THE DUNKER sneers at such outmoded methods of vertical transportation as the common ladder, and instead tries rubbing himself against the furry, winged pillar of pink bats he just summoned, hoping that this will convey him upward without much trouble. The result is that he finds out several new ways in which his body can tickle immensely.
After letting his giggle subside, he climbs on up the ladder in the most miserable fashion he can manage, followed closely by Hungry Pete. Fortunately, he doesn't even have to go up very far before his two newly-made woman-friends help him up, seemingly exerting themselves to a great degree to do so.
"Good god, you're heavy," Ivette notes, watching Hungry Pete's lithe, yet burnt form ascend the ladder in a haunted manner.
"Has the disaster ended?" he wonders, glancing all about. No sound is heard, and he dares to emerge a little further out, though still obviously looking not particularly secure.
"Okay, this is really starting to seem kind of confusing and dangerous. Can we just get out of here already? Or at least speed things up?" Ivette wonders aloud, looking at
Eta hopefully.
* * * * *
Larry is not one to feel uneasy about entering holes, at least not until the morning after, and thus leaps into the trap tube confidently, finding it oddly comfortable for a mouth. If it is a mouth, of course. It feels more like a slide combined with a vacuum, and the faintly organic sounds are about to start tipping off his self-preservation instincts big time when he is ejected into what feels like a room made of stone, judging from the texture of the hard yet suspiciously warm floor.
"Here we are, bro! Look upon my works!"A moment of silence during which Larry gets to fully appreciate that it is indeed pitch black in here as well as very humid, hot and lacking in particularly breathable air.
"Whaddaya think, man?"* * * * *
Halesey strongly suspects he knows who the arrival may be, and informs God of what he believes - God merely rumbles knowingly, which Halesey takes as affirmation of his revelations. With this in mind, he hides - not difficult, considering he is mostly potato - he practically blends in with the surroundings without any kind of effort, and even if someone were to see him, it's not at all easy to see the little stretched feet, hands, ears and facial attributes contributing to the halo of flesh around the spatial anomaly, so vast is the vortex forming his core.
Lying in wait, Halesey is nevertheless mildly surprised when the arrival appears - rather than the expected miscreant that is that unfortunate Nigel, the domain of God appears to have invited somebody else entirely. He's a ginger guy, with an unpleasant face and shabby clothes, looking bloody stinking drunk at that, practically falling apart. The front of his shirt seems to have a few flecks of vomit on it. He stares vacantly into the distance, spinning in the almost nonexistent gravity of the area.
* * * * *
John, perplexed at this turn of events, wonders what his best paranormal friend might be up to at the present time.
"I wonder what Menkau is doing. Hope he didn't get into trouble," he says out loud perhaps prophetically. But this fails to give him any answers. So he adjusts his tactics a little.
~Great magazine spirit, do you know of a way for me to know how Menkau is doing?~ he beseeches his patron spirit.
~Who? You mean the cow guy? I'm sure he's perfectly okay. Why wouldn't he be?~
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Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 248546 times)