"Why not first round without it, second round with?" Daniels queries as he settles into a ready stance. "I don't wanna screw around with it too much until I've taken your measure."
Assuming she agrees, begin the fight whenever agreed upon. I can't really say anything specific to do; just kinda feel the flow and try to create and/or exploit openings in her defence.
Shores merely shrugs - she supposes that is an equitable sort of arrangement. She would of course appreciate if you kept things strictly clean, but if she understands correctly then that might pose slight difficulty, considering the method of deployment... but no matter, she smiles. It should not become a problem.
[The Measure of a Man: 4+1]
You have not had much opportunity to spar in all of your time here - the fights you've been in have been invariably lopsided, and often quite lethal. Thus you find the feeling of engaging somebody on even footing and certainly equal skill to be a strangely exotic pleasure.
Somewhat unlike what her practice with the sword seemed to indicate, her unarmed style is largely formless and highly defensive as she intercepts and interrupts your own overtures with unpredictable and explosive strikes of her own, her dress a whirlwind of ribbons that makes her a little difficult to properly make out once she gets properly moving. You are in the best shape of your life today - certainly better than you were in your old life. What this amounts to, ultimately, is that you manage to almost but not quite lay a hand on her in the first round. The converse, however, certainly does not apply. You get to appreciate the unique artistry of many a maneuver as you are repeatedly kicked, elbowed, kneed and finally quite decisively punched to the ground with an already great deal of strength applied extraordinarily well.
Shores comes to a stop and smooths out her dress with her hands, her shape momentarily returning to normal. She's flushed and breathing quickly, her smile having a lot more teeth than previously as she gently pulls you back to your feet. You have a lot of promise, sir. She apologizes if she hurt you - from what you said she assumed you had a very durable constitution, yes?
You take a moment to check on your bones. Everything's in place, and you must commend Shores for being able to pack a sting without genuinely harming you. You've seen some of the things she did before, and they're the sort of maneuvers that normally lead to skull fractures.
Round two, you say.
Most likely this will be more even, Shores replies in a tone of anticipation. You are, after all, fully warmed up now.
Yes, you respond as your murder-thought spins up from atop the nearby brass mast. That too.
This time she moves far more cautiously, her attention very successfully divided as you launch a two-pronged assault with fists, feet and sheer weaponized malice. She focuses on dodging as she tests you, first weaving out of the way of the sharp swipes of your thought, but allowing it to come closer each time until it travels into the indeterminate sweep of her own battledress. You finally land a solid punch and let out a shout of triumph as Shores recoils, almost flowing like water away from it - straight into the path of your murder-thought.
What happens next looks quite unusual as, put into an unenviable position, the first mate seems to try and catch the thought as opposed to, say, jumping out of the way - it's a strange enough thing to behold that you momentarily hold back on the assault, more curious to see what she's doing than you are intent on proving a point. You see her move backward as the thought starts to bite into her, and with a twist of her body she seems to let it slide along her, the minute friction and slight laceration slowing it down enough as it travels down her hand that with a slight motion of her arm she manages to suddenly deflect it, shedding enough energy from its flight that she finds it not too difficult to catch it with her other hand, guiding it subtly into a very particular track.
Still on the lookout from any attack from your end (you don't really make any serious ones, but elect to keep a certain pressure on as you move to potentially take advantage of, say, an exposed flank), Shores continues to weave around and her motions become like that of a juggler as she seems to very nearly tame your murder-thought in an amusing-looking dance that culminates in her very suddenly whipping her entire body in your direction, the thought suddenly building up momentum as it surges toward your face.
There is a millisecond of bated breath as her eyes are filled with a shining tension, watching as the undefinably sharp blade flies toward you, striking home as it comes to the tip of your nose, for a moment looking like it's about to split your head wide open from sheer momentum.
Instead you just stop it and let it scratch your nose for a moment. Had a bit of an itch building there. You and Shores exchange a meaningful look with raised eyebrows before she nearly collapses in a fit of delighted laughter. She will concede this one to you, sir! A worthwhile defeat if she has ever had one.
I will be taken? As in sense of taken to wedding altar? Am I really ready for that?
Leif smiles and plants his both hands firmly on Bruce's shoulders. "Yes. Let's go talk people. Somebody knows, and we will find that somebody. If we are all working together then we can find the box easily. After all, fate dictates so, its discovery is INEVITABLE."
He's about to say more - you, luckily, have all the answers already.
INEVITABLE
[Word: 5,
3]
Or, rather, you know that you will have them, and the time you will spend getting to them is better used elsewhere. You pull on the thread of time sharply and bring this investigation suddenly together as the room you were in stutters for a second as it empties suddenly of all habitation save yourself and Bruce, who looks confused and takes a single step before the room suddenly melts away, suddenly replaced with the chamber you woke up in, also empty for a second before people start to inversely fill in. You recognize Lee first of all, who sits next to you with her head in one hand, looking very unamused. Next is the lamplighter who is sat on the other side, the antennae on her hat wiggling gently as her memory trails a little behind actual fact. She looks at you, then at Lee quizzically.
The elder springs into existence suddenly off to another side, his expression intensely condescending at young Bruce, who is nearly overcome by disorientation once again as memory and context smacks into his mind like a ton of bricks. A woman you don't recognize with waist-length red hair is right by the entrance, evidently reserving the right to leave at the first opportunity as she smokes a chitinous pipe with squinted eyes. And also a very muscular, blond man not unlike yourself in build, twirling a leather ball in his lap as he casts a very bored eye around the room.
It has become clear, Bruce says as he starts to decide what all has become clear with this fresh rush of knowledge into his pubescent brain, that whatever happened to the object of interest, clearly someone in this room must know! They were all with the owner throughout the night, and no doubt one of them has to have seen something amid the orgy of alcohol and delinquency that followed. Someone has to be responsible!
Baseless allegations, the red-haired woman says, gesturing with her pipe. And he also has no proof, there's that. Yeah, the man with the ball says, this is all kind of lame. He's honestly not sure why he came here. Come to think of it, the red-haired woman continues, neither is she.
Don't distract from the issue, Bruce shouts! There is only one possible way that this can be done, he says, and that's by retracing your steps like a proper detective. If one of the people gathered has the box in their possession, it'll surely come out in this investigation!
Retracing your steps, Lee skeptically draws out.
Indeed, Bruce says in a triumphant tone. And here comes the piece la resistance, he points at the entranceway, where Earnest has turned up with a questioning look and a box of clinking bottles of what seems to be very strong tonic. Lee groans as she audibly facepalms.
As the rest of the room is silent, the lamplighter raises her hand. Can she just say, she begins in, by saying that this is the best plan and she sees absolutely no flaw in it? Bruce snaps her fingers at her - that's the spirit of investigation right there! Now, to make this at all possible to follow everyone's got to participate. Including the investigator!
Most unusual, the way that went. Thomas isn't quite sure how that happened; some sort of advanced illusion, he supposed. "Pardon me, good sir! What would be the best way to the top of the ridge from here?"
Ask!
He doesn't answer your question, and instead seems to go into some kind of bit. It starts with him opening his eyes and looking your way wildly, then casting an eye around the room in dawning horror before settling to look at your curious sword. His eyes meet yours again.
[A Fruitful Interrogation: 1]
Youuuuu, he points as if his arm had developed a sudden case of tetanus, youuu! Youuuu!
You what, you decide to ask as he completely fails to make sense. Do you know each other?
Nooooo, he responds a little more coherently. No, no, no, no, no!
Okay, you continue. Is there some sort of problem? Is he having a seizure? You don't have a phone on you, you're sad to say, is there a landline handy somewhere that you could call 911 on? Is 911 the right number in Australia? You forget if that's the case.
Youuu, he says again! It's here! It's here! Doom! Doom!
That's all right, you speak with futility. You didn't honestly expect a good answer to that. Is there something more you should know? Anybody nearby that you could talk to, possibly?
Doom, he shouts weakly! Darkness, death! Alas! Alack! There is a little more of this as he makes a brief apoplectic scramble for no discernible purpose, wets himself one more time for good measure and then loses consciousness for good. That, you have to admit, was probably the single most fruitless conversation you've had in this strange place, and not for lack of competition.
"Oh, I'm only browsing at the moment. As a... foreigner, I still don't know anything much about how magic works here or what would be required. If you have important business to attend to I'd be happy to come back later."
Confess own lack of knowledge of where to even start. Bimble over to the pawnbroker's if the wizard takes me up on that.
The wizard seems rather offended at this. So you're one of them people what come into a wizards shoppe and then can't muster the basic bloody decency to say what they'd want? He'd've thought better than that from the look of you, just saying. And now you're adding insult to injury, saying you'll bloody well come back later to do the exact same thing when he's got well and proper underway with his business! The gall! The chutzpah!
You're about to say something, but the wizard notices this and speaks louder and more indignantly. Gonna talk back, are you? Gonna ask what magic is again, are ya? It's magic, ya smart-arsed dingleberry of a man! There's not a thing it can't do! Question is what you're willing to pay for it, get it?
So out with it, man! What do you want? Don't worry your shiny little head about the price, he takes care of that for people like you. Anything you want, he can do or his name ain't Wilt The Wizard, Master of the Seven Bloody Towers!
Leif Erikson, Miner and Lush
- Half-basket of apple-like mushrooms (hallucinogenic)
- Paper party crown (worn)
- Moth-robe (worn)
- Itchy Woolen Britches (worn)
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- A Word: APOCALYPSE
- A Word: DRINK
- Body Count: 228
- Mead of Poetry (4 shining revelations remaining)
- Enders' Friend: The Grave of Red Clouds Parting
- Inscribed Wooden Stylus
- Iron spear
- 1.03 gp
- The Box: ?
- Induced Lucidity: A Map of Things Real and Imagined
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Perception, Memory
- Tricks of the Mind: Engagement, Negation, Abstraction, Prestige
- Tricks of the Mind: the Self, the Other
- Gods of the Underground: Did You Just What
- A Visit From The Stork: Is What You Yes
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
- Moth's Flight: Honorary Clansman
- A Night That Burns Forever: Later Today
- The Miracle of Life: Wayward Rabbit
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- The Mind, It Goes A-Wandering: 1
- Wounds: 1
- Traces of Mischief: Plasma Scars
- Distilled alcohol (in flask)
- Spirits of salt (in clay jar)
- Soaps of elk, bear, bat and snake
- 4 flasks of lamp oil
- Oil lamp (lit)
- Linen stoat shirt (worn, plasma-scorched)
- Stoat trousers (worn)
- Comfy slippers (worn)
- Never-made scimitar (blackened, slightly dull)
- Tooth-handled hunting knife
- Black leather boots
- An assemblage of amber and amethysts
- Silver thread-necklace
- Onyx spiral earrings
- 2 oaken rings
- Rusty, bloodstained knife
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Word: SYNTHESIS
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Grenade Jumping: A Solid Technique
- The Good Doctor: Secret Histories
- Sword of the Sand People: Cleaning Supplies
- Sword of the Sand People: The Services of a Minder
- Higher Tonight: There And Back Again
- The Old Mistress: Like A House On Fire
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Red and gold vest and breeches combo (worn)
- Leather boots (worn)
- Rubber mattress (filled with water)
- 14033 gp (in sack)
- Poor Unfortunate Soul: Forever Captive
- The Queen's Guard: Actual Asset
- Powers of the Beyond: Gardener of Thoughts
- Garden of Thoughts: the Stoat-Magistrate
- Dusty Wooden Speaking-Trumpet
- Crossbow Bolt (in throat)
- A Word: REND
- A Word: SILENCE
- A Word: EXECRABLE
- A Weapon: Murder-Thought
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Run Like Hell
- Induced Lucidity: The Silent Garden
- Elongated Affairs: Enemy of the New State
- A Place In History: Vastly Unreliable
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- Doomstones: So High Up But Such A Bitter View
- The Majordomo: A Great Divide Between Us Now
- The Voracious Dark: Decreasing Demand
- The Voracious Dark: More Specific Requests
- The Vault of Heavens: Special Treatment
- Scars of Time: Practiced Acquaintance
- Body Count: 3
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Wounds: 2
- A Word: ABSENCE
- A Word: GOODBYE
- A Word: WORM
- A Weapon: The Sword They Fear
- Insurance contracts, signed in triplicate: 13
- Gamble
- Nobody Cares
- Helen Clampitt
- Lily
- Undine and Prosper Eke
- Silver
- Tabernacle, treefisher scout
- Treefisher elder
- 4 treefishers
- Make A Man Out Of You: Battle-Tested
- The Grip of Tharn: Insurance Against The Storm
- Ranging fork
- 2 feet of sinew-thread
- Tooth-needle
- A Bowl, Black and Knobby
- Tight Leather Pants (worn)
- Incredibly Tight Blue Dress (worn, mutilated, mildly provocative)
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday, July 25th, 409 S.D.
- The Queen's Guard: A Reward Well Earned
- The New Queen: Lasting Gratitude
- Lonely Roads: Walk Away
- The Box: Absolutely Delightful
- Body Count: 2
Oscar Wilde, Chemistry Teacher
- A Word: REVELATION
- The Wicked King's Missive On Economic Reform (in massive silver scroll case)
- Wounds: 1
- Traces of Mischief: Glowing Facial Rift
- The Serpent's Egg: Dissemination
- Body Count: 4
- Cornerstone Helm (worn, collecting light)
- Time-ender's measure (wrapped, processing? stopping?)
- 10 m of rope
- Half a candle
- 1 rat, skinless and smoked
- 6 gp
- Poor Misshapen Dice
- Lock of Hair (unidentified)
- Iron nail, unused
- An Inauspicious Key
- Burlap Foot Wrappings (worn)
- Burlap Hand Wrappings (worn)
- Moth-Eaten Hat (worn)
- Respectable Brown Skirt (worn)
- Old Brown Waistcoat (worn)
- Bright Yellow Tunic (worn)
- A Wealth of Burlap Ribbons
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: The Less Dangerous Friend
- The King's Court: The Greatest Gift of All
- The King's Court: The North Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The East Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The South Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The West Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: A Gift For The Wicked King
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Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 258371 times)