The events of the 28th of Opal, 1066
Yet another meeting Glacies had been kicked out of. Pushing over a cabinet on his way down to the workshops, the book keeper lamented over the situation he had been put in. This wasn't what he signed up for - he had great ideas, damn it. excellent ideas. And one threat to cut Aryn's throat, and he was thrown out on his ear by old Duke Bomrek, who was a hell of a lot stronger than he let on.
Sulking, Glacies stalked the halls of the workshops, pushing over carts or stuffing anything that looked valuable into his pocket. He paused, eyes lifting towards the end of the hallway where the alchemists lab set. Light flashed from under the door, bright streaks arcing out at random. Curiosity got the better of him, and he made his way over to Bertrand's Lab, pushing the door open.
Bertrand sat in the corner, his face lined with exhustion. Stacks of paper lined the counters beside him, and he was scribbling furiously in his notebook. Shaking his head, the philosopher said wearily, "Alright Akroma, flip the switch and remove the plant. Obviously higher life forms have issues. Try the bowler again."
Akroma pointed towards the door, frowning. "We've got a visitor, Bertrand."
"Hmm? Oh, so we do. Master Glacies, I apologize for missing the last meeting, I've just been so busy down here I lose track of time."
"Screw the last meetings," Glacies snapped, "Aryn's a daft old bugger, dunnae' good idea when he hears it, he don't. The hell's all the blue crackles comin' from here, eh?"
"Sir?" Akroma looked to Bertrand, who nodded and closed his notebook, rising from his stool.
"We've managed to create life here, but it's slow going. There are so many conditions that must be met to allow plants to grow, and anything more than grass is... it just seems to be too much to these dead sands. So our efforts have been pushed to other ideas. Such as this, my lightning machine."
He limped over, and spread his arms wide at the tubes of swirling sand rising from the ground. Due to the dry air and the large amounts of wool, static had been built up to excessive levels in an upper chamber of the tubes. Glancing over, Glacies noticed a small lever by the wall, marked with a poorly written sign, "Pull for tests."
"And what does your lightening machine do?"
"Nothing. We, well, our hypothesis is that stimulating what small pieces that make up an object, they can be copied and recreated using the power of the Sands and the Electrical Conductor. Isntead, we get this... please stand back, book keep."
Glacies took a single step backwards, and Akroma hurried over to pull the lever. The machine sparked to life, electricity crackling between the tubes, before arcing down to catch the bowler they had placed between it. The hat jumped once, twice, and flopped over upside down, a small trail of smoke wafting up from the brim.
Shaking his head, Bertrand waved a hand and Akroma flipped the switch down, the electricity dying. "See? Look at that? Instead of a recreation of something as simple as a silly hat, we instead get it burnt through prolonged exposure. It's just... it's a total disaster, we'll probably need to scrap it. You can't win them all."
"Oy, ya' poor ol' chump," Glacies said, almost kindly. "I hate seein' old people screw things up. C'mon, head to the storerooms with me, I'll buy ya' both a round of wine."
As the trio left, a small figure appeared from out of the shadows. Waiting until they were gone, it darted inside, the door shutting behind. Soon the blue lights began to flicker once more, childish giggles flitting out into the hallway, along with extatic cries of, "Eee, Donkeys'll LOVE this! It TICKLES!"
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 384947 times)