You are now an enamored Carove. You are examining one of your most prized possessions after a few practice rounds of explosives practice. Nothing lifts your spirits like hearing your clicks echo through the many cracks and openings of a good skull and there’s next to no topping an ANCIENT MOTHER GRUB SKULL.
Tomorrow I head to Washington for my annual vacation with my aunt and uncle. It’s lovely up there with lush green forests and rocky beaches to travel over. However technology is not as encompassing as the forests. There’s a 90% chance I will be without a scanner for two weeks.
I have an update almost ready for the main adventure and two asks scanned in, so this won’t be a complete dry period. If push comes to shove I can take pictures of the sketches with the digital camera and work from those, but I would prefer not to. We shall see.
He can’t. It’s one thing to see the body of a fallen ally, it’s another to see his possessions. Somehow that brings out more of a reaction, like a long lost memory. These glasses meant something to someone. It is his duty to honor him like you have with those you have found before
The eye-wear is stored away in Ervinn’s BRIBE MODUS. It’s all in all a reliable way to store things. It’s taking them out that can be a hassle…
Right, wipe your tears love. The hive is right there. Just go in and…
…the hell is going on here?
CONSIS: He 2ound2 Liike A Real Treat From What IIve Heard
CONSIS: A Magiiciian And Prank2ter Ye2
CONSIS: He2 2cared
CONSIS: He Ju2t Realiized What Happened II Thiin-
CONSIS: Oh Erviinn
CONSIS: Plea2e Forget What You Heard
Dealing with some last minutes not so pleasantries.
Crying… when was the last time you did that? It’s been sweeps at the very least. An emotional response to certain stimuli including and not limited to scraped knees, bruised elbows, cut onions, knowing that your beloved doesn’t feel the same, frustration over inability to complete simple tasks, contemplation of possible post-death existence, the knowledge that your friends would be better off without you, excessive stress, uncontrollable laughter, broken limbs and so on.
There’s no need for such primitive things. You deserve to suffer in silence. Why give in and reveal such an vulnerable state? You’ll only get hurt again. Cold logic has served you well ever since that long ago day.
As long as you don’t feel a thing…
You have guests to attend to.
Hate? How can you hate Ervinn? Sure he’s awkward and a little unaware when he’s struck a chord, but that’s nothing to get upset about. He’s a good person who needs someone to encourage the better sides of him. Could that person be-
ERVINN: cOME ON CON AFTER ALL THE FUSS BOUT GOIN IN THE KITCHEN YOURE JUST GONNA STAND THERE,
ERVINN: mAYBE YOURE HUNGRY TOO,
ERVINN: fUCK WWHAT DO YOU LIKE,
ERVINN: i CAN MAKE AN OMELETTE OR PANCAKES,
ERVINN: jUST TELL ME KAY,
You don’t know how you feel about Ervinn… but his hand is a warm fit.
Excuse him, he needs to go to the cave where the pelts are kept. Now.
She’s been on land for ten minutes.
Your name is GLAUCI VANTAS. This is the first time you’ve ever been on land and your legs are next to worthless. You are trying to find the cave systems that Pehrik specified, but that is proving to be more than a little difficult. You just hope…
Why would Srikos do that? This is hardly the first time she’s woken up on Finvul. Although the first time was less than ideal, she has become rather comfortable with the abnormalities of this singular, blue, dead moon. Srikos ignores her other self for now and takes a look around the room.
The dream room is fairly spacious compared to her work station. The bed, barely made for two she notes, appears to be some sort of attempt at class with the canopies, but failed to set them up correctly. The windows have similar decor as the bed does and an array of plants cover the sills. The full bookcase is a nice touch and detail lore that even the most old and tattered of tomes in the waking world would never dare to acknowledge. They speak of heroes from the past and their exploits… up to a point.
Many of the books lack an end of any sort, they just stop. She has learned much about the legends, the heroes that broke the world, the tragic sisters, and about the twin moons. The twin moons have an elaborate history behind them, with a one sided battle for control over the heaven’s destruction, the general that united the armies of the battle field only to wallow in defeat, and a queen’s noble attempt to save her people only to be doomed by some bitch angry about a hat.
Conversely, Finvul is not mentioned in a single book. Not even a cliff note. This is both fascinating and irritating and baffling all at once. Sure, there’s no army or any sort of populace on this icy rock, but why ignore it all together? The only information Srikos has on this place is what she’s gathered from living here which is basically a frozen empty rock.
Scratch that, a frozen, empty, blue rock. Lots and lots of B100. Fitting for her caste, but more than a little overbearing and unsettling when plastered all over the wall.
SRIKOS: Heeeeeeeey! It’s rude to ignore a lady.
SRIKOS: D –> I can hardly call you a lady
SRIKOS: It’s 8een so long since you’ve talked to me. It’s not healthy to ignore your other self and you know it.
SRIKOS: D –> Forgive me if I find you hard to speak with.
SRIKOS: D –> I can only handle so much tomf001ery in my life.
SRIKOS: Gee, at least pretend to 8e happy for once.
SRIKOS: You are such a draaaaaaaag.
SRIKOS: D –> Don’t
SRIKOS: D –> Roll your letters around me
SRIKOS: D –> I know it’s a part of your quirk and naturally hard to resist
SRIKOS: D –> But please don’t
SRIKOS: D –> You know very well
SRIKOS: D –> We are the same person
SRIKOS: D –> You are me
SRIKOS: D –> And I am you
SRIKOS: D –> So please stop this at once
SRIKOS: D –> Speaking of which
SRIKOS: D –> Could we add a no touching clause to our agreement
The skull of course! You see any other hot bitches around here?
Why, dearest Mother Grub. It appears the echo lost in your eye has caught the back most chamber near the occipital bone. The sweet poetry almost makes a girl forget how some horrible monster must have torn your head clean off during what must have been a desperate attempt for food. It is a good omen for illicit lovers. Could you imagine the scandal if anyone found out? It is a secret EVERYONE must know.
But worry not. Your heart has long stopped pumping the gem-like hues of long ago. You have been given a new life, erm, death. You can be taught the ways of the class you were never meant for. No one is beyond learning something new.
Be grateful, dearest Mother Grub. For the first time in your meaningless death you have met a woman with true compassion.
And just what do you think YOU’RE looking at??? Keep your small, batty judgment to yourself. As if your own record is so spotless! Don’t forget who found you wooing musclebeasts! OH COME ON, MOM I’M HAVING A MOMENT!! JUST GO AWAAAAAAAAY!!!
You attempt to throw a shoe at B4TM0M, but you miss horribly.