Dave, not keen on being swallowed up by the nasty-looking ground, tries to escape!
[Dave's body roll: 2-1-
1-
1]
It immediately becomes apparent that, in the state Dave's in, it might not be a real option to just dig himself out. And so, before he can even gain an upward inch, the ground pulls again.
[Ground vs. Dave: 1 vs. 3-1-1-1]
And so he slowly descends, the ground rising up to his mouth, and a whiff of the distinctly fungal aroma of it makes Dave very much queasy.
[Ground vs. Dave: 3 vs. 3-1-1-1]
Before he can do much else, he disappears into the ground, blackness surrounding him as he is pulled downward for an uncertain amount of time, eventually stopping in an area that feels... strangely air-filled, non-claustrophobic and habitable, though still terrifyingly dark.
"The <***> is here," a faint voice near him says.
"<***> he is," another voice agrees.
"<***> has arrived," a third voice interjects.
"<***> can <***> that," the first one says peevishly.
"<***> would you <***> about being a <***>?" the second one asks, presumably of Dave.
"Are <***> not <***>?" the third one says concernedly.
"<***> are <***>," the first voice remarks, possibly mockingly.
"Ha," the second voice says in an alien, distinctly unamused tone.
"<***> are <***>," the third voice grumbles.
* * * * *
"Aha! You are a demon of exthquithite tathte, I see. Here. It givethe a nithe clean buzzzthf and awethome tentaclth," Halesey says, offering the demon a full kilo of eldritch cocaine at once. The clown takes the whole bag and begins snorting it all at once.
"Thith thit ith wack, bro," Larry comments as the contents of the bag disappear up the clown's large, red nose, which seems to be disturbingly not false at all. After a minute of amazing nasal vacuum action, the clown raises his head from the bag, dabbing a finger in what remains, then rubbing that along his lime green teeth. Strangely, he doesn't appear at all visually different from the extreme overdose of the stuff, although the way he seems to be sort of hula dancing probably means it's working somehow. The clown cracks his head, then stares levelly at Halesey, grinning wildly, his eyes now a solid black.
"Weak buzz, cut with a whole lot of things, low quality, great quantity!" he critiques the batch excitedly.
"Let's go smash things before it wears off!"* * * * *
John, agreeing with Luz that this room is definitely bad news, decides to leave.
"Allrighty then. Let's hope the next door is more promising than this one," he says as they return to the main room - the door to the box room doesn't disappear, just like the door to the lab. Opening the next door, John begins to sense a bit of a pattern - it's another void room, complete with koto-playing cowman.
"Moo to you, sir and madam," he says.
"Having a good time?""No, not at all," Luz says.
"Good," the cowman replies.
* * * * *
THE DUNKER freely admits his true affiliation to the men with guns - he has no reason to hide it, you know?
"No one in particular. My stomach and endorphin glands, I suppose."The man in the black bathrobe nods.
"Good an employer as anything, I guess." He then takes a look at
Eta's box.
"Ma'am, give this man a donut. He clearly needs one."
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 256023 times)