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[piecewise]

Go lie in the dirt and sing the scary song. Practice not giving a damn about its effect.

[1]
It's a good thing you're a brain in a glass sphere with no method of easily killing yourself or you'd be doing that right now. Instead you're just gonna be so incredibly depressed that  you don't get back on the war beast as it wanders away.

Okay, let's see, I was a largish cat that can manipulate objects with surprising dexterity, good at fixating sapients on pointless things and at gaining info, and bad at keeping a train of thought and distinguishing reality from fantasy. Thrives on attention. Got it.

Sebastian climbs up Xan's pant leg, and launch onto his shoulder, and yowls at the other newcomers, occasionally interjecting with a "yeah!" and "that's right, the best!" and other such stuff.

Edit: after the angry tirade Sebastion then leaps down to assist with Hyenakles by laying on his head and purring, since cat purrs are known to have a healing effect. He stares into Hyenakles' face and wills him to be better.

You hang around on Xan's shoulder for a while, interjecting at complete random with completely random phrases. Things like "YEAH!" and "THE BEST!" and "I PREFER BROWN EGGS!" and "I'M EXPERIENCING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS!".

That done you go sleep on hyenankle's head.

There's a lot of things I could do here with your fire magic. Flaming boner comes to mind. Waving one of those around is a pretty good show of dominance.

((cue the music))

- Fine, we picked 'em up, moving on.

Now, we were heading towards Cemiac Empire, I believe. We go on.

Alright, on it.

The logic of having sharp blades equating to being a good surgeon is a tenuous one at best. By this logic my blender is a world class internal medicine practitioner.

Well, that's true, isn't it? Put a kidney into blender, and kidney stones will stop being a problem real soon.


"Humans can be pretty evil, right? I think I might try being evil for few days."

Release this hyena guy from his suffering and secure my dinner for next few days.

Don't get eaten?

Know what, time for another portable miracle. We still have corpses/corpse parts, right? Go use them as sacrifice fuel to heal the hyena. Make sure everyone knows what I'm about to do, make a big deal out of it. Fire totally heals stuff after all, because I say so. And as I demonstrated just last turn, I'm the goddamn motherfucking OG of Fire and cosmic powers and shit.

Now we have a conflict. The death claw guy is doing this in full view of others so if anyone wants to, I dunno, interject, now is the time to do so.

And Xan, you have the distinct feeling that healing him isn't something you can manage with the few chunks of former people left laying around. You need something living; something sapient.

"Wizardry! Wizardry! Wizardry!"

Chant inspirationally as I interfere with attempts to execute Hyenakles by the baby deathclaw. Maybe grab it and drop it down from the warbeast if it's small enough to carry. Otherwise just distract it.

4v5
You run over, grab the baby death claw, put it in a full nelson and begin shouting extremely distracting things into its reptilian earholes. You force it, through sheer effort of descriptive verbiage, to envision its relatives naked, and in a variety of compromising positions.

Timidly, with one hand clasped over my eyes as I cower on the floor, offer up my half-eaten chocolate bar to the mighty/scary fire mage.
Hope that this convinces him not to reduce me to ash with his powers.

Mighty/ scary? Or perhaps just mighty scary?

In any case he seems to have been placated by your offering and wanders away.







Alright, the war beast heads west. After several hours of trudging you leave the overgrown city behind and enter some kind of desert. The ground is a hard red clay and monolithic mesas dot the landscape like forgotten stone fortresses. Their construction is odd: it's hard and geometric, smooth walled with sharp corners, looking both natural and artificial at the same time. As you wander, heading west, you come across what appear to be rudimentary roads, small tracks pounded into the clay by countless feet and cart wheels. They are wandering things, snaking across the landscape with a clear general direction, but taking a squirming, undulating way of getting there. The sky is a brilliant blue and the air smells of wet clay despite the air being hot and dry enough to sting your skin. Those of you that have skin, that is.

[Egan_BW]

"Maybe I'd be better off... New place, new body, new life. But what would be the point? New life comes with new troubles. New body comes with new limitations. New place comes with new life. How many times will I die?"

Fly straight upwards until the ground is out of view, then go up some more.

[Harry Baldman]

Mr. Bird, horribly disappointed at the lack of stupendous wizardry, turns his attention to other matters. He flaps his wings as something comes to mind.

"Aha! Should we tell the warbeast to walk without rhythm, then?"

Emit a saurian cackle at this personal display of wit.

Also fly a little higher and check about for signs of anything in the distance. Maybe follow some of the more promising sets of tracks?

[AoshimaMichio]

((A bird putting deathclaw in full nelson? This is new.))

[Harry Baldman]

((A bird putting deathclaw in full nelson? This is new.))

((A small deathclaw and a large bird.))

[AoshimaMichio]

((A bird putting deathclaw in full nelson? This is new.))

((A small deathclaw and a large bird.))

((I would argue that with my very sharp claws I could still turn you into tasty bloody ribbons very fast. Eh, I'll wait for better time to have my dinner then.))

"Onwards!"

[Harry Baldman]

((I would argue that with my very sharp claws I could still turn you into tasty bloody ribbons very fast. Eh, I'll wait for better time to have my dinner then.))

((Maybe, but baby deathclaws ain't shit in any case, so the 'but I'm a deathclaw' argument would really get you nowhere even if the laws of physics and probability were in any way consistent.

Furthermore, down the path of arguing the point further lie the endless realms of godmodding, which are in the best interest of everyone to avoid.))

[Comrade P.]

John pushes people gathering around Hyenakles gently aside as he steps in closer with loaded rifle in his hands.

- We had a good run together. If you don't understand why am I doing this now, I hope you will later. Goodbye, and roam free again.

Blam.

John cranks the lever on the bottom of the rifle, ejecting a case, and speaks as he reaches for new one to load:
- If you will find it impossible to rejuvenate my dying body in 24 hours, I expect you to do the same. Now cut the good parts off carcass.

We will follow the creatures who make their way in that general direction we figured out, if there will be no objections.

[Yoink]

((He's not just any old bird, damnit.
Also, you guys are heartless bastards. We'll probably stumble across some well-stocked, highly advanced hell-hospital at any moment.))

[Harry Baldman]

((He's not just any old bird, damnit.
Also, you guys are heartless bastards. We'll probably stumble across some well-stocked, highly advanced hell-hospital at any moment.))

((To be fair, death isn't usually as consequential in hell as it is up top.

Which does raise the question of whether Flamenco John and Tarmac are actually permanently and completely dead due to being turned into fruit and presumably eaten/blown up.))

[Comrade P.]

((Which does raise the question of whether Flamenco John and Tarmac are actually permanently and completely dead due to being turned into fruit and presumably eaten/blown up.))

((That was handled way back: PW stated that everyone who dies with the party reincarnates somewhere in the infinite hells, but party's chances of meeting them again are as good as non-existent, because vast infinity of hell is vast))

[DoctorMcTaalik]

Now cut the good parts off carcass.

((Not sure if John's just being characteristically resourceful here, or if he's recalling an earlier confrontation with Hyenakles.))

[Xantalos]

"Waitwaitwaitwait hang on. I can fix him, I just need a living sacrifice."

He looks ominously at some of the new arrivals who haven't done much of anything yet.

"Juat one..."

WaitstopDrMcTaalikisactusllyagoodplayer

Instead, choose the person who's been inactive the longest, I think it's probably that controlling mom lady. Give her one last chance to start doing stuff. If not ... LET THE MAGIC FLOW

[Ozarck]

Having been shooed away from his napping point by a gun wielding nut, Sebastian examines the tracks and the scene, and recalls what information he has about this place, it's inhabitants - sojourners, and the destination of those tracks.

[Execute/Dumbo.exe]

((I see you guys are passing around this fatality like a game of hot potato.
Should I be worried about my future character? Because I feel I should be worried.))