Follow TV Tropes
Cole took the opportunity to put his hat back on, pulling himself up a bit more to squint at the food on the buffet, before dropping back to flat foot on the ground. "...people are going to be too tiny to get up here on their own today...we need to fix that. ...um...I guess...I need to fix that, since you're...tiny...too, uh..."
He turned, looking around the buffet a moment, looking as though he were puzzling this over. "If I had rocks I could stack them up, or...some dirt..."
Cole ran over towards the nearest table, taking hold of one of the chairs, then starting to pull it back with him, grunting a little at the effort, getting the chair pushed over next to the buffet Arcade was on, stopping a moment to look at it, grimaced a little.
"...this might still be too hard to climb. ...this might be tougher than I thought..."
"Well, that isn't nice of him." The paladin lightly complained, but shrugged at the marine. So they were there just because they might have some uses around here. Makes sense to him.
"Hey lady, you're one heck of a mage. Did you summon all of this yourself?" Then, she began typing on something before her eyes flashed green, looked at the man in blue before answering him. "Ehh, you can read minds too?" Then, he turned to Caboose, inspecting him from up and down. "Well, if you were a tiny bit smaller, you might look like a toy. But if she says that you aren't, then I guess you're not."
Then suddenly, he remembered that he came here for a reason.
"Oh right. Which reminds me, I'm here at the library to...?" Wait, why was he here at the library again? He couldn't quite tell. Was it something to do with the City? Or...
"... Ah, umm. Hey Vambre, why were we here again?" he asked the warrior with him, genuinely forgetting why they were there in the first place.
edited 15th Aug '17 12:38:05 AM by JustSomeGuy732
"Why, we're here to gather information, read up on the noble Mr. Grinch's riveting tale of how he got his holiday spirits, and to gather all the Veronica Victorious novels of course!" Clenching her fist while eyeing the various little toy figures with an appraising gaze, the purple-haired woman gave the pink-haired boy a pat on his back.
"You're ever so silly just like my younger brother Prohyas. If I had a jemm for every time I sent him off to do the groceries only to find out that he came back with a new pet, I'd be able to fill up a swimming pool!" Sighing a bit forlornly that she didn't have her goofier half to play off of at the moment, the adventuress made with the similarly spacy Astolfo.
"The only thing you should feel when you shoot someone... is the recoil" the marine responded to Astolfo.
"You should pardon their speech; their vocabulary is limited to certain stock phrases. And I didn't make them; my boss did. I'm just commanding them" Miss Tairee said, shrugging slightly as she checked something on her holographic screen. "And I didn't read his mind either. I just gave myself true sight..." the librarian looked over at Astolfo with her glowing green eyes, and raised one eyebrow in a slightly incredulous look before adding, "... sir."
Miss Tairee tapped a button on the holographic screen and her eyes blurred before returning to normal. Then she turned her attention to Vambre and raised both eyebrows slightly. "Ah, another person actually asking for books? Well how about that" Miss Tairee thought aloud as she started typing on the holographic screen again. "Just give me a minute..." the librarian muttered, then a bit later, there was a blur on the floor nearby and a stack of proportionally sized books appeared. First there was How The Grinch Stole Christmas!, but along with it was every single Veronica Victorious novel.
"Will you be needing anything else?" Miss Tairee then asked the two.
edited 15th Aug '17 1:34:27 AM by FirockFinion
Eve|Mindscape|Yeah, Rex, You Are Literally Talking To A Serial Killer
Eve looked at Rex as he made his deeply shocking statement about a mistake in his past.... and didn't really care, rather more impressed that he actually managed to admit he can make a mistake. "...and? We've all made mistakes," she replied, taking her shield form while she did so. The large, steel, circular shield appeared as she put her hands together, and she brought it down, bracing it against the ground.
The rather puny sound that Resentment's fist made as it collided with the shield almost made her laugh. "...we'll see." Was her response to his threat, and she shrugged. All the Guilts except one were dead, which was good. She could die now. She looked at Resentment and shrugged. "...and you will have managed to kill the expendable one. The one who never met Silenea, so she has no chance to get through to her. Well done. Well done. All you will have achieved is doing exactly what I wanted you to, while your allies fall around you." she responded calmly, if quietly, almost too calmly. She did some brief arithmetic in her head. "..Tester, I'd like to boost Defence again."
Arcade was halfway finished with his meal when he noticed Cole's attempts to help people. It was a nice thought, trying to help everyone get up to the food.
"Maybe you can make something out of the food," he suggested.
Caboose let out an audible sigh of relief when he was told that he was a perfectly normal human. You might not think such a fear was grounded in reality, but it wouldn't be the first time someone he knew turned out to be an artificial being... not that it made being a toy any more likely, but clearly robots and toys were similar based on her struggling to decide between the terms earlier. "OH, Thank you! What's your name! And you too Mr. Pink" Caboose said to Ms. Tairee and Astolfo.
Oddly enough, Caboose actually comprehended the point that was throwing Ms. Tairee off about the pink haired fellow. "You couldn't tell?" he said with a bit of surprise evident.
edited 15th Aug '17 4:55:01 AM by pillowmantis
"Right, right! Ahaha, thanks for clearing that up! And yep, you really shouldn't trust me to remember stuff. I have quite a reputation for being forgetful, you know~" Astolfo replied cheerfully, taking what Vambre said as a compliment. "And your brother sounds fun! Maybe you can introduce me to him when he's here."
The marine that he just left replied back to him, to which the paladin answered "Huh? Oh, all right. Not sure why you're telling me this, but thanks!"
He then turned towards Miss Tairee. "Ahh, so you're like an apprentice to your boss? He sounds like a powerful guy, creating all these toys.'' He then looked around, but noticed no one here seems to fit the description of a very powerful magus. "Can't say I seem to recognize him anywhere though. Where the heck is he?"
Then, the blue-armored man started asking for his name, where he happily obliges. "Glad you asked! My name is Astolfo, one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne! Nice to meet ya!" He smiled at the end of his introduction. "And who might you be, Mr Blue?"
Afterwards he started talking to Miss Tairee about something, where the young paladin replied to the both of them with a simple "Hmm? Tell what?"
edited 15th Aug '17 6:00:51 AM by JustSomeGuy732
"Use the food?" Cole made a face at that, shaking his head. "You aren't supposed to build things out of food. People might try to eat it anyway and then it would be ruined. ...If I had a...a board, or...something flat that I could...angle..."
He looked around again, looking over at the table he'd just taken the chair from, and tugged at it a couple times, wincing at the effort, even as the table didn't so much as budge. "...that's too heavy. I could have done this when I was still bigger. Maybe there's something else that I could stack up like stairs...if the library was closer, a bunch of books would be perfect, you could stack them like bricks."
Cole folded his arms, still scanning around the room, thinking it all over. His eyes fell on a nearby container of silverware, and he squinted at it a moment, looking as though he were working something out.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Arcade said distractedly. There was no point to only eating one type of food, he reasoned, so he tried to find something else to try.
As he wandered the connected counters he stopped in front of an assortment of jars with pumps on the top. The closest one to him read 'mustard'. It didn't look like food itself, perhaps it went on top of something?
Nearby was a plate of something he could not recognize. It was a circle; the outer layer was green, then white, then a few colors. With a shrug Arcade grabbed one and carefully squirted some mustard on it. With his next meal finished he sat down on the edge and watched Cole work on making the ramp.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!~" Sounding out what could only be a high pitch of pure unadulterated 'squee' at seeing both the story of how the 'Grinch Stole Christmas' and the various Veronica Victorious novels (some of which she hadn't even seen yet due to not being out in her home reality), the purple haired woman immediately jumped towards the stacks of of books with a rather excited possession◊ before hugging it possessively. All in all, she looked less like a proper lady and more like a kid jumping at toys. "I think I'm good for now, love."
Cole made what could only be called a disgruntled sound, wandering around a bit, looking for any supplies he might use to make something. He finally looked towards the bathrooms in the center, as though abruptly aware there were doors. He tilted his head, then started towards those doors, pushing one open with a bit of effort and going inside.
After a brief moment, the door struggled back open, and a couple rolls of toilet paper were chucked out, with Cole managing to squirm through the door, practically beaming. "These can work! They're like a thin cloth, I bet I can put them together into rope!"
Garrett could just sit by and let the Riddler get pummeled, but that wouldn't be too nice, would it? Might be worth staying on his good side, for those twelve or so days left here.
"Whatever you think about us," he said to Makoto, "we might be useful for today, no? There's probably all kind of lowlife in the city... and in general, people who are allergic to lawmen for one reason or another... who wouldn't lift a finger to help in today's challenge, unless ordered to by the boss who'll provide them with a group to fit in with. However, you'll have to excuse us if we'd rather operate independently today... for one, I am kind of averse to 'authorities' of any kind, and besides I'm at my best when I'm left to my own devices instead of having to answer to the likes of Wells."
And so he talked and talked on... in the meanwhile, his hand was drifting towards his bow.
Arcade stared at the toilet paper Cole had tossed out of the bathrooms in confusion as he continued to eat. Though he stopped when he saw how proud Cole was.
Returning the smile he said, "I bet people will be really happy that they can get something to eat. Do you know how to bind rope?" That was a rather specific skill for Cole to have picked up, but it wasn't out of the question.
Rex managed to miss that same Guilt for the third time in a row, at this point it was clear that the dice just didn't want him to do it.
"ok, change of plans, rex, you go after the fake, i'll deal with this one," said Sans, sighing and then looking at Tester, "bone attack at the guilt."
Then he took the opportunity to address what friendship had told him, it was a point that he could recognize, although he still felt that it was a little unfair.
"i've been trying to help. i saved people in that zombie day, i helped save the hostages in that grocery store even though i couldn't help you in time, i helped fight off the ruckus at the balconies in that ocean day and even called as many people as i could for backup, including you guys. just because i don't make myself visible, doesn't mean that i'm not contributing..." said Sans, then taking a deep breath, "... but i get it. i really wanted to help you with what you were going through, but instead of trying to fix the problem, i was just trying to minimize the damage. things like a party and watching a movie, it can barely be called a compensation and i thought that it would be enough. i'm not very good at helping to deal with issues like that, i didn't even really sort my own, but i'm still sorry. i wanted to be a friend but i wasn't doing a very good at it, but i will make up for it, no matter how many tries it takes."
"Yes, Iron Bull showed me how to make rope. ...Dorian yelled at him for it though. I never understood why. You just get the cloth, and you wind it together, and you tie it off..."
Cole wandered over to plop down and sit on the floor next to the buffet Arcade was on, starting to unwind the toilet paper, looking at the chair he had already dragged over. "...I can set up the rope with the chairs! Then people don't have to climb straight up, they can just use it to help them climb these so they have support all the way! At least until someone bigger can make something better, maybe. ...or I can find a wood plank, or something I could stack up."
He started winding and braiding, tongue sticking out in concentration, then looked up at Arcade, looking a little sheepish. "I...sorry, we...were looking for the hospital. I...sorry. I just...I'll finish this, and...maybe use another chair to prop open the doors? Those doors are hard to open even for me...then we can go, I'll move as quick as I can...what are you eating?"
Arcade stared at Cole in bewilderment. The kid was talking very fast and on a lot of different subjects. Apparently he knew someone named Iron Bull which was just... What?
When Cole addressed him more directly Arcade swallowed and shook his head. "We were both distracted," he said, "it's fine."
He glanced down at his meal when Cole asked about it. "I have no idea," he confessed, "well, the yellow stuff is mustard, but what I put it on? I can't tell you. It's still better than anything I've ever eaten from the Wasteland."
edited 15th Aug '17 1:44:38 PM by Skooter910
"You know, Rex, that story doesn't sound very comforting. I hope you're skipping the part where you made up with them because we're busy fighting!" Curly told the teen before the turn started. And with the enraged guilt brought down she called out in triumph "That's what you get for hurting my friend!"
Curly took a moment to consider her options before speaking up again "Charge Spur. Tester, is it possible to target that Plaything of the Universe with our actions?"
Cole carefully tied off a bit of the "rope", apparently understanding he had to take care with this "thin cloth", and got to his feet, pushing the chair over to where Arcade was, climbing onto the chair and looking at the...whatever it was he was eating.
"Mustard? ...I think Sera eats that. It's usually brown. These...look kind of like...rice? It's...rice that sticks together in the pot, but it's wrapped around and with..."
He made a face, thinking it over, before abruptly reaching out, picking up one of the round pieces, and immediately popping it into his mouth, starting to chew. After a few seconds, his face wrinkled in obvious displeasure, but with another couple of quick chews, he gulped it down, all but gagging on it as he did so.
"I...I don't...I don't think I like that..." he said, wiping at his mouth on his sleeve. "Ew...now I have to feel it go down...monster food is better..."
"Rice?" Arcade repeated, "that's what this is? I don't think it survived the war— like most things. I still prefer ice cream. Maybe when Eve wakes up we can get some here." He nodded at this and finished off what he was eating.
As he licked his fingers clean, Cole climbed up the counter to get some for himself. Arcade laughed gently when Cole showed his displeasure. "I'm sure you'll find something you like eventually," he said, "and if it helps, think about how much better you'll feel when well-fed. The food you feel moving in your body is going to help you grow and keep you energized."
edited 15th Aug '17 4:07:20 PM by Skooter910
Ben furrowed his brow, continuing to follow the gremlin and crossing his arms as he walked.
"Tell her what? What kinda secret could possibly mean you need to break her heart to hide it from her?" Ben asked incredulously. "You're hurting her, Fastanook. She was crying when I saw her. Do you really wanna make her cry? If not, then tell us what's going on!" Ben insisted.
Yuna Yuki (Library) - Yuki Yuna is a Captive
Yuna listened to the abnormally large kid speak. Curiously at first, because what he was saying was a bit odd, but that curiosity changed quickly into a form of amazement once she looked around at the congregation of people below after the word "hero" was uttered, and the realization of what was being said started to sink in. But it was only when she started reading the pamphlet, after the kid had already left, that she was able to fully comprehend what was going on.
"This... this is... this is..." she muttered, with her face buried deep into the pamphlet she was shakily holding. "This is... this is so exciting!
The mere prospect of being in such a place, with all kinds of interesting people really brought a smile to the girl's face. She also proceeded to roll on Gyuki's head for several seconds, but that was a much more subdued reaction because she didn't really want to upset the faery.
"Say, are we really here for inspiration?" she asked once she was done hyping herself over the news. "Inspiration for what? Wait, or is he evil? Are we here just because the guy that put us here is evil? Or both? Is he evil and looking for inspiration?"
"Such a perfidiously profane mouth..." the Riddler clucked his tongue at Makoto's language.
"Perhaps profanity makes your threats seem more real to yourself?" The Riddler giggled. "You're outnumbered here and are fighting for something that will ultimately harm you and the city. My plans are to conquer, not to harm others. Listen to my colleague and walk away."
That was the Riddler's final warning and he raised his pistol again at Makoto's repeated belligerence. He also drew his Riddler-wax with his other arm.
"Oh, fuck me." Rick grumbled as the latest round of combat failed to generate any meaningful results for the third time. "Isn't there like - some kind of - 'speed this up spell' or something?" Rick closed his eyes and dragged his hands across his face in frustration, imagining repeatedly taking a very large axe to Tester's central memory banks .
"I shoot him. Again."
"HeeeeAAAAAAAAGH!" Morty screamed a raw scream of primal fury as he drove his improvised sword - forged from a sewing needle, some surgical stitches, and a splintered tongue depressor - into the eye of yet another huge ant, pincers clacking horribly as it reeled from the injury.
Adrenaline surging, Morty swung his sword wildly again and neatly skewered two more of the ants, driving htem back into the stygian darkness from whence they had came. The soft clicking and clacking of chitin on chitin in the distance reminded him that the ants were probably on the march again - waiting for him to fall into a trap. (Did ants make traps? Should have looked that up when he had the chance.)
The hospital was a very different place when you were only five inches tall. For one thing, you quickly began to develop a keen awareness of just how many insects and creepy-crawlies called even the most sterile places home... and how vicious they could be.
A quick detour into a musty supply closet had turned lethal when Morty had decided to poke his head into a small cranny just beneath a mop - and found himself promptly seized by a pair of heavy pincers, dragged down into a lightless warren of tunnels.
Fighting the Tyrannosaurus, the dinosaurs, the various sea monsters - there was a certain intellect behind the teeth and fangs that you could respect or at least fear. Insects of all shapes and sizes seemed... there was an impersonality behind their mindless aggression, the simple protein switches of a tiny mind flicking on and off in sequential order. Morty had stabbed and slashed his way through several dozen ants now, and he was convinced that he probably smelled awful and looked like a character from a bad Hollywood movie, splattered with insect gore like some kind of tiny Rambo.
Breathing heavily, Morty wiped the clear liquid off his improvised sword and held it out in front of him as he crept through the tunnels. Think... think... what did you know about ants...
The odd slat of light, a byproduct from the constant excavation efforts that were no doubt going on throughout the colony, provided the only faint twinges of illumination down into... wherever he was.
"Okay, uh... ants build... tunnels. T-to get food. If I just keep following this tunnel... uh, maybe I'll come out. Somewhere." And probably get murdered by something else, added his subconscious unhelpfully.
"Shut up." Morty was vaguely worried that talking to yourself in the middle of a life-or-death situation might be the onset of something serious, but maybe if he humored it then it would go away.
You were shit in the mindscape, it continued as Morty lay there in the grim, muddy gloom and sized up his options. Everyone else had a power and you just sat there. Contributing nothing. You didn't even understand the basics of the game.
"This isn't the time." he mumbled to himself, which also probably didn't look great to anyone else watching him - fortunately, ants weren't particularly big on passing judgement. Okay, okay, ignore the voice, and... Morty was pretty sure that he wasn't in the hospital anymore, at least; the ant that had abducted him had carried him along for a good while before Morty had finally managed to stab it to death and wriggle free from its grip.
Something caught the corner of his eye; flattening himself against the damp wall, Morty watched in vague fascination as a pair of worker ants trundled past him like a pair of trucks on the freeway, scarcely giving him a thought as they clenched boulders of dirt in their mandibles. Clearly, Morty surmised, they were industriously scooping out tunnels to accommodate their newly increased bulk.
Remember Jackson? Jackson killed you back there because you failed your dice roll. I bet that'll really make your next interaction with him go super well.
"Oh my god, I just got out of a horrific mental experience where people made fun of my shortcomings, I'm probably going to get eaten by ants, shut up... me..."
"Okay." he mumbled to himself, trying to steel himself in the claustrophobic confines for what came next. "I came... uh... that way... so, uh, hm." Morty stared at the forked tunnel ahead. "... this way?" It really wasn't an educated guess so much as a shot in the dark, but - why not? If nothing else, thought Morty as he inched his way through the sticky confines of the ant colony, there was, quite literally, a light at the end of the tunnel.
Two minutes later, Morty sincerely regretted trusting folksy old aphorisms.
The sight that loomed before him was as grotesque as it was vaguely fascinating. The ants had clearly been enjoying a normal ant-like existence in the hours before they had been massively upsized - without the cramped earthen warrens shifting to accommodate this. The chamber that Morty had stumbled into, insomuch as it could be called a "chamber" was more of a bowl-shaped depression in the earth, littered with the popped bodies of ants that had obviously been crushed against their fellows as the entire colony grew.
It looked, Morty realized with a vague pang of horror, a bit like the primordial mental battlescape where he had unceremoniously perished in not long ago. More memories rushed back; the Guilts, the giant Sans and Jackson presiding over it all like some kind of twisted judge, jury and executioner, the mad flurry of dice being rolled, the...
So what do you think everyone else is doing back in Silaena's head? burbled his mind smugly to itself. Somehow you managed to wind up with a team that probably couldn't cross the street without wanting to murder one another, and you trusted them to do delicate psychotherapy on a trauma survivor? Your grandpa is probably getting totally shitfaced and being useless right now, just like that time with the Vindicators...
Vaguely reminiscent of the crater it might have been, but looming in the very middle of the chamber like some kind of grossly oversized Goodyear blimp, was something almost as horrible. Useless little legs wriggling, antenna flailing wildly, the queen of this cavalcade of horrors presided over her kingdom. What attendants there were gingerly scooped up slimy eggs in their mandibles and spirited them away down random tunnels.
"Shut up!" he grumbled at nobody in particular.
It was hard to describe all the emotions Morty was feeling at the moment - clear revulsion at the sight of what could only be described as some kind of horrific, Kardashian-like birthing machine given a physical body it was never meant to have, a vague sense of pity for the same... but what he was mostly feeling was fear, as a pair of looming soldier ants, drawn by his cries sensed his presence and closed in on him. No, no, no, that wasn't right. He was feeling fear and... something else. Something that made his blood boil.
Bro. What are you doing? Bro, whatever you're doing, don't do it. We're in this together... I'm your subconscious. You do something dumb, we both die. Remember back on day 13 when you got that chainsaw?
"Shutupshutupshutupshutup..." Morty trailed off, and then fixed the two soldier ants with a slightly glassy-eyed glare, the glare of two hours of cumulative frustration and anger given physicality. "YOU WANT THIS?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing his sword. "I CAST... SPELL OF FUCK YOU!"
It was a testament to years of adventures spent with Rick that Morty didn't even hesitate at what he had to do next - holding his sword out like a lancer about to charge, he vaulted towards the first ant, screaming a wild war cry, feeling an egg explode like a wet water balloon beneath his feet. A wild, improvised thrust caught the first soldier ant entirely off-guard, sending it sprawling and flailing wildly as Morty lodged the needle into its neck and pushed. It was probably a good thing that there were no dice being rolled here, at any rate. "ROLL TO DODGE, MOTHERFUCKER!"
"YOU LIKE THAT?" he screamed, aiming a wild kick at its wounded abdomen. "YOU WANT ME TO ROLL YOUR DICE FOR YOU?!" Morty threw his sword and lodged it firmly in the head of a third ant drawn in by the chaos. "YOU FAIL YOUR SAVING THROW!"
Amid the chaos of a lone pubescent boy fighting against a pair of soldier ants, it was somehow a testament to 80 million years of evolution that life continued apace around the mad melee; nurse ants simply veering around the frenzied combat, the queen impassively twitching as mighty biological imperatives raged within her tiny brain.
"I CAST... RETRIEVE SWORD!" Morty sprinted over to the dead ant, bounding over a nursemaid carrying a squirming larvae, and retrieved his weapon. "NOW I... SUMMON... GNOME!" Morty leapt over towards the last of the soldier ants, parrying a blow from their mandibles with his sword, and then bouncing backwards, panting heavily - onto something unstable and alive.
Flick. Flick. A pair of transparent, fairy-like wings snapped to attention as Morty was thrown violently off his feet. Beating the air, the winged ant, clearly alarmed, flapped up and around the battleground, up towards the light...
... Morty had flown before, of course, lots of times. A little more than two weeks ago, he'd been taken on a madcap ride aboard a dead insect puppeteered back to life by way of electro-conductivity. That was the closest thing that he could compare to his current predicament; the winged ant jerked this way and that as it frantically tried to disgorge him, hairy legs kicking madly as they ascended through the hastily renovated tunnels. Morty caught quick flashes of life around him - ants industriously tunnelling, ants carrying away the dead bodies of their colony mates, and above him the crack was growing brighter and broader and -
Morty erupted through a crack in the pavement astride a delicate-looking winged ant that looked... well, angry, as angry as a fairly blank and immobile arthropod was capable of getting anyway. It rolled in the air and managed to dislodge Morty, who collapsed to the pavement - but not before stabbing the thing through the chest with his improvised sword, screaming in a mixture of terror and rage as he did so.
Morty tumbled to the asphalt... followed seconds later by the ant, its delicate body collapsing behind him, wings futilely twitching in the air. Morty glared at the vanquished insect, then, in a sudden move, yanked the twitching bug's head off, glaring down at its blank face. Morty looked like a man who had seen and done far too much in too short a period of time; he was tired, dirty, dishevelled, his clothes smeared with miscellaneous insect viscera, and holding the disembodied head of an ant in a scene right out of Pixar's version of Braveheart.
With his free hand, Morty screamed in rage as he stabbed the ant again... and again.. and again...
"YOU FAIL YOUR ROLL! YOU FAIL ALL YOUR ROLLS! I'M NEVER...." Morty, having finally found an outlet for his myriad frustrations, gleefully laid into the ant's body for a few glorious minutes before sagging under the weight of his own overexertion as his overtaxed body cashed its physical and mental cheques.
"... I'm... never... playing D&D again..."
edited 15th Aug '17 6:22:35 PM by Locoman
Resentment stared at Eve for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "expendable, huh? so what you're saying is, i shouldn't bother with you..." Resentment trailed off, and glanced towards the others. "maybe instead, the guy trying to prove his friendship?" the faux skeleton asked rhetorically, pointing his arm at Sans.
"or perhaps, the guy who made this all possible..." Resentment continued, and pointed his arm at Rex. Resentment's eyes narrowed a bit further, and there was a hostile glint to them. "... no, no i've got it. her friend; the only person she really sees as a true friend right now. i take out her, and this little chump's done for; i might even level up again" the faux skeleton decided, and pointed his arm at Curly.
Friendship was looking towards Sans, listening, but said nothing after he finished. Instead glancing down and looking a bit guilty. At his feet though, Trust tapped San's ankle. "It was helping, but, the root of it all is buried deep" Trust told Sans, motioning down at the crevice in the landscape nearby; down to the fires below that. "What happened with you on that competition day, it put Friendship in that cage. It nearly destroyed her outright; that's why you're Silanea's symbol of resentment. Sh-, she knows that, you're not really responsible for it, but that doesn't change the way she feels about it" the mental figment explained, in an apologetic tone.
Meanwhile, Tester's floating around changed course slightly and he brought himself closer towards Curly. "Negative, you cannot target that. And your spur charge is a free action; what will your primary action be?" Tester mentioned to Curly. "You can still do anything besides attacking" the AI added.
Towards Rick, Tester then commented, "the Guilts are Female; as much as mental constructs can have a gender."
"I couldn't, but it's not like it matters" the Miss Tairee down in the base responded to Caboose simply with a quick shrug, before returning her attention to Astolfo. "My boss isn't here; not in that sense, anyway. He is observing what's going on, and he could directly interact with you if he chose to, but right now I doubt he will. You can send him a message via our suggestion box, up on the desk; though he probably won't respond for two days" the librarian told the paladin.
Up in the air, the Miss Tairee on the medivac had waited patiently, working on her holographic screen, until Yuna had finished reading and asked her questions. "Inspiration for his latest projects, which is all I can really tell you about that for now. As for whether he's evil, I know some people would certainly say he is, but I would not say he's fully evil, no; he certainly doesn't have a normal moral compass though. The whole concepts of good and evil don't quite apply to him; not in any black and white sense, that's for certain" Miss Tairee explained in response.
"Try stacking the plates!" a Male voice suggested, hollering over from one of the other food counters. It was Bergree, who had simply walked himself up the side of it and was currently making himself a dish of bits of fruit and meats collected in a bowl-shaped chip meant for dipping.
"I don't want to make her cry!" Fastanook snapped, his tone defensive and a bit angry. He took a moment to take a breath and try to collect himself. "It's the kind of secret that could have repercussions that can't be anticipated. I mean, what would you do if someone you know comes from your past shows up here, huh?" the gremlin asked, his tone accusatory and only a little bit less hostile; he had not been very successful in calming himself down.
edited 15th Aug '17 6:41:45 PM by FirockFinion
Community Showcase More
How well does it match the trope?