radio414

call me doctor moreau and cross me an animal

In the Wake of Dia The interior of Dia’s temple was much like its exterior, though the way it intentionally closed itself off from all but the most necessary natural light meant the colors of the sea it presented to the world were much more muted now, closer to the seafloor than open ocean. Where light was necessary, torches had been set up, and the flickering light of the fire appeared similar to the refraction of light as it passed through water. In this environment, finally, Levanna breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now, she thought, she could start thinking about what needed to be done. There weren’t all that many other people in Dia’s temple. There were some acolytes, but all of them seemed busy with the maintenance and upkeep and less time on visitors. What visitors they did have were silently attending to their own prayers. Maybe they did want an ocean, Levanna pondered. It would certainly increase attendance, ignoring all the practical matters of terraforming, first and foremost being where it would go in the first place. Well, you also had to ignore Adrian’s complaints, but that was an entirely different matter. She’d nearly forgotten that she had someone following her. Finn, of course, had come in right after her. Levanna turned her attention to him. “I think --” she kept her voice low “-- there’s a path behind that altar that leads to a little pool and the mother of pearl stone if you would like to commune there,” she said. “I will be right out here if you need me for anything.” In the Court of the Blacksmith King The occupants of Taros’ temple didn’t seem to notice the active hostility his watchdog had for them, or, if they did, they didn’t seem to care. In their defense, a few of the stronger -- or at least bigger -- of their company had moved to the front, but for the most part they still loudly beckoned anyone interested in coming in to do so. The calls never really seemed cacophonous, though, like a large group of people talking over each other normally would. Instead, each voice seemed harmonious with every other voice, a massive chord that never seemed to lose intensity. Nor did it gain it, though, even as Kitt approached. “Come in!” they called. “Come and listen.” The larger members of the crowd broke off and moved even more forward to meet Kitt. The guards behind him were significantly less ambitious. Without Levanna or a similar authority to encourage them, some even backed off, instead moving to the perimeter where they could at least keep things contained. The whole situation had built to a high-pressure crucible, perhaps fitting for those involved. Epitaph Emily was caught at the crossroads between two, no, three emotions. The first, and most obvious, was grief. Her mother had just succumbed to her illness right in front of her, and the watchdog she had enlisted to assist her wasn’t doing much comforting. The one she hadn’t did a little better, but it did little to quell how she felt. The second emotion was fury, and that one was a little harder to describe. The Nuumu watchdog had still pledged to fix everything, for example, and she seemed pretty firm on that promise, for example. But she still felt the need to lash out at someone, and there was only a certain subset of people that would do. The last feeling was a certain numbness. It wasn’t a “not feeling anything” feeling -- there certainly was something there -- it was a “world in slow-motion but not quite nauseous” sort of feeling. The weight of the world had yet to crash completely down on her, but it certainly seemed like it was about to. “If you would be so kind as to show us to the temple square,” the Nuumu dog had said. That, she could do. “Of course,” Emily said. “Just one moment.” She had to center herself, and the only way she could think to do that was through prayer. Emily made her way back down the stairs to the bakery and took a small bag -- no bigger than an apple -- over to the oven, placing it just inside while she knelt underneath to set it alight. “Oh Lar, God of Hearth and Home,” she prayed, “please help to repair mine.” It was a small gesture, probably barely noticeable to someone as important as a god, but she hoped it would help. What was next? The Temple Square? “Ah, yes, follow me.” The temples were only a few turns away anyways, and as long as you kept your back to the sun, it was actually difficult to get lost. Even besides that, Emily had taken the route so many times that she could have blindfolded herself and still made it. “That’s the Taros temple over there if that’s where you were headed,” Emily said, pointing towards the guards and the crowds. “I heard there was supposed to be a ceremony today, that must be what the bustle is about, but I’m sure you can find someone who can help you there. Nuumu’s temple is right next to it. “But as for you,” Emily turned her attention to the Myria watchdog, “if it’s no trouble, I’d like to ask you for a favor.” She seized him by the wrist, again, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she’d intended, and pulled him away from his companion. Turning around, she brought her voice low and said, “Is there a way for you to tell me my fate? Or what will happen if I perform a specific action? I’d like to request your guidance.” OOC

colleges get $120,000 of tuition and write me after i graduate asking for more? they spent it already?

I don't really have one? Like, I'm aware they exist but it doesn't really seem like my thing.

What’s the correct way, in your opinion, to scramble an egg?

Haven’t you heard about the bird? Don’t you know the bird’s the word?

You already answered cake or pie, but is there a sweet that triumphs over both? Or is it still just cake?

What anime movie would you most like to be turned into a series?

Which part of the pun is more important to you, the cows or CaoCao?

Elsie didn’t even realize the wolf girl Lucine had followed her until she sat down next to her and ordered “whatever alcohol they had in stock.” Which was a bold choice, really. There were countless ways to ruin a good drink, and too many of them were done without the brewer even knowing they’d made a mistake. The repetition of that mistake turned it into a habit, and poor habits led to bad traditions. She would have said something, but Lauryn was too quick on the draw, and soon enough, the bartender had plonked a mug in front of each of them. And at that point, it would be ruder not to. Well, Elsie thought, here was to bad habits. Or, as she put more succinctly, raising her cup to Lucine, “To life.” It was fine. It was fine. It tasted like fermented rice porridge, and Lauryn had called it “sake” so maybe it was supposed to taste like that? It was fine. And she didn’t need to drink any more of it if she didn’t want to. Besides, the conversation had moved on since then, to the actual point of the visit. “The monster attacks?” Lauryn said. “Why you lot want to know?” Elsie was all geared up to say something heroic like, “We’re here to stop them,” but Corbin interrupted her with a pressing question of his own. “Sorry, I know the rest of the talking is going to be important and whatnot, but I just have to know, what did the crow do?” Lauryn seemed surprised at Corbin’s ability to talk, but the most that came of it was a chuckle before she waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, the name! Truth be told, it was a joke and nickname from my ex before I had to put the dirty cheater down for lyin' to me.” “So are you the naughty crow, then, or they were?” “Back when we were together, I was, but given the situation, well, I reckon you can figure out who was the naughty crow then.” Now Elsie was interested too. “Really?” she said. “What’s the naughtiest thing you did, if you don’t mind me asking? Besides killing your ex, I mean.” There was a long pause in the conversation, like Elsie had just uttered some unmentionable word. Lauren frowned. “Well, quite frankly, miss, that’s none of your business. Personal questions like that are liable to get your tail-end beat for obvious reasons.” “You don’t have to answer,” Elsie said, ignoring the obvious threat by taking another sip of her sake, an action she immediately regretted. Still, she focused on keeping a straight face until she swallowed before continuing. “You seemed pretty open about killing someone, I thought gossip about pranks was on the table, that’s all. Like, when I was young I crawled inside a cauldron and rolled down a hill in it. Silly things like that.” Corbin chimed in. “You’re going to have to forgive her,” he said. “She’s always like this.” Elsie stuck her tongue out at Corbin before returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Anyway, a little birdie told us there are monsters about, that’s why we’re interested in what you’ve heard.” She gave Lucine a playful nudge with her elbow. “Tell her, Lucine.”

The light from Estellise’s spell reminded Chris of a moment when he was really young. He had been roaming the halls of Ellwood Manor, as he had been wont to do, without a care in the world, zipping from point to point as he pleased when, in a moment of lost concentration, he tripped and fell head-over-heels all the way down the main staircase. It was his mother who found him lying in a heap at the bottom, and it was she who wiped the snot and tears from his face using cloth from her own dress, and who picked him up and carried him off to the kitchen to get something to lift his spirits. But it was just a feeling, and it faded quickly. There was a paradoxical stillness to the dungeon, now that the kobolds had been dealt with. Sure, the ceiling was twisting and the walls were bending, but the feeling overall was one of rest. The stairs were right there, but now was the time to catch a breath, collect the weaponry that had been thrown around -- daggers, axes, whatever -- and reconvene. “Okay, one more floor and then I think someone said there is a portal on the fifth?” Chris said. “How are we feeling? I’m okay after this break, maybe, uh, probably, but I’m a little worried about getting in another fight like that one. Not like we can go up, there are a dozen or so goblins waiting for us that way.” His canteen had mercifully survived the brawl. Chris took a swig and passed it on. “Water?”