Dave continues his contemplation of all things related to underwear weather, and thinks that there's definitely a thing he could do that'd be pretty nifty. Awesome magic, as previously specified, will definitely be required. As will loosening up a bit and being ready for all kinds of things to go wrong.
Really, there's not much thought to be put in this. It's more a matter of chance - whether magic will feel like coming out in massive multitudes or not. It's probably impossible to create proper underwear weather with the storm spell, though perhaps if he were able to make it rain, similarly to the whole dinosaur thing a while back, why, then he might be in business. Although he has to wonder if the Denture God isn't able to help, maybe supply some power, gumption, pizzazz and all the other things one needs to make magic come out in great miraculous gouts and spurts. With the moon thing he guesses much of the volatile power came from the way he was combining shit left and right, which suspicion backed by unvoiced agreement from within his head tells him he's not really supposed to be doing. Maybe having a god on his side would be helpful in this case as well?
* * * * *
"Wicked. Maybe that's why I can't find Cal. Anyway, sure, let's go," Larry says, following the tentacles of his host and the light of the captured angel over to what he assumes to be the Wondrous Manse - perhaps the name's a tad dramatic, since it's basically a block of lined, engraved stone with a passageway leading into it.
Inside's not much more interesting - a little empty, with a lot of adorned stone furniture, but nothing else - the stonework is downright exceptional, but it all feels very drab without some contrast.
"Not very wondrous, right? Well, this has been a big problem so far. There's no stuff to work with here on Mercury. Stone, pretty much, since we can't get any damn metal out of the stone because, of course, there's no fuel, no fire and nothing else to tool around with, and the friends of mine who've tried messing with the core and getting heat from that have been kinda shit out of luck thus far. Without fire, there's no glass, no warmth, no illumination, pretty much nothing at all to work with. It sucks the big one. I keep trying to convince one of our angel guys to go to the Kingdom of the Deep and maybe work out a trade or something, but I think they've been misunderstanding what I was saying," his host narrates with an air of immense frustration.
* * * * *
"I'll have to let you take the lead here, I'm afraid. Mister Lee just sort of pushed these weird magazines in our hands and called it a day. My mind went blank and I kind of lost some memories when I read it, but I'm pretty sure he never actually told us how to give magic to others. So, if you'd be so kind?" says
John, looking at Mr. Pilton curiously to see what he's about to do.
"Oh well. Guess I do have more practice in this thing. And a very handy tool, no less!" Mr. Pilton says, then pulls out a matchbox from his pocket, turning to the waitress.
"Look alive!""Wait! Don't I get a say-" the waitress says, but is cut off as the match is struck, a regular-looking flame dancing at the tip of it. The waitress stares at it intently, her eyes glazing over as she instinctively leans toward the flame. This continues for a bit, Mr. Pilton smiling as he holds the match, winking at John.
"It's working!" he whispers amusedly. He moves his hand to the side a little, and the woman's eyes follow the flame, and her head ponderously does the same in a few seconds. After a short while, the woman snaps out of it, prompting an excited giggle from the fellow. She stumbles back a tad, adjusting her glasses, then looks upon Mr. Pilton silently. She slowly mouths a 'what the fuh?'
"I don't really what you saw, dear, but rest assured that it's completely normal and we don't think less of you for it. Now, here's your matchbox," he says, offering her the one he struck a match from, then taking her hand and pushing it into her grasp when she doesn't immediately take it.
"Any time you have a question, any kind of question, strike one of those matches."The woman strikes a match, staring at the flame vacantly as it burns through the match, falling out of her hands as it starts burning her fingers.
"I think she's a natural, personally," says Mr. Pilton to John as the woman gets out of her trance.
"That's really weird," she states.
"You thought it would be otherwise?""... point taken, I guess?""Oh, and you're going to want to look for leylines if you feel like getting more magic in you, by the by. Give me a call if you need to be pointed in the right direction sometime later," he says, handing a napkin with his number scribbled on it to the waitress.
"Uh, okay. Are there a lot of, uh, wizards around here?""Loads and loads. I know more wizards presently than normal people. Well, I think. Depends on what you count as knowing a person. I don't count, for instance, Lauren from Human Resources since I don't know her last name and we've never spoken more than two words to each other.""Erm. Uh. Well... okay, yeah," she stammers.
"Who are you people, anyway?"* * * * *
THE DUNKER, trying to be the voice of reason since there's probably no way he can be the bad cop to Hungry Pete, addresses the two cornered wizards.
"Now now, I'm not sure what atrocities Pete visited upon you, but we just want access to the leyline."Hungry Pete looks quite frankly insulted by this.
"I visited atrocities upon them? They sent me across town to the school, right into the clutches of the demon that ate my most promising friend! And their other cohorts killed my flock! I have done nothing malicious or atrocious to them at all!""Indeed, sir, you are entirely without fault, and it is with this in mind that we officially repent," says the fat guy on the ground, looking very apologetic.
"We have seen the error of our ways, and would very much offer you the leyline-""The finger of God?""Yes, yes, the finger of God for you to use however you please, as long as you allow us to stay here and conduct some research on it. We won't interfere with whatever you or your friend currently seem to want, since hey, no harm, no foul, right? Use the... finger however you need. It's not like hoarding it is doing us or anyone else much good, right?"Hungry Pete seems thoughtful.
"Hm. Your groveling is most enticing, but I am not sure if you should be let off that easily. After all, your minions could have murdered us both had we not murdered them first.""Is the groveling really not enough? C'mon, dude, we did say we're sorry! Right, Jo?" he looks at the woman who's bandaging him.
"Very sorry!" says the woman, wrapping up (so to speak) the bandaging and turning to face the two conquerors and their army.
A muffled apology comes out of the spiky ball of angels as well.
"I say!" Hungry Pete declares.
"That sounds all fine and good. But what say you, fellow pilgrim," he asks of THE DUNKER,
"that we give these people a test so that they can prove their goodwill?"* * * * *
Eta, filled with suspicion that has only increased after discovering that the weird donut guy in the suit is actually a vicious murderer, or at least unfortunately involved in helping the unsurprisingly viciously murderous Joanie, retires to her room and puts a chair in front of the door, balancing a fragile lamp on its edge along with a few metal mugs. Surely this is a foolproof alarm system, she thinks as she secures the windows. All things taken care of, she sets an early alarm, at about 8 AM or so, and it is for only about this long that she can successfully stave off sleep, losing consciousness shortly thereafter.
Most unsurprisingly, since it is about 5 AM when she falls asleep, she is extremely tempted to ignore the alarm, since after last night she feels like complete shit, to put it mildly. No way getting up now is going to result in a good or productive morning, she's fairly sure, and that may very well not be just her rather tired brain talking.
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Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 272520 times)