Halesey acts in accordance with God's decree, bidding the vortex to close and invite mortals inside God's realm no more - the quota has been filled, and God is clearly satisfied.
"O Derek, you shall take unto your heart this Most Sacred Potato, and become an Initiate of Ultimate Potato Power," he begins solemnly, colorful potato swimming out of his torso and into his hand at his bidding,
"and you shall be healed. Amen."He raises the potato upward (in relation to himself - both he and Derek the Doubter seem to be a tad lopsided in relation to God, on account of them slowly rotating in the irregular stream of potatoes, and then brings it down into his chest like a priest secretly imagines God's great hammer would fall on whatever annoys them that day. The potato meets some resistance at Derek's flesh, but it is ultimately of little consequence in relation to the force put in - the potato sinks in, and for a moment, Derek's eyes open. He inhales sharply. He is about to scream again.
He doesn't, however, get the opportunity, for he is immediately bathed in the holy brownish-yellow light of God, the light of inner growth and secret reserves, burrowing into the flesh of the Doubter and the Prophet alike, both exalted in God's presence simultaneously at this very moment. It is an overwhelming sensation of glorious power. A part of Halesey, an emptiness he started to know only when the last potato left his inner reaches, is now filled, running little roots through his being, filling out his understanding of all that is, was and will be.
Halesey's got a new stat point to spend! Brilliant! He can now doublecast any one Potato spell or cast any two Potato spells per turn!And then, things go quiet. God floats there, looking resplendent as usual. Derek the Doubter looks perfectly fine, awake, and also in shock, his mouth hanging open, a passing tuber barely missing it.
"God," Derek simply states. There's a tinge of uncertainty in his voice.
"Indeed, Derek. I am the Potato God. Are you prepared to serve, or would you prefer to rest for now?""My name is not Derek," says not-Derek.
"Peter is my name. Hungry Pete is my moniker."The potatoes swarm and swirl around Hungry Pete oddly.
"You are not God, are you?" he says, with much more surety in his voice than before.
"Truthfully, I am a god," God replies.
"One of many. But more popular than most.""I see," he says, regarding God with a great deal of intensity in his eyes.
* * * * *
THE DUNKER, after hinting at his sinister plans for a moment, waddles down to the first floor, past his vampire friend, and into the lot outside, casting a critical eye about for suspicious activity.
First of all, there's a bunch of forlorn-looking, scantily-clad undead shambling about. They seem about as non-threatening as the undead possibly can be - the sort of complete lack of credible threat a single traditional Romero zombie poses in an open field, but applied to a group. They're a sorry lot, they are, broken and miserable all over. Some can't even walk.
There's a conspicuous lack of potato vortexes about, in other news.
And finally, no other people about, either. No credible witnesses. THE DUNKER could get away with murder here, it's not unreasonable to say. And he would know, having gotten away with murder once already.
* * * * *
John attempts to entice the little off-brand creature out of hiding, hoping sausage and kind words work as well with it as they do with humans.
"Come out, little buddy. I've got more sausage. Don't be afraid, you can show yourself to me," he says, holding out his sausage to show he's not kidding one bit. The sincerity in his voice and the method of offering, it seems, strike a chord of some kind in the off-brand creature's mind, for it does indeed show itself.
It starts with John blinking, as mystical events occasionally do. Before, the space before him is empty. After, there is something there. It's small, about a quarter of his height, if that. It's definitely got a rodent-like look, but more robust than he'd expect from a squirrel, and the tail it has is clearly a dead giveaway - it's some form of beaver. It bares its orange front teeth at him, its mouth, encircled by a suspiciously human-befitting white beard, opening up slightly. Its small eyes light up, and it tips its tiny pointy hat at the man with the sausage. It's some sort of beavergnome, his senses tell him, and just as strongly as they inform John of this, the look of its eyes informs him that it's probably not exactly friendly.
"Your food isn't poisoned, I checked," it says.
"You may be trustworthy. But first, a background check," it tells John genially, but then, just as suddenly as it appeared just now, a burst of alarm appears in its voice.
"Who sent you?" he (the beard makes you think it's a he, anyway) asks in a manner both rapid and accusatory.
* * * * *
Larry grabs a sweet-looking starry wizard hat (okay, a birthday hat, but it's a pretty swanky one nonetheless, made of fabric, even, and really close enough when one thinks about it for a moment) and prepares to take a walk.
"Let's roll!" says he. Tracey looks at the wick guy, he looks back. Both of them shrug, and the walk is commenced! The door to the outside does not open, it dissolves as the guy looks at it.
"Well, uh, follow me, then," he says and steps out into the... void? No, wait - it's the darkness. The void it is decidedly not - as the guy walks out into darkness, a blazing path of light is left behind him, smoke rising from beneath it. Larry, like a proper gentleman, allows Tracey to go first - she takes a tentative step, and finds the path of light solid. The guy is gaining on them, so the two hurry after him as he walks around and around in a spiraling pattern, occasionally looking about. Tiny lights occasionally manifest, then start to glow brightly off to the side. In the far distance, there is something not unlike the sun, but also not unlike a star in the night sky, somewhere in the middle between the distance of those two, more luminous than a planet for sure.
"So, uh," says the guy from a walkway atop the one Tracey and Larry are currently traversing, with Tracey considerably ahead of Larry presently. He seems to have stopped, some thought briefly overtaking him. "This really isn't all that engaging, is it? Distance are too, erm, big, you know?"
"Are we going to be there any time soon?" Tracey asks cautiously as she starts to jog up the spiral leading up to the guy. Larry is left in the dust beneath.
"Er, no. That's the problem."
"Oh.""But it's, uh, kind of easy to fix," the guy says, giving the distant luminous object a good look. Almost as if beckoned, the object starts to loom larger and larger, drawing closer, heating the surroundings and throwing off little waves of luminous particles that Larry gets the distinct impression he's not supposed to be seeing. It seethes and menaces all three with its terrible power, but Larry especially, it seems. Why, though, he cannot say.
"Say hello, guys, it's... uh, what did I call it again? It's not God, right? It's... uh..."
The guy doesn't seem to have a good word for it presently, but its presence is unquestionable. Larry gazes upon it, and finds it distinctly familiar.
"Hey! It's that thing!" Tracey points at it.
"Yeah, it's that thing. What was its name, though?" the guy continues to think aloud. "The Wellspring? The, uh, Sunwell? Eternal Springs? I dunno."
* * * * *
Eta, after making sure that she cannot, in fact, localize the exact origin of a sound to her right (which, she supposes, excludes the hatch right opposite hers at least), tries to listen for something else instead, such as what's happening in the hallway. She listens for a moment, and becomes fairly certain that there is probably a shade out in the hallway, probably not doing much of anything aside from humming very lightly.
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Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 272035 times)