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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 263503 times)

Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2370 on: October 07, 2017, 11:04:23 pm »

Daniels has been lost in thought for the last minute or so, a dense cloud of mixed emotions and tangled thoughts swirling around his mind.

I promised them I wouldn't seek confrontation with him. I told myself I wasn't that sort of person anymore
                                                                                  murder him
           whythefuckareyousoconcernedaboutthisanywayyourattachmenttothemisfleeting
                Killing him would not solve my problems in fact it'd only make more
Really want to kill that interfering bastard
What the hell am I even gonna do once we reach our destination I can't remember if I'm signed just for this one voyage or not                                 your minions could assist in writing that fucking documentation that's not the point you nitwit no shut up it has to be


                                                                                noonelikesyou
could i challenge him for the captainship maybe

                                                                                                   why is he so damn petty anyway

You Could Use The Well NO


At last he shakes his head and looks back at Peaks and Shores, blinking sheepishly. "Sorry," he says, scratching his head. "Just ... got reminded of something from my Earth life. Yeah. We'll go with that."

After about three seconds of awkward silence he pipes up again. "That's, er, that's alright, Shores. We'll fit it in when it's possible. Uh, Peaks, not to change the subject dramatically, but I had a question regarding Linda."

Struggle to deal with unexpected internal turmoil, ask about whatever the heck happened with Linda and the lock.

((Apologies, I did the thing where I thought I posted and forgot I hadn't again. It plays into Daniels' current frame of mind as it happens anyhow though.))
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2371 on: October 08, 2017, 04:30:25 pm »

"That works."
Cure the rest of them, then.
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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.

DoctorMcTaalik

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2372 on: October 09, 2017, 10:15:04 pm »

Rindle blinks. Just a demon then. He was more than a little bothered that this was a relief to him.

"Alright, sure. Tell me your name. And you know what, I think I could use some Pick-Me-Up juice."

Say above.
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2373 on: October 11, 2017, 06:30:22 pm »

Daniels has been lost in thought for the last minute or so, a dense cloud of mixed emotions and tangled thoughts swirling around his mind.

I promised them I wouldn't seek confrontation with him. I told myself I wasn't that sort of person anymore
                                                                                  murder him
           whythefuckareyousoconcernedaboutthisanywayyourattachmenttothemisfleeting
                Killing him would not solve my problems in fact it'd only make more
Really want to kill that interfering bastard
What the hell am I even gonna do once we reach our destination I can't remember if I'm signed just for this one voyage or not                                 your minions could assist in writing that fucking documentation that's not the point you nitwit no shut up it has to be


                                                                                noonelikesyou
could i challenge him for the captainship maybe

                                                                                                   why is he so damn petty anyway

You Could Use The Well NO


At last he shakes his head and looks back at Peaks and Shores, blinking sheepishly. "Sorry," he says, scratching his head. "Just ... got reminded of something from my Earth life. Yeah. We'll go with that."

After about three seconds of awkward silence he pipes up again. "That's, er, that's alright, Shores. We'll fit it in when it's possible. Uh, Peaks, not to change the subject dramatically, but I had a question regarding Linda."

Struggle to deal with unexpected internal turmoil, ask about whatever the heck happened with Linda and the lock.

((Apologies, I did the thing where I thought I posted and forgot I hadn't again. It plays into Daniels' current frame of mind as it happens anyhow though.))

Two Shores, not so much sensing the awkward atmosphere as completely absorbed by it, says something you do not quite process - perhaps something about lunch or learning or leadership - and makes a quick exit, leaving you behind as she retreats behind the massive door to the captain's quarters.

You are left with Peaks, who seems to have also been mostly drained of any real joy by the exchange with her friend. Really is a brand new height for bullshit, you hear her mutter.

[Clay Of My Clay: 2]

There's another short silence before you decide it best to get back to business, and ask Peaks about Linda - she seems more than happy to change the subject toward something more work-oriented. You present Linda to her and she briefly examines her while you tell her about the ill-fated attempt to persuade/animate the door, and her current state of relative despondency that seems to have arisen as a direct result of this. She seems slightly surprised at the first - not really something she knows much about, honestly, but manikins were never her area of expertise. Could be something analogous to how she is animated, perhaps, but once again it's not something she's had any experience with.

As for the despondency, well... Peaks sighs again and runs her fingers along Linda's head in a petting motion. There there, she says, it'll all be fine. Linda seems to brighten up for a second at this, but then looks at Peaks again and returns to her regular state.

Oh well, Peaks says. Suppose she did try. Positive reinforcement ought to do the trick most of the time, she explains. Speaking of, she probably ought to go find her guy. Best of luck with that, well...

...

... she doesn't finish that thought before leaving.

"That works."
Cure the rest of them, then.

[The Truth Will Set You Free: 6]

While Cindy heads off to plunder everything within the upper floors you set to work on the rest of the employees, shedding light on them until their petrification melts under your gaze, one at a time until the entire floor of the establishment is littered with scantily dressed, questionably jointed and very much delighted women from all walks of life. A couple seem to have broken several bones, of course, and many more seem to have sprained from twenty to ninety percent of their body, which results in something of a hubbub as they try to get themselves into a vaguely ambulatory shape, which is followed by an argument as you are called over to help one or the other out, which devolves into quite a shouting match.

What all of this amounts to, effectively, is that the madame of this establishment eventually manages to creak her way into the main room and observe the disorder you've created all around, at which point her mouth slowly hangs open and a very loud and disapproving creak can be heard all over the room, which does not entirely stop the rest of the girls from fighting between themselves, but at least definitely gives them pause for a moment as the madame stares at you, silently demanding an explanation for this.

Rindle blinks. Just a demon then. He was more than a little bothered that this was a relief to him.

"Alright, sure. Tell me your name. And you know what, I think I could use some Pick-Me-Up juice."

Say above.

His name is Dan, and Pick-Me-Up juice is something he can readily provide, he says as he skips halfway down the ship in no more than a couple of bounds, and returns in the same amount of time with a fairly large and filthy wooden mug, which he proceeds to fill with a bubbling and smoking fluid that he appears to directly slobber into it, and which he lets settle for a few moments before pouring it into a nearby barrel of apples (beginning what sounds like a very colorful process of dissolution).

[Lift Me To The Sky: 5]

Then, seemingly having cleaned the mug to an appropriate degree of satisfaction, he rinses it with a much less caustic variety of drool before, near as you can tell, shooting a bluish liquid from the corners of his faceted eyes into the mug.

Contrary to expectation, it smells quite wonderful as he puts it into your hands.

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Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2374 on: October 11, 2017, 09:15:14 pm »

((Coulda sworn I posted.  My bad))

"Well, I see no harm in a quick poke."

Poke sword at the wall in the general direction of where I came in.
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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: It Is Written
« Reply #2375 on: October 12, 2017, 01:47:52 am »

Daniels stands there a moment, staring off into the horizon.

"I appear to have severely fucked up whatever budding friendships I had with those two, as well as being no closer to solving the issue of why that lock was such a dick to you, Linda. My overall goals, for the moment, have been rather negated by the captain's petty dickery and I find myself contemplating what to do next that remotely fits some sort of reasonable moral framework.

Par for the course so far, really."


He turns to regard the manikin. "I don't suppose you have any ideas that you could convey through charades?"

Ask Linda for help figuring out my problems, because I'm Good At Social NetworkingTM.
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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2376 on: October 14, 2017, 05:59:43 am »

"Ah, Madame, excellent news! Your condition appears to be quite curable."
Give her some light too.
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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.

DoctorMcTaalik

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2377 on: October 14, 2017, 07:28:12 pm »

Rindle accepts the mug, sniffing it apprehensively. "...Thanks. So, are you employed on this ship? What can you tell me about it?"

Cautiously drink the pick-me up juice, and ask the insecty-guy about itself and the ship.
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2378 on: October 16, 2017, 01:54:35 pm »

((Coulda sworn I posted.  My bad))

"Well, I see no harm in a quick poke."

Poke sword at the wall in the general direction of where I came in.

[Delicious Walls: 6]

The gray blade touches the wall and the entire cellar gently heaves like an arm twitching out of the way of a cold, sharp needle - everything around moves at once save you and the rats, so there is no noise, just a sudden sense of motion as you nearly lose your footing in the cellar, followed by a fearful twisting of Elizabeth's corridors. You get the vague sense that both you and she know that you've just done a bad thing of some kind, a very innocent sort of guilt hanging in the air.

One must admit that was educational, however. Stone harboring a soul - even a small sampling already looks as though it will assist one's endeavors greatly. One would urge you to find another creature like this city, even if superficially similar - there are too many variations from basic material here to derive the entirety of the story. Perhaps one could persuade you to take a sampling elsewhere as well?

One of the rats on your shoulder sighs.

INEVITABLE

[Word: 1]

Time becomes liquid and your breath is stolen as the rat's squeak echoes throughout, your sword disappearing from sight as you find yourself standing in place for a good moment or perhaps several hours as stone figures spontaneously gather all around you, the faceless manikins giving you a collective accusatory look as you stare back at them helplessly. Then your breath comes back suddenly and you find yourself on your knees and gasping, the strange distortion feeling like a knot suddenly unraveling in your chest.

A manikin moves forward, indecisive about whether it should offer help or not, a natural inclination toward hospitality supplemented by an awful, gnawing suspicion.

Daniels stands there a moment, staring off into the horizon.

"I appear to have severely fucked up whatever budding friendships I had with those two, as well as being no closer to solving the issue of why that lock was such a dick to you, Linda. My overall goals, for the moment, have been rather negated by the captain's petty dickery and I find myself contemplating what to do next that remotely fits some sort of reasonable moral framework.

Par for the course so far, really."


He turns to regard the manikin. "I don't suppose you have any ideas that you could convey through charades?"

Ask Linda for help figuring out my problems, because I'm Good At Social NetworkingTM.

[Think Positive: 5]

Linda indicates helpfully that your budding friendships couldn't possibly be as damaged as you think they are, as Ms. Shores and Ms. Peaks were clearly very distraught as well! This seems to Linda to be the sort of problem you could fix by having a chat with them in private - most likely with Ms. Peaks, as Ms. Shores seems to currently be entirely engaged in a pointless errand meant to keep her busy! There's probably a perfectly reasonable solution to all of this if you remain patient and understanding of their troubles! That's what friends do!

That she manages to communicate this much to you with only expressive arm movements is something you find quite impressive.

"Ah, Madame, excellent news! Your condition appears to be quite curable."
Give her some light too.

[Lit Up: 3]

As you illuminate her with your full radiance, the madame takes a long breath demonstratively, puffing out her chest and slowly working her arms into functionality, experimenting with carefully measured steps as you shine upon her like a spotlight. First she lumbers on as the rest of the girls watch a little fearfully, then her gait becomes lighter and lighter until she has assumed a full-on twirl, letting herself. Centuries-old stiffness is worked out of her limbs until she becomes as nimble as a professional dancer, finishing her withered exercise routine with a graceful curtsy. She opens her mouth and her voice creaks no more but instead comes through dusty and hollow like gentle wind into a freshly-opened tomb.

Wonderful, she says, savoring the word as it comes out softly, but incredibly clearly over the suddenly absent chattering of the girls.

[The Lady's Return: 5]

She seems to be so very appreciative of the favor that she does not mention or indeed acknowledge it in the moments to come - instead she raises her finger and performs a quick head count, calling twice for Cindy when she turns up missing and mentally noting it down when the rest of the girls decline to mention that she's currently robbing the upstairs blind. She flits over to some of the heavy drapes and spends a few seconds minutely adjusting them with the tiniest of smiles.

She then politely inquires as to whether you've got to know the girls yet, unobtrusively indicating a few she would personally recommend for a man of your distinction (coincidentally the ones that have got their limbs in order in a timely manner and show no signs of them popping out again). One such girl, a squat yet skinny one with a very floofy red wig and a bony nose that's introduced to you as Ember, gives you a very wide smile as she says that she'd be glad to take you upstairs right now - one round that you've paid up for and one extra on the house for being such a helpful fellow, yes?

Though her expression doesn't change at all, the Madame's tone definitely implies the gravest possible insult at the idea of giving anything up for free. Yes, she says, one round on the house. Sensible, yes.

Ember takes your arm. She'd like to take you upstairs right now so that you can get to know each other better and really get any leftover tensions out. If you know what she means, she says almost says through her teeth.

Rindle accepts the mug, sniffing it apprehensively. "...Thanks. So, are you employed on this ship? What can you tell me about it?"

Cautiously drink the pick-me up juice, and ask the insecty-guy about itself and the ship.

[Rindle In The Sky With Diamonds: 1]

You sip carefully at the pick-me-up juice as you question Dan about what his duties on ship are, to which he responds that his duty is to look at things and find out more about himself and everything else around here, in which he is helped by three other women that have been tasked with keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't get up to much trouble, chiiiefly byyy viirtue of making sure that his status as an apex predator in virtually any ecosystem you'd care to name is used mostly foor huumoor and meeeerrimeent (speeciifiically that of his three handlers) aaaat theeee eeeexpeeeeense ooooooof peeeeeaaaace ooooooof miiiiiiiiiiiind. (speeeeeeeeeeeecifically thaaaaaaat of eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeveryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyoooooooooooooooooooooooone else). It's reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen aaaan eeeeduuuucaaaaaaaaaa-

While waiting for Dan to finish that particularly long syllable, you notice that your heart is currently beating at a normal rate. However, time appears to have slowed down about a thousandfold all around you. So as a pure ballpark estimate, you'd say your current heart rate has reached about sixty thousand beats per second. As you realize this is physiologically improbable, it quickens to about seventy.

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2379 on: October 16, 2017, 07:53:41 pm »

((Interesting Word there, rat.))

Uh.

"Maybe that wasn't a good idea?  I don't think we'll be doing that again here... it seems... rude?  Sorry, city folk?  If I could find the airport I'd be gone faster, really."

Stow sword in a manner obvious that it's gone.  Head out the hopefully now existing exit.

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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.

Eschar

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2380 on: October 16, 2017, 08:53:28 pm »

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2381 on: October 17, 2017, 03:55:08 pm »

"Oh, er, yes. Excellent idea. Let's go right up."
Up we go, and probably out.
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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.

Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2382 on: October 17, 2017, 04:39:43 pm »

Daniels looks thoughtfully down at his manikin friend. "You're a good person, Linda," he says, doing the closest equivalent to ruffling someone's hair that he can.

Time for effort! Go find Peaks again.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2383 on: October 19, 2017, 07:54:10 am »

Hm, this place might work, but I need to be at least a little rowdy tonight. Also I need to find some coins. That lady seems like the type to accept random bits of jewelry as payment, but I can't be sure.

"I'm just going to check the inn a couple blocks away, compare prices and whatnot. We'll probably be back."

I leave the bed and breakfast and head back to the stoat party. If the bars and taverns are still crowded, I find some people having a good time on the street. If there's drinking going on, I make sure to introduce myself as the monster hunter who killed the ghoul. That's sure to get me a few free drinks.
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: It Is Written
« Reply #2384 on: October 21, 2017, 05:52:14 am »

((Interesting Word there, rat.))

Uh.

"Maybe that wasn't a good idea?  I don't think we'll be doing that again here... it seems... rude?  Sorry, city folk?  If I could find the airport I'd be gone faster, really."

Stow sword in a manner obvious that it's gone.  Head out the hopefully now existing exit.

[Liquid Swords: 2]

You've put the sword away, but the statues look rather livid about the whole matter as they continue to surround you, inasmuch as a statue without a face can look livid at all. Looks like they've had just about enough of the airport talk as well. No, there's absolutely no way you can be permitted to remain here. A few of them move to apprehend you. This is when you notice another of the rats standing atop your head, and hear it squeak louder than anything you've heard before.

APOCALYPSE

[Word: 1]

The statues look up simultaneously as there is a rumble, and then a shift, and then a sudden cascading tremor that the very cellar itself moves to try and avert, but which only accelerates the destruction to follow - the ceiling cracks and opens as the ceilings suddenly tumble and fall, and the floor gives way beneath, opening up the depths of Elizabeth below you.

You fall and fall, the deafening roar of hundreds of tons of rubble trailing right behind you.

[To The Center Of The Earth: 5]

Eventually you impact the ground - softly, warmly. You bounce off the floor after having fallen no less than nine stories at the very least, and are launched to the side as the not-quite flesh tosses you aside, rolling to a stop where a wall nearly folds over you, but which you escape just in time before you are seized by it.

You find yourself in circumstances you wish weren't so familiar - here the walls and ceilings are still grayish, but with a glistening sheen and constant undulation that tells you unmistakably that they are to some extent still alive somehow, covered in small, nigh-invisible strands that pulse with warm yellow light that illuminates the leguminous chamber you've landed in. It smells strange in here, a mixture of hot stone and sweat, something metallic in the air as well as smoke and salt, and a lot more beyond that.

Eight bubbling golden spheres float along the far semicircular wall of the chamber, each fully the size of three men, letting off small bubbles now and again as it proceeds on some mysterious task. The bubbles populate the top of the chamber, mingling and floating about and occasionally fusing to form larger ones, rolling along the undulating ceiling at a relaxed pace. Every now and then they are joined by a... well, what you'd describe as a hairy bubble, one that's about your size, coming in from a bipartite passage at the center of the back wall - it touches a few bubbles each time before collapsing into a pile of liquid and seeping through a slightly larger passage next to the one it came in through - this one a little more porous and slightly larger. All of it chugs away at its own pace, paying you absolutely no mind, though you think one of the hairy bubbles pauses a moment and regards you suspiciously before proceeding on its business (mind you, you're not sure how you know that it did, but it was definitely a feeling you got from the way it waved its hairs at you).

At least your rats look awfully excited about this development, you guess. They appear to have their noses squarely pointed in the air, waving their heads to and fro and sniffing around and arguing between themselves on your shoulder about the significance of each part of the bouquet of scents they're picking up.

"Oh, er, yes. Excellent idea. Let's go right up."
Up we go, and probably out.

Ember takes you by the hand and pulls you upstairs, making just about the most manic forced giggle you've ever heard in her rush. The Madame looks on as you run upstairs - young love, you hear her mutter. Ought to charge a little extra if anything.

[The Nunnery Caper: 5]

You get low behind the railing along the upstairs balcony as Ember slams the door of a bedroom you pass by, stopping her forced giggle as you proceed further on into what must be the Madame's office, escaping notice as the two of you slip through the door where Cindy awaits.

[A Millennium's Savings: 3]

For her part she appears to have been very busy cracking an ancient-looking dusty safe with great aplomb, the door hanging open as she empties the stash of money inside into a pillowcase she looks to have appropriated on the way. She looks up - hey, she says, pretty good timing there. And you've brought Ember too, nice.

Ember gets right to the point: the Madame's been unpetrified. Cindy looks at you with her brow furrowed - why'd you do a thing like that, then? That kind of complicates the process of you getting out of here in a plausibly deniable fashion, she hopes you realize - y'see, you tend to do a lot better on making an escape against people who move at geological speeds, if that wasn't clear to you already.

She's likely going to check here in a couple of minutes at most, Ember says worriedly.

Right, Cindy says, that calls for an amendment to the plan. You're all going out the window then, she points to a small window on the far side of the dingy office. Walking up to it, she finds the window to be locked with a latch that takes a little effort to undue with all the rust on it, but it comes open after a second or two and Cindy leans out - yep, all clear down there.

You take a look as well - the office side of the nunnery appears to peer down into a sheer three-story drop all the way to the street, the catwalk that went along its side seemingly lost to architectural misadventure.

You turn to Cindy and mention that maybe this isn't the best plan. Nonsense, says Cindy as she slaps a similarly unconvinced Ember on the back, there's a web down there to catch anyone who falls so they don't break anything in the fall or wander off or what have you. It's all perfectly safe, y'see, if a bit sticky.

Daniels looks thoughtfully down at his manikin friend. "You're a good person, Linda," he says, doing the closest equivalent to ruffling someone's hair that he can.

Time for effort! Go find Peaks again.

Linda beams, and you notice that she does have a sort of curled hairstyle fashioned out of clay on her head - you ruffle that approvingly, which seems to make her so genuinely happy you almost don't manage to resist smiling yourself. Letting her sit on your shoulder for the time being waving her peg legs back and forth as you walk, you eventually find Peaks in suspicious proximity to your delightful minions, who are standing slightly down the hall from Mr. Fischgartner who in turn appears to have met Dan and drunk a mug of some kind of thick fluid that he's offered.

It looks like Mr. Fischgartner is about to explode now, or something similar - he looks like a metal cable about to snap and take someone's head off, looking like he's violently vibrating for a moment before you realize that's just what his breathing seems to be right now. Dan is politely explaining his adventures thus far to the guy, not particularly minding his obviously chemically altered state.

He asked for some Pick-Me-Up Juice, Pines explains to Peaks who has stopped right by them, realizing that walking closer would likely be unwise. To the minions' credit, the alchemist does look substantially amused as well as bewildered by this turn of events, and proceeds to ask about what exactly Pick-Me-Up Juice is. Pines posits that it's probably some kind of mating thing for jugglers, pheromones and shit. Day adds that nobody's drunk as much as Fischgartner over there, but from their testing a thimbleful or so it's a lot like amphetamines but, like, hella strong. Truthfully though, Fires candidly adds, fuck if they know what's really in it - anyway, they're not the alchemists here, though if there's something in it for them they'd definitely be willing to get a generous sampling for analysis and-

Peaks turns to you instead, looking mildly inconvenienced. Looks like your charming minions have tied up her test subject in the process of their reign of terror, she says, at least for the moment. She was kinda hoping to grab some more flesh off him for experiments, considering yours just went and inconsiderately turned into him all of a sudden. Don't suppose you'd care to make another donation? 

Hm, this place might work, but I need to be at least a little rowdy tonight. Also I need to find some coins. That lady seems like the type to accept random bits of jewelry as payment, but I can't be sure.

"I'm just going to check the inn a couple blocks away, compare prices and whatnot. We'll probably be back."

I leave the bed and breakfast and head back to the stoat party. If the bars and taverns are still crowded, I find some people having a good time on the street. If there's drinking going on, I make sure to introduce myself as the monster hunter who killed the ghoul. That's sure to get me a few free drinks.

The woman seems to have no opinion one way or the other about your return, being about equally satisfied about the prospects of either getting some money or being permanently rid of you. Her cats, however, seem ineffably pleased for the moment.

[A Night Out On The Town: 5+1]

You find a party easily enough in a place called the Firs Aplenty - it's a bit difficult to get in at first, mind you, considering the place is quite packed, but flashing your badge and informing them you're the one responsible for the heroics during the day proves to be a remarkably effective social lubricant as the masses of jubilant stoats and humans alike part to give way and get you, the doctor and even Oggie a place to sit at the bar.

Naturally, everybody buys you drinks. It's actually a little hard to get them to stop as everyone crowds around you and clamors for a story, some kind of demonstration of your monster hunter powers (Oggie gives one of her Y/N looks) or even just general recognition - the one thing that strikes you about the public is how readily everyone introduces themselves. There's Tedward the butcher, Jimothy the carpenter, Timson from the docks, Youbin the lawyer-in-training, Cay the scholar-in-training who'd love to tell you all about her thesis on stoat linguistics before Yarbool the classically trained bard elbows her out of the way to give you a song they wrote immediately when they heard the news, so strong was the inspiration!

The Firs Aplenty nucleates all around you as attention falls on you, the stoats ready for just about any kind of fun you have in mind as the drinks keep coming, the tavern keeper looking ecstatic at the absolute blowout of basically all of his alcohol stores that this night appears to promise in the near future.

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