OMG. People gonna die in the satyr thread because three or more people can't take a hint.
And now, a bonus turn for you guys! ding!
"Brands upon brands, brands within brands!"
Wait here.
You wait. and wait. And wait. it get's boring. You turn to look out the door and nearly fall off your stool. A very green, chitinous face, eyes set in the sides of it's head, mandibles slowly contracting and relaxing, long spindly arms folded against it's thorax is perched not three feet from you. It doesn't respond to your temorous "H-hello?"
Fortunately, you hope, you are interrupted by a rather sturdy looking fellow striding into the room from behind it. Big black beard, mustache curled to the sides in broad arcs, eyes of stone. And behind this one, an older man, short cropped white beard and pristine uniform, carrying a small case. They sit and wait, saying nothing, though the older gentleman nods at you once. after a slightly shorter eternity a translucent purple sac flows into the room, crosses in front of you, and takes up position opposite the giant mantis.
"Now that Miss Wexley is here, we can begin." They interrogate you for some time, asking very specific questions, sometimes repeating themselves, sometimes asking seemingly tangential things. You give more information than you thought you knew, though sometimes you only guess, and more than once you lie outright, whether to make yourself look good, or to get the interrogation over with, or just because no one should be forced to tell that much of the truth at one time.
At last, it is over. The bold fellow with the magnificent mustache says "thank you, you have been quite helpful., and the other two - the mantis on one side, and the purple Miss Wexley on the other, place claw and pseudopod on your shoulder and knee. The other guy must have slipped out sometime during the conversation.
"You may ask for one token of our appreciation. there are limits, of course. We're not setting you free, for example. But it can be ... substantial, if you like."
Actually, nope. If the instruction didn't tell me to, then I won't.
Just place it like it's supposed to be and leave the room.
It takes considerable effort to not make it better but at last you take hold of yourself, and of the statue, walk it over, plunk it down roughly where it's supposed to be, and turn it so it points somewhere in the general direction of the middle of the room, then stomp out, refusing to even check if it lined up with the other two. As you step toward the door, a chorus of voices arises behind you, and two apparitions stand before you to block your way. You walk right through them and upstairs, back to the crates.
"Looks like you made it back all right, and none the worse for it. Ready for another? Or you wanna just push a bunch of stone around until the morning?"
I eat the soup while I think about what to do.
I either have too much or too little ice magic in me. If I shift to normal, my forelegs might melt. If I shift towards frost, the rest of me might turn to ice. But I can't stay like this... If I shift to normal my ice parts might return to normal, and if I shift towards frost, my ice tolerance could go up and let me stop feeezing...
...
I shifted from frost to normal partway, and only my hurt parts, which needed the ice to hold together, became ice...
maybe if I shift towards frost, I'll be able to heal properly and return to normal afterwards, but if ice is all that is holding me together, and i lose the ice magic...
yeah, I can't risk it. shift towards frost it is.
And afterwards, I need to get outside to get room and shift to Giant Frost Cat.
I wonder why she called me Snowball. I mean, my collar has my name on... I broke my collar when I became giant didn't I.
You lap up the soup and find yourself licking the dry bowl. It warms your belly, and when the bowl is removed, you lay your head down to wait for another, and promptly fall asleep. Next time you wake, it is dark out. Grandma Bones gives you more warm broth, thicker this time, and afterward you struggle to your feet and take a halting step forward. "Oh? going somewhere, Snowflake? Here, let me get a basket, and we'll get some fresh air." And with that, she whisks out of the room. You hear some clamoring and rattling, and, just as you manage to hobble to the edge of the table your little bed is on, but before you have time to wonder how you are going to get down, she stuffs you in a basket filled with hay, piles some blankets on top of you, and sticks a little straw man figure in with you. And off she goes, chattering away about herbs and weather, young men and old women, politics and poverty, and the rock in her shoe. it is a crystal clear night on top of the omega base, and you two make your way to a high point,where you can see the whole horseshoe shape of the base, with smaller canyons radiating out from it, and three large circular holes inside the arc arranged in a equidistant from each other. "So, what do you think, little Frostnip? Oh, it's not a
comfortable place, for anyone. it wasn't meant to be. But it has a certain style, don't you think?"
Author
Topic: Omega Legion: Omega Base (Read 291929 times)