"Huh. Guess I could ask Cal, if he can be arsed to show up. Was supposed to meet me here an hour ago. HEY CAL WHERE ARE YOU?" The last comment was directed at his marked hand.
"Oh hey, dude, what's up? I'm running a bit late, since I ran into Mona over on the Sun - haven't seen her in a thousand years! Had to catch up! So, what's going on?" Cal replies after a few moments of silence from your hand.
The DUNKER sighs.
Dangit Pete, I really liked doing stuff with you.
Call over my massive amount of Pork Queens and tell them to push Pete and the poet guys down into the pit.
The queens oblige, swarming over the pit and depositing all twelve of the poets and Pete down there through the force of superior numbers without even needing to beat anyone with their scepters. They seem very satisfied at the outcome. Pete, though, seems significantly less pleased.
"I feel slightly betrayed, fellow pilgrim!" he shouts from the bottom of the pit.
"Though I admit I may have been a tad rash!""You were trying to murder all three of us! For spurious reasons, no less!" shouts the fat guy right back.
"Spurious? You were indirectly responsible for all the bad things that have happened to me!""But I did point ya in the right direction, didn't I!" the fat guy says with righteous indignation.
"Well, okay, a little spurious. But I lost track of the demon who may or may not have eaten my sidekick, and I have no one else to kill for revenge!""Have ya tried not killing anybody, perhaps?""The thought is occurring to me in this pit of flat harlots, yes!""That's the spirit! Now stay down there a while and think about what you've done, and we'll talk later.""Deal! Vengeance shall be evaluated!"The fat guy looks at you.
"That went reasonably well," he says.
"2D strippers give people perspective, I guess. So, then!"He glows a moment and the angels on his body evaporate. The remaining sphere also evaporates, though oddly enough the person in it is no longer the silly big-headed guy, but instead a guy who looks a bit like an Asian remix of Stoner Jesus.
"Dude, that was, like, kind of balls. I think we need some better stopping spells," he says.
"I tend to agree. Swankifying purses and stuff like that can be fun, but we need some firepower," the fat guy then agrees.
"No shit. That was just one guy, too," says the woman, her conjoined twin having disappeared moments ago, but then reappears again in roughly similar form when she stops to cast a spell. She sighs.
"Eh, screw it. It's not bothering me that much.""I take offense to being called an it," her twin says, gesturing with a stunted arm.
"Er, sorry," the woman says, half-shrugging.
"Neat. I do like the matchsticks, they're very original. So how does one go about choosing his or her particular way of giving magic to others? Do you just choose the object? And is the magazine Lee gave me really necessary, or can I acces the voice in the magazine some other way?" John asks Pilton, sounding excited
"I think you work something out with your voice, sort of do a little meeting of the minds. In your own mind, of course. And then it just works if you agree on something? The whole object thing is mostly for passing it along in a stylish, organic way, and after you have magic, it's not so important. Unless your voice just feels like being an asshole about it, though I don't see why it would, since it doesn't really have any other friends than its user.""How do I, uh, talk to it?" Tracey wonders.
"If I need to, I mean?""I dunno," Pilton says.
"I never really thought about it, which I guess is the key." He looks thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then at Tracey.
"Did I talk out loud?""Yeah? I guess?" Tracey says confusedly.
"Well, there you have it. Guess you have to talk out loud, then," he says.
"Okay," she says, trying to imitate Kermit's thoughtful look.
"Fair feline!" she exclaims dramatically.
"Speak to me if you're there!"A moment passes.
"I guess meowing works, yes! May I have a taste of your glorious magic without the need for a match?"She smiles excitedly, and then her eyes roll into the back of her head and she falls straight backward. Luckily the floor seems pretty soft around here. Her mouth hangs open limply and she twitches noticeably.
"Eugh. Seems like she's not liking that," Pilton says, tapping his chin.
"Hm. Do I sound as funny when I address my voice?" he asks of you.
Just out of curiosity, what's the name of the bag's WiFi AP?
Also, use the powers of the bag to insert my golden shoes in it, if possible.
Then use the bag's network to research the hotel and the people in it. Anything will do, from simple reviews to police reports.
The name starts to change as you investigate it. First it's a blank space, then it's six of those missing symbol blocks, then it becomes a string of those weird symbols you get when you try to render Cyrillic letters on a computer that doesn't have them properly installed. Then, for a moment, it's a big number. Finally, it appears to settle on "dont ask questions just use this already".
Also, your bag proves a good home for the golden high heels. Surprisingly easy to carry after that, too, though it's starting to get a little weighty now.
As for the hotel, you find no reviews. However, there is a news story about a police raid happening there from a couple years ago, and the words 'suspected ties to organized crime' appear in said story, as well as an indication that the place has been officially closed since then, which tells you a few things. Little Tay appears to have a blog that hasn't been updated for over six years. That seems kind of fun.
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 256178 times)