Dave, supposing that he could really use a river of carnivorous marsupials right about now, attempts to work some magic.
[Dave's affinity roll: 5]
As he drunkenly channels the power of the thylacine, the black, earthy mass that is the ground begins to soundlessly crack and split, hairline at first, but widening as the distance increases, opening up to reveal a writhing mass of striped apex predators Dave recalls seeing in a book once - they look way more impressive in person, he has to say, white fangs combined with incredible motility, their bodies seamlessly swimming forward along one another and the soft banks of the river, increasing in size as the river goes on. And as the storm around him begins to calm down, he notices that the river goes on for quite a distance before merging with the nearby river of booze - the thylacines, now provided with a much more sizable swimming space and no doubt inspired by the booze they're absorbing, seem to cut loose at that point, their bodies relaxing as their motions become like that of otters, flawless and elegant. Dave begins to get a little mesmerized as he watches the thylacines swim forth into the distance, realizing that this is probably a sight no mortal before him has ever beheld.
You know, for all the reasons Dave could consider magic counterproductive, it does seem to be able to redeem itself sometimes.
* * * * *
John, urged on by his judgmental cowfriend, goes to try another door, shimmying confidently up to it and twisting the appropriate knob, then pulling it firmly for maximum opening. This time he is greeted by something not at all like before - a very odd stone chamber lies before him, colored liquids placed in vials on towering chemist workstations, electricity crackling between tesla coils far above, tape deck computers busily whirling away in distant corners, and a large stone slabs forming the crude centerpiece of the room, right below a very large sphere of ominous-looking mirrors that seems to emit a very slight twinkling sound as it spins.
Intriguingly, all of the sounds in the room seem synced, with almost a rhythm and a melody to all the bubbling, fuming, Bunsen burning, crackling and whirring, and a not unpleasant one at that. Must have been quite a bit of work to set all that up, one can't help but imagine. But despite all this practically screaming of mad science, John can't see anyone at all in here - just a collection of things on the slabs surrounded by small dabs of blood, and a variety of very arcane, yet primitive-looking machines moving in strange ways not too far away. John wanders closer to look - while undoubtedly dangerous in the wrong hands, he supposed these machines were meant for actual use - to put traps in here would be indicative of an abysmal lack of good sense on the part of the designer. Besides, the whole thing does appear to have a slightly exhibitional vibe to it, so John cautiously proceeds, making sure to look out for the subtle gleams of tripwires and hidden assassin blades.
As he approaches the slabs, he becomes increasingly aware of something being more than a bit wrong here - something appears to be chained to the slab, still moving, yet it doesn't appear to be something that should be alive - in fact, all John knows of physiology seems to indicate the opposite. It's a skeleton, rather small and obviously not human, though definitely mammalian, cleaned entirely of muscle and organs and covered with very odd-looking webbing, yet still twitching in place and fighting against its restraints by virtue of some external force. As John wonders how this could be possible, his eye is drawn to a rather sizable vat placed right behind the skeleton - filled with a transparent liquid, one can see a great multitude of pieces of meat, still with a bit of blood and bubbles streaming off them, floating within it, each contracting wildly every fraction of a second. The restless soup that results is not exactly a feast for the eyes, so John averts his gaze, only to accidentally take a closer look at one of the machines nearby - it seems to have yet another vat in it, this one hosting a brain within it with a whole lot of electrodes attached.
John begins to sense a theme here, so he looks at the next machine - it appears to have a heart in it, suspended in liquid and attached to yet more electrical implements that appear to shock it every once in a while, disrupting its rhythm and keeping it highly unpredictable. Glancing back at the skeleton, John notices that it seems to twitch every time the heart changes its rate, which is to say every few seconds or so. Right next to the heart machine is one with a full digestive system, complete with absurdly long intestines, none of which seem to be suspended in liquid. Instead, some unidentified substance, bluish black and thick, appears to be getting poured down it continuously, and the digestive system appears to be continually retching, as evidenced by the significant backflow of the stuff running along the entire thing. And connected to the digestive system appear to be lungs, full to capacity with the same liquid. Completing the scene over there is a small tongue and a noticeable black nose, both swinging around comically, as if trying to resist the onslaught of the black stuff. John is beginning to sense a theme here, honestly.
Looking around further, he notices a set of organs he doesn't really recognize as such, stretched out between two rods and getting poked at violently by automated, painful instruments. Not very subtle. And nearby is another machine with several pedestals - one appears to have a set of fuzzy little ears connected to a set of ginormous old-timey headphones, a pair of eyes with lights flashing before them, and finally a pelt, taken whole off some sort of animal, no signs of tearing or damage aside from the way it seems to be continually brushed with what appears to be a sharp steel rake. As John slowly considers what this all might mean, he becomes aware of something next to him - a human figure, arms outstretched, smelling of antiseptic - involuntarily, John jumps away before noticing what it really is - an obvious mannequin wearing a labcoat, almost shoulder-length rubber gloves and what look like fishing waders underneath the coat. In one of its hands is clutched what looks like an oversized butterfly net, and in the other appears to be an old canvas bag filled with various tools. On its face is something similar to a welder's mask, except its visor seems to be clear.
For some reason, John feels that something might be expected of him here. He's not entirely sure what exactly, however. A very elaborate lab, though, he has to admit. And more than a bit disgusting to look at or think about at that.
* * * * *
Eta, quite happy to have made a new friend and gotten a great deal, takes the box of donuts and heads off.
[THE DUNKER's finesse roll: 2-1]
[Eta's mind roll: 1-->5+1]
Whistling cheerily, she heads out into the streets, almost skipping with delight at this marvelous morning and almost entirely oblivious to the way a certain
DUNKER is trailing her on all fours, crouching like a supermassive tiger while panting and wheezing powerlessly at the sight of the box of donuts in the lady's hands. The chase continues all the way back to the hotel, where Eta, suddenly mindful of proper donut etiquette, remembers that she should offer her kind host, who for all intents and purposes seems to be Bart right now, a taste of her wonderful new acquisition.
"Hi again! Would you like to try a doughnut?" she says, opening up the box and letting the sweet smell of pastries fill the air, eliciting a groan from THE DUNKER, who coyly stands in the entranceway, grinding his pelvis longingly into the doorframe and chewing softly on his left hand as he regards the box. Bart's eyes wander to the donuts, then to THE DUNKER, then back to the donuts.
"Do not mind if I do," he says gravely and takes one of the unglazed donuts, biting into it and chewing for a long moment, causing THE DUNKER's saliva to begin rapidly escaping his mouth and dribbling down his chin. As the large man swallows, THE DUNKER's body twists in unbridled agony of deprivation.
"Good," Bart comments, then looks over at THE DUNKER again, who seems to agree wholeheartedly. Eta, not sure what the man is continually getting distracted by, also takes a look, and a
"Huh," escapes her lips as she notices THE DUNKER's plentiful curves pressing up to and practically wrapping around the exterior wall and his slavering, large mouth continually moving in a lazy, reflexive chewing motion.
"Do you... know this man?" Bart asks after a long pause, uncertainty in his voice.
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 256070 times)