bloody hell you are?" he asks with the authoritative voice of a master of the ways of potatoes and vortexes and everything in between. The man turns his head to look at the suddenly mobile fixture of the environment.
"You are one ugly sumbitch," he says.
"You've got, like, a hole for your... your everything, looks like."He looks over at God, not particularly impressed, or so it may seem.
"You look like a local, if I'm not missing my mark," he slurs at Halesey once more.
"There anyplace to crash on Planet Potato over there? I could do the vortex again, but who knows where the fuck I'll end up then."He thinks a moment.
"Or I could just nap right here, I guess. Eh, fuck it."He starts to close his eyes, clearly bloody stinking drunk indeed. And yet Halesey feels a faint stirring of a potato in him at the sight of this fella.