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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 262431 times)

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1125 on: June 07, 2016, 06:05:13 am »

"Hush you, this is important to save you all from the stoats. You want to be important and shit, don't you? You'll probably be given a better occupation than servant if you do well enough."

Lie my metaphorical (since I'm not wearing any) pants off to placate her as I continue to drag her over to the shrine. Sacrifice time!

She seems less than inclined to believe your argument for some reason. Perhaps if you weren't such a filthy naked idjit of questionable origin and motivation. You really should put some clothes on at some point, you suppose.

[Break the Chains: 1 vs. 5+1]

Fortunately, keeping her at arm's length while she flails about trying to kick out of your grip is simple enough, so you carry her over to the shrine, where the altar awaits with what you can't help but perceive as terrible eagerness. You're not entirely positive about how this sacrifice is supposed to occur, you realize. You guess you could just let it come to you as you go.

Now that is most reckless idea I have had for a while. Not that my other ideas haven't been reckless, but... Oh hell, let's do it!

Get into his view and make this into minding resistance test and training. Teach him how to kick me out, if I even know how to do that. If he can kick me out of his mind he succeeds. If he fails... well, then he fails. Consequences of failure include relocation into less pleasant job.

[Mysteries of the Mind: 6]

You there, you say to the stoatman, who still seems rather intimidated by your presence. Yes, he asks? Is there some way he can, er, help? Why yes, you say! He can cooperate with you as you try to find an exit out of this shithole of a mind.

Wait, he says. This is a mind? Whose mind? His mind, you shout exasperatedly. You would have thought that was abundantly clear from all his thoughts springing up into existence just as he was thinking them. It's a very sloppy sort of mind, you note with obvious displeasure. Hasn't he ever had a crash course in thought organization or mindscape generation? Of course not, you say as you look around.

Wait. Wait wait wait. The stoat raises a finger. This is his mind, then. What's he supposed to be in this? A mind within a mind? You correct him swiftly and sternly - he's the ego, basically, and also a dolt. And he ought to interrupt you less.

So wait, he interrupts you again. So this is his mind, and he's thinking all this. Ergo, what he thinks is real in here, yes? Yes, you say. In fact, that's exactly the thing you wanted to teach him about. Building structures out of thought. Making mindscapes. Simplicity itself, once you get used to it. You relate your own experience with burning cathedrals and booming heavy metal covers to him as a colorful example, which seems to grab his attention.

Right, so wait a moment, he says right as you are about to relate to him the marvel of vodkafruit. This all sounds like minding. Yes, you confirm, that's exactly what it is. The elementary bits, anyway. The starter test. If you can do all this by age six you're about good to be a minder in your later life.

Sweet, he comments, and you can't help but agree. But what's he supposed to do with this? You inform him that his job is to get you out of here! Swiftly! Okay. How? It's simple, really. You just need a bit of context. With that in mind, you relay to this dull stoat the basics of the mind's makeup, the interaction of two minds and the techniques of invasion and resistance that arise from these. To your knowledge, you seem to have linked your perceptions to a thought-form that you projected into his mind forcibly. Since you lack the tools to untether them from one another, you really just need a bit of rebuke, you think. One with a little kick. Enough to make your thought-form nope right the hell out of this place.

The first step is recognition. He looks upon you, and you let him recognize your alien nature. You do not belong here. Come to think of it, you don't probably belong in Anglefork Town altogether, being a minder and all. The second step, then, is isolation! Look, it's happening already, you point as thoughtspace begins to constrict around you. And then there's the third simple step - rejection! You look the stoat in the eyes with a grin, arms wide open. The stoat considers this a moment. Rejection, huh? Well, he does have some experience with that. Let him show you something his first girlfriend did.

You barely raise an eyebrow before the stoatman's body whips into a supernaturally quick right hook, going into your face and a considerable distance through it before the rest of your body begins to catch up with the momentum. You are not so much sent flying as violently taken apart, each individual piece flying at supersonic speeds down a deep, dark tunnel of thought, disappearing into the unknown. The flight takes but a short moment as all of your bits impact the far wall of the stoatman's consciousness, splattering as most of your important components reach the other side of the great barrier as a fine red mist.

Oddly enough, you find yourself flying as you awaken. Or, rather, landing. Into what seems to be a wall. The impact is slightly undercut by the way most of your body hurts before you even meet the unforgiving, sturdy wood of the building, though it certainly doesn't help much. You peel off the wall limply and fall to the ground on your back, wondering if perhaps there was a more optimal way to do this. Casting an eye about, you notice that you seem to be somewhere other than where you originally dove into the stoat's mind. An alleyway, to be specific.

Next to you stands Lee, quite on guard from your sudden and violent awakening. She looks you over and sighs, then handily retrieves that vial she gave you previously. Open your mouth, she says.

"You know, I haven't the faintest idea. Losing texture? That sounds concerning, how long did that last, exactly?
Oh, and hello again Mr. Minstep. How are you doing?"

Hey, wait a minute, what did happen there? Can I remember anything out of the ordinary?

Quite a while if one didn't miss anything. Enough for three whole guardsmen to check up on what that knocking was about.

As for what you remember, well, not much really. You guess you kind of spaced out or something. We all have moments when we're less present than usual. Yours just seem to carry side effects.

And Mr. Minstep appears to be quite all right. That's good to know at least.

Not the situation I expected, but I can probably work with this. "Hey, I have someone here who's thinking about apprenticing, especially if it means escape. How about we get her a drink?" I attempt to get Claire's help convincing the girl. And hopefully alcohol can make the deal seem a little more tempting.

A drink! That can be arranged. Let the good doctor handle that, Claire says and the grubby woman nods, bringing a mug over to your companion, who takes it, only taking a polite experimental sip when the doctor begins to mime the process enthusiastically. Halfway through the effort she has a better idea and just starts on another mug of mead in earnest instead.

Anyway, apprenticing, Claire says, slowly rising out of bed as she gets herself in a state resembling order. There's kind of been a problem there, she says, slowly coming over to you, gesturing with her own mug at the floor panel. See, there was this one guy who came in and she "apprenticed" him, so to speak, but the old, if you'll pardon the expression, the old bastard didn't take the bait for some reason. So she's having some doubts about this dropping people into a pit business. As anyone probably would, the good doctor offers in the middle of finding yet more mead in the carpenter's stores.

The girl you brought with you starts to give you a frankly mistrustful look, and nearly jumps when Claire puts a hand on her shoulder. Fret not, poor girl, she says. There's probably an escape route in there somewhere, she says. It's just that the goddamn carpenter's in the goddamn way. So she thinks this probably calls for a Plan B of some kind. The doctor's had some suggestions, Claire nods in the appropriate direction. The doctor turns around excitedly, having produced a rather shiny-looking knife on command, an interesting feat given the lack of obvious hiding places. She's been interested in what living underground does to a man's physiology, you see.

There is a series of knocks on the panel. Claire rolls her eyes and turns toward it. Yes, she is still perfectly aware that you can hear all that, and her retort is still fuck you in case you're interested.

So anyway, can you two maybe help with that? The old bastard's probably trapped the place to high heaven while she and the doctor were working up some courage, so to speak.

"Ah... uh... hmm, nice trick.  But no, I am not a guard... well, I suppose I am a contract employee of the guard, but not technically an employee of the guard.  I am still an insurance agent by trade.  On that note, though, the guard I am working under would like to know what it is you want.  Hello, Mr. Wilde.  Pretty well; and you?"

Converse.

Oh, one surely couldn't tell you about that. It would ruin the surprise. One is under the impression that surprise is important in these cases.

In fact, why don't you get your superior over here? One feels that there is much that one would do well to bring to their attention, and you seem like such a handy fellow for that sort of thing. One rarely gets contracted help of your caliber.

Mr. Wilde, for his part, looks slightly disturbed about something.

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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1126 on: June 07, 2016, 10:23:58 am »

"That could have gone better, but man what dullard he was!"

Open mouth as requested and simultaneously explain what I got from his mind. Perhaps that will be helpful.
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1127 on: June 07, 2016, 11:50:31 am »

"Strange... Oh, about as well as could be expected. And trust me, you're better off not knowing what's wanted here."
Wait for Mr. Minstep to leave before resuming conversation with the One.
"You know, I may be able to help you work out who's vital to this destiny of yours. Providing us with a revelation into the matter might do the trick."
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1128 on: June 07, 2016, 12:51:02 pm »

Go with the flow!
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1129 on: June 07, 2016, 09:56:51 pm »

Hey, another chance to die underground. "I'd love to, but there have been some recent developments outside that I should probably help with." I turn to the girl. "This is still probably your best bet. It's stoat army, gray demon, or eccentric carpenter."

I then leave and look for anywhere I can duck into for a quick nap.

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1130 on: June 07, 2016, 11:02:30 pm »

"Um.  Okay.  I'll pass that along.  Thank you."

Go pass on the good news.

"The strange stout fellow would like to speak with you directly, what with you being my superior and all.  I guess it's important government business."
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1131 on: June 08, 2016, 03:04:54 pm »

"That could have gone better, but man what dullard he was!"

Open mouth as requested and simultaneously explain what I got from his mind. Perhaps that will be helpful.

You begin to explain when a delightful stream of vaguely curative tonic begins to pour into your mouth, tasting of herbs and numbing fire. It is a fine burn you experience over the next five seconds, a fine burn indeed. And the kick that follows, oh my. It'd nearly floor you if you weren't already on your back. As it is, you experience something of an overflow, you would say, finding yourself suddenly on your feet and, strangely enough, uncommonly sharp.

Lee looks you over. Seems to have helped. Better let it settle in for a few moments.

Your tongue suitably loosened, you get to the business of relaying the state of the local human population to Lee. From what you understand, they're indoors, kept away from the streets without supervision while the siege is ongoing. And that this will change at some point when the siege is over. According to that one guy, anyway, but you have good reason to believe that this guy was kind of dumb and useless for the most part. Lee nods at this. The best person to ask would be a human, she says and takes a peek out of the alleyway, looking both ways.

You sit down for a moment, she says. She'll scout around.

"Strange... Oh, about as well as could be expected. And trust me, you're better off not knowing what's wanted here."
Wait for Mr. Minstep to leave before resuming conversation with the One.
"You know, I may be able to help you work out who's vital to this destiny of yours. Providing us with a revelation into the matter might do the trick."

Mr. Minstep leaves shortly, seemingly having taken one's request at face value. Uh. You guess that's... okay?

Anyway, would one like your help in maybe working out a... less inclusive hitlist, perhaps? Because you think you stand to produce, ah, let's say a bit of a

REVELATION

[Word: 5]

The walls momentarily melt away in your mind's eye, and all things become equidistant, strangely visible. You stare at them from afar, all at once. A humble puddle of tormented souls, it's true. But even the humblest puddle can give rise to the most horrific of cholera outbreaks. You just need to find the little fragments of infective material within. One can't help but be fascinated as you pick through the eddies of this great mass, and lift up the people of importance. True importance.

There are admittedly few. Even if there were to be a victory here, the conclusion is already foregone. The council of speakers has won. None of these people can do a damn thing about it. Not the queen. Not the minders, few as they are. Perhaps the royal guards, for their knowledge could be of use in an armed uprising. Potentially, but doubtfully the priest. The most troubling thing about this lot is that, taken together, they could amount to a little in the grand scheme of things. Scarcely more than that, if one weighs the probabilities and considers the options fully. The queen would need to get to El to pose a threat. The guards need the queen to pose a threat. And the minders need an underlying infrastructure to support. Remove any one of the elements and their entire threat collapses completely and irrevocably. Could be easily done in five minutes or less.

Of course the dangerous element here, the true threat to the order of the world, as it were, is you. And the others as well. Ms. Minett, Mr. Daniels, even Mr. Minstep. Why, all of you are potentially extremely dangerous. Though easily distracted, it seems. And... wait, do one's faculties deceive one, or is that...? Why, one would say that it is! Aha!

Well, this is quite an unusual situation, one can't help but say. And that was very illuminating, no doubt about that. However, this does raise a certain issue. One needs to get inside still. To ask some questions, as it were.

Go with the flow!

[The Idjit's Grip: 3 vs. 6+1]

The woman redoubles her efforts to try and struggle out of your grip as the altar begins to reach for her mind on your grim approach through the still-silent shrine. All in vain, obviously. Your quotient of fucks given is just too damn low, you find.

[Superb Sacrificial Skills: 6]

You lay her down across the altar firmly, resting a hand on her throat that you make sure to tighten whenever she squirms too much or tries to kick you. Very effective in minimizing resistance, you discover. Now then, you think you'll start with... with... uh...

... yeah, you're kind of drawing a blank here. Uh. You were going to sacrifice her... somehow? Or what? Er. Uhm. You feel unsure for a moment. Is that what you were doing? And... wait, you think you're getting ahead of yourself here. First you need to get a sacrifice, right? You think you could go and... seriously, this is kind of weirding you out, you think as you rest your palms on the altar and look into the distance, attempting thoughtfulness. You think you did something. Or planned to do something. It's difficult to recall at the moment. Something about the gods of this altar.

You look down. The altar stands before you, surface invitingly deep. And getting unfathomably deeper still. A voice can be heard, but only briefly, very distantly. An echo of an echo. As it fades, the altar recedes further along a dimension you're not sure you could perceive before. You are... where, exactly? Who, really? What, eventually? Your mind starts to unequivocally die as your gaze is drawn closer to the altar, mesmerized as you neglect to think of anything at all.

You fall forward, strength draining from your body. You want to dream again, just for anything to fill the void in your mind. And just then, you touch the very edge of something dreadfully familiar. It floods into your skull, feeling like relief at first. It brings fragments of you, reassembling what fell over the precipice. Not all of it, you suspect. Just enough to speak, and to listen. And to fulfill your basic function.

Hello. It has been some time. Are you coherent? Ask a question.

Hey, another chance to die underground. "I'd love to, but there have been some recent developments outside that I should probably help with." I turn to the girl. "This is still probably your best bet. It's stoat army, gray demon, or eccentric carpenter."

I then leave and look for anywhere I can duck into for a quick nap.

Claire sighs. Well, guess it's time to work up more enthusiasm, then. She tells the doctor to dig out the other other supply. It's hidden in that wall over- yeah, that one, now tap the panel twice, and... wait, no, that's not the one, stop right there immediately. As the doctor pauses, her hand still on an ominously twisted bit of wall, Claire moves her way, using gestures to try and convey the correct method to avoid a steel dart to the gut at this juncture. The doctor seems rather impressed at the implied craftsmanship of the traps involved. If only her stashes were as well-guarded.

[Foolish Confidence: 6]

You look at the girl you brought, who looks back your way. Yeah, her looks seems to say, how about no. Fair enough, you suppose. She can take her chances with the demons and stoatmen and certain death in that case, you tell her as you curl up beneath a nearby desk, a cunning utilization of earthquake protocol for more mundane ends. You rest there for a few moments, gathering your strength for what is almost assuredly going to hurt quite a lot even if you were prepared.

You stretch out a little, and notice the girl to have remained even as the doctor starts up another lecture. Admittedly, she seems mostly curious about what the hell you're doing exactly.

"Um.  Okay.  I'll pass that along.  Thank you."

Go pass on the good news.

"The strange stout fellow would like to speak with you directly, what with you being my superior and all.  I guess it's important government business."

[Obvious Questions: 6]

Uh-huh, says the guardswoman. Not bloody likely. Thing just called down a near mass-suicide on a wall from what she understands. Only thing to do now is take battlestations and try to get it before it gets them, she's decided. And the commander, once she's informed of this, is more than likely to agree.

Speaking of, she says, but does not complete her thought before sprinting off into the keep. You suppose she does have reports to make, considering the top-notch quality of the information you provided.

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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1132 on: June 08, 2016, 03:39:45 pm »

((@TopHat, feed One to the well. They are sure to love each other!))

"Excellent suggestion! You are very smart! And I'm drunk."

((I probably should sit down and rest. But I also want to work on and see what went wrong with the dive. Break it into basic components and construct something less dangerous (for me). Hmm, let's throw a dice. 1-3: rest, 4-6: minding. And I get... 4.))

Yep, sit down and work out all secrets of the mind dive. Learn something good from that mistake.
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1133 on: June 08, 2016, 03:49:18 pm »

Wait. That's ... that's ... fuck. Why is it here? Wasn't it in the well?
...
God fucking damn extradimensional con artist.


"It's you. You're ... you ... question. No. No, I recognize your trickery. Ahem. The following is not my question, it is clarification so that I may determine what you are giving to me in exchange for the sacrifice of ... whoever that was. Any questions I ask will be immediately preceded by the phrases 'this is my question' or 'these are my questions' if I have multiple to choose. Now then, what will you give to me. How many questions, how many desires, please inform me if there are any other categories of boon I could be granted as a result of this transaction."

Clarification, not questioning. I don't see any question marks there no sir.
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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1134 on: June 08, 2016, 07:09:16 pm »

Ah.  A job well done.   ...   Now what?

Well, that equipment is still here.


Maybe a few more practice swings with that training sword.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1135 on: June 09, 2016, 08:22:45 am »

I stand up, yawn, and exit the building. Then I head down to the well to make a deal.
« Last Edit: June 09, 2016, 08:24:47 am by penguinofhonor »
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1136 on: June 09, 2016, 09:49:12 am »

"Wait, questions? Who is it? Is it whatever's behind the door? The thing in the well?
Speaking of doors, do you have a plan for getting inside?"

Questions

((@TopHat, feed One to the well. They are sure to love each other!))

((I have a feeling that my interference won't be necessary in that matter.))
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1137 on: June 09, 2016, 04:00:08 pm »

((@TopHat, feed One to the well. They are sure to love each other!))

"Excellent suggestion! You are very smart! And I'm drunk."

((I probably should sit down and rest. But I also want to work on and see what went wrong with the dive. Break it into basic components and construct something less dangerous (for me). Hmm, let's throw a dice. 1-3: rest, 4-6: minding. And I get... 4.))

Yep, sit down and work out all secrets of the mind dive. Learn something good from that mistake.

As Lee nods and proceeds out of the alleyway, you reflect briefly on what you've gained from this experience. You think you had it right already, really - you just launched your perceptions really sharply into someone else's mind to the point where you didn't quite manage to leave much of yourself in your own body. It seems to have been something of an unfavorable arrangement.

[Deeper Understanding: 1]

Really, it's probably the sort of thing you'd better not try again. You get the feeling that if you got into the mind of someone who even vaguely knew what they were doing, you'd be dead meat in shorter order than you can say "cornfield". Probably best to just start over on trying to access people's mindscapes than build upon something that wrongly executed.

Wait. That's ... that's ... fuck. Why is it here? Wasn't it in the well?
...
God fucking damn extradimensional con artist.


"It's you. You're ... you ... question. No. No, I recognize your trickery. Ahem. The following is not my question, it is clarification so that I may determine what you are giving to me in exchange for the sacrifice of ... whoever that was. Any questions I ask will be immediately preceded by the phrases 'this is my question' or 'these are my questions' if I have multiple to choose. Now then, what will you give to me. How many questions, how many desires, please inform me if there are any other categories of boon I could be granted as a result of this transaction."

Clarification, not questioning. I don't see any question marks there no sir.

As a consequence of the momentarily high demand of sources, you are entitled to four answers and one fulfillment for the goods provided. The usual reward, for future information, is three answers and one fulfillment.

[Customer Service: 5]

In addition, just so your obviously hurt feelings may be soothed (see: customer loyalty, excellent deals, not always right), you may pose two questions as one. Or more which will be divided by two, rounding down. The better ones will be answered.

Ah.  A job well done.   ...   Now what?

Well, that equipment is still here.


Maybe a few more practice swings with that training sword.

[Five Rings Or Some Such: 6]

You walk over to the courtyard, grabbing the training sword from before, which has been conveniently and no doubt completely accidentally left on the ground. You give it a swing. Feels much nicer two-handed. Faster. Yet just as heavy. You give it a satisfying whirl, vaguely imagining an adversary before you. A spark goes off in your mind, a childlike sense of wonder as you consider the noble life of a royal guardsman, safeguarding the queen from dragons and assassins alike. One day the kingdom will be at peace. The thought fills you with

DESTINY

There you stand, in the middle of the courtyard. Ms. Minett is behind you- oh, you didn't see her there. She seems to have stopped to regard your moves with a great deal of confusion, stopped mid-step as she seems to have failed to pass you by. She glances at the castle gate, and so do you. It opens slightly, and through it comes... the gray stout fellow, followed by Mr. Wilde. You're not quite sure why you throw it the other practice sword. It feels like a perfectly natural thing for you to throw it, and it seems just as natural for one to catch it with perfect coordination.

One looks at you, and within one's gaze you perceive a strange hostility. Fool, one's lack of eyes implies, do you think to impede one's evil plan? And, er, you catch yourself thinking you definitely could. Stranger still, you have the odd sensation that you must. You both take up identical dueling stances. Or, rather, you take up your best idea of one and it imitates you as best it can.

You suppose the time for practice is over.

I stand up, yawn, and exit the building. Then I head down to the well to make a deal.

Naps beneath someone else's desk are really an underrated way of regaining good health after both altercations with otherworldly beasts and a hard night of drinking alike. You head out of Claire's house and into the courtyard, where you notice Mr. Minstep practicing his sword forms with unusual... dedication. You think nothing of it at first. But just as you start to pass him on the way to the hole in the ground, you sense the ring of

DESTINY

The gate opens, revealing the much-feared gray demon, followed by Mr. Wilde. They strut into the courtyard with measured confidence, the demon locking its eyes on Mr. Minstep almost immediately. Mr. Minstep, still in sword-practice mode, throws the demon a practice sword of its own - the demon catches it flawlessly. They stare at each other, Mr. Minstep narrowing his eyes, the demon mirroring his stance in preparation.

You look around. The courtyard is otherwise empty. The girl, oddly enough, does not appear to have followed you out of the carpenter's workshop, though you vaguely recall her moving in your direction. Huh. You then glance back at Mr. Minstep, then at the demon. You get the sense that they have reached mutual understanding in the only way two gentlemen with swords can. Or, well, will shortly attempt to reach such a thing, anyway.

"Wait, questions? Who is it? Is it whatever's behind the door? The thing in the well?
Speaking of doors, do you have a plan for getting inside?"

Questions

Why yes, you seem to have caught one's meaning rather well. One congratulates you for that. As for getting in, well, there's always good old

DESTINY

[Word: 1]

You sense an odd reconfiguration. Fate, insofar as such a thing can be applied to agents of chaos and destruction such as you, your fellows and presumably oneself as well, bends with an uncharacteristic whimsy, or simply very characteristic sadism. The gate of the castle rises as the environs become quiet and still, revealing the courtyard beyond. You catch the tail end of a simultaneous exit by virtually everyone still in the courtyard, sensing an incoming momentous event.

You find yourself standing beside the One on one side of the courtyard, and on the other side there is the unmistakable figure of Mr. Minstep, flanked by a slightly confused Ms. Minett, who seems to have been caught mid-stride in a position perfectly mirroring yours. A wooden practice sword in his hands, Mr. Minstep appears to be in the middle of a flawlessly executed offensive stance, or at least what you'd imagine to be one. He looks at the one, and tosses him the sword in a perfect arc, which one can't help but catch under the circumstances lest one begin to feel wholly inadequate.

It occurs to you that Mr. Minstep seems to have his game face on, the expression of a canny insurance agent about to make the deal of his life. A more unnerving thing you could scarcely bear to imagine. One seems obliged to repay with something quite similar, at least in terms of stance. All in good fun, you suppose.

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1138 on: June 09, 2016, 05:21:50 pm »

((Note:  I'm going out of town this weekend.  It shouldn't be too hard to follow this by phone, but I make no promises of perfect attendance.))

"Well, good sir stout fellow, what is it they say in the movies?  In guard?  I think that's it!"

Looks like there's no stopping the duel!
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Destiny At The Gates
« Reply #1139 on: June 09, 2016, 07:51:54 pm »

((So essentially five answers and a literal genie wish.

Ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe.

I'll have to take some time to think about this, right now I'm not really able to concentrate to the amount I'd need to exploit this effectively.))
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((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))
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