Home 24: A house in this market?

[Earl of Purple]

Aran's Condo

"I don't know! It's not my machine." Ursa does run over and try to smash it, however. Smashing a hand that grows into a large, leaf-covered paw with heavy claws sparkling like moonlight into the device, trying to break it.

[Deathkeeper]

[Aran's Condo]

The machine erupts into sparks as it's struck, gulping down one last pull of Ursagridd's power as he directly touches it. It clatters to the ground, finally inert.

Aran gives a heavy groan as his explosive growth suffers one last burst before slowing and finally stopping. Though by that point it's too late for his clothes, which have finally torn or popped off him.
"Well...that was eventful. How do I look?" Aran asks shakily, rather terrified, and trying desperately to comprehend what happened. Aran hasn't suffered anything too jarring; he hasn't grown claws or extra legs or wings. But he has gone from tall and thin to tall and wide, with a build extremely similar to Ursagridd's, and just as much hair. Even then, he looks like himself, just bigger. And Ursagridd probably knew that this would happen eventually anyway, as what happens with witches. This is just...faster than it normally is.

[Earl of Purple]

Aran's Condo

"You look like you, just... Bigger, and hairier. It's not so bad, really. I guess you'd need new clothes, though. I don't think anything you've already got will fit." I think Aran's found that out already, though.

Good thing they were going to look for new clothes for Ursagridd, really. Seems Aran will need some, too.

[UncleWolf]

[Underside]

"It is nice to be appreciated," says a... very small lady archivist with broad ears. "People just come here to get their new kids chiselled into the stone, or mark a marriage between two families, or to argue if their famous ancestor was really theirs."

"Bringing alcohol into the archives is highly irregular."

"Oh, don't get hung up on that. This isn't our alcohol, it's from a different culture. Do you want us to be snobs and disrespect his customs?"

"Let's have a taste before we start arguing, shall we? It's not like you and the other curmudgeons have much of a leg to stand on after we wrote little... uh..."

"Tuskfang."

"Tuskfang, yes, into the archive. Unless you want to argue about the shape of their faces."

"That kid at least mostly looked like a goblin..." the reluctant archivist grumbles, but he seems to realize he's outnumbered and disadvantaged by the offer of alcohol.

An archivist in a simpler robe approaches Cheasadh, Brinika and their parents, a piece of paper in hand.

"So, uh... while that is going on, I'm going to need you to state affirmatively and declaratively that you want to enter the family of Rapnuk Sneergrim-Quartzcrush-Trollfinger-Hacknee-Rocksprout and Tralka Trollfingter-Mossdeep-Sneergrim-Rubynose-Deepstep." He scratches his ear. "And I'm told that the precedent is to incorporate the naming traditions of a non-goblin entering a goblin family on a case-by-case basis, so I hope the higher-ups don't get drunk too quickly, because I need them for that."

Underside

"Yes, I do. Is there any words I need to use, or does it not matter?" It's quite a lot of names the two have, more than Cheasadh had realised. In gnome society, it'd be quite impressive, a total of seven names each. That level of mutual length is pretty rare in gnomes; the nature of 'achievement names' means that usually one parent has one or two more than the other. Gnome rulers might be different, though- the difference between names and titles is pretty slim.

Incorporating gnome traditions might not be a great idea, as it would leave Cheasadh coming back down here in the future for amendments and additions.

Underside

Pathfinder peers over at the archivists as they debate whether or not to drink and does a bit of crude "math" in his head. "...I would venture that you have perhaps a half hour of usefulness out of them before they get too inebriated beyond the point of no return." The Wolfen suggests. Only the slightest of wags of his tail and a quirk of his ears betrays just how amused he is by the entire situation. The Wolfen mead looked like it would be far more popular than he had anticipated.

As the archivist works with Cheasadh, the Wolfen kneels down next to his beloved to whisper to her. "Remind me next time to bring a bit more. Or at the very least ship out more with someone else. If it is as popular as it looks, we could end up funding GLoG by ourselves on that."

[CosmicHobbit]

Or an idea he's had the whole time.
"The assigner of tasks hasn't been here for a while." The puppet explains apologetically.
"And besides, tasks are full of motivation."
It remains in front of the closed door.

Oliver is pretty frustrated, but sighs in defeat. "I'll go do more research on you guys, and if I agree with what you stand for I'll come back." He becomes to walk off back in the direction he came.

[Arkhosia]

Sagittarius Towers - Night

It takes a moment for Cantata to grasp Fettina's meaning before giggling and answering with a thumbs-up. You say that like you don't want to see me in a too-tight shirt. She looks back down to her dress again, sighing. God, this was one of my favorites too.

[Recaiden]

Oliver is pretty frustrated, but sighs in defeat. "I'll go do more research on you guys, and if I agree with what you stand for I'll come back." He becomes to walk off back in the direction he came.

That's a good sign. He could have been more stubborn, but he should learn something.
"Have an informative day." The puppet bids him goodbye.

Nothing stops Oliver on the way out, although at the next hallway intersection he might get the faint sense (a disturbance in the air? A distant sound?) that someone else just came through here.

As for learning what they stand for, there are a few obvious routes:
Talking to the same person who gave him the map here.
Grilling the detective for more context.
Finding a cartel member outside their HQ.

Plus whatever else the former (and possibly future) Offender can come up with.

[CosmicHobbit]

That's a good sign. He could have been more stubborn, but he should learn something.
"Have an informative day." The puppet bids him goodbye.

Nothing stops Oliver on the way out, although at the next hallway intersection he might get the faint sense (a disturbance in the air? A distant sound?) that someone else just came through here.

As for learning what they stand for, there are a few obvious routes:
Talking to the same person who gave him the map here.
Grilling the detective for more context.
Finding a cartel member outside their HQ.

Plus whatever else the former (and possibly future) Offender can come up with.

Oliver doesn't actually plan on learning anything, instead, once he's out of sight, he veers off toward the shattered bridge, and begins inspecting it to see if it would be possible for him to get in this way, without judgmental puppets.

[Morty]

[Underside]

"No, all I needed was to hear it from you," the archivist tells Cheasadh. "Just sign here... oh boy." He turns to look at the older archivists as they sample the mead and argue about its qualities. "Well, there's someone in the engraving room who's still sober, so maybe let's just get there quick."

Reelshka, meanwhile, grins.

"That's something I had no idea I needed to see. This bunch need to loosen up. I'm convinced they'd turn to dust like vampires if they ever got into direct sunlight."

The small female archivist will approach the two families, her ears perking up and looking a little buzzed.

"Go on down to the engraving room. You all know the drill by now."

"We do," Rapnuk says before putting a hand on Cheasadh's shoulder. "Let's go get your name written into a big slab of rock next to ours. Because that's just how we goblins do things," he adds with a wink.

The one sober archivist leads the entire group down a spiralling corridor, into a great, dark cave filled with machinery. Goblins are seated in chairs, operating levers and pulleys that move large stone slabs, covered in goblin runic scripts, sometimes drilling new words into them. A squat, toad-like old goblin in an archivist robe and a pair of heavy goggles is supervising all this and turns to meet the families when they enter. Unlike most goblins, he has a patchy beard.

"Oh, it's you again, Mrs. Trollfinger. And family. What's going on up there? Did you get my fellow archivists drunk so they won't complain?"

[Earl of Purple]

Underside

Cheasadh signs her name when bid- Cheasadh Dathrii Trollfinger, though she's not sure if that last bit should technically be there yet or not- and smiles at the archivist with the big ears.

When they arrive at the slab room, her eyes grow really wide and she looks around in complete and utter astonishment. It's absolutely incredible; a genealogist could trace a family back for... Probably forever, and never once leave for air. Gnomes aren't quite as fond of genealogy as some, but they do like collecting names, and their naming customs mean family record-keeping is quite important. "This place is incredible."

[Deathkeeper]

[Aran’s Condo]

Aran seems actually a bit dejected by the tepid response.
”Oh. I thought you’d be...happier.” he says, now self-consciously shaking his middle with new and improved hairy mitts.
Ursa might need to be more delicate.

[Earl of Purple]

Aran's Condo

"Of course I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be happy? You look great. But I wasn't sure how you'd take it, and... I'm not really good at this." He does grin and look Aran up and down with the first bit. "It's faster than usual, but I'd say you're absolutely fantastic." He nods, and will go over to give his witch a hug.

[Recaiden]

Oliver doesn't actually plan on learning anything, instead, once he's out of sight, he veers off toward the shattered bridge, and begins inspecting it to see if it would be possible for him to get in this way, without judgmental puppets.

Deception in pursuit of his goals!
An excellent sign if you ask the puppet.

The super-hard plastic that once surrounded this entrance is broken in big smooth pieces, the effect of impacting the ground at such a speed and angle as it did. Was there a struggle here at one point? Possibly. Btu it was a long time ago.
A torn-in-half door leads into another slanted hallway.
Taking a right, a left, and a right should get him past the puppet-guarded door to a cavernous room with a heap of rubble and broken furniture at the bottom. On the far side of the room, one might hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
Maybe they'll just walk past? Maybe he'd better hide?

[UncleWolf]

Underside

Pathfinder snickers a bit. "Well, at least if they crumbled into dust it'd have to be someone else's problem rather than our own, but I would feel sorry for whomever had to replace the bunch. Seeing as how convoluted some of this bureaucracy is, I would half suspect it to be us who would be given that burden somehow."

His ears flick a bit when the new archivist mentions what happened. "Just a bit, though I would argue it is less about them complaining and more of...allowing those who work hard to work in peace without excessive meddling or disturbance. There should be more than plenty left for a few extras however." He points out, scratching his muzzle in amused thought.

[Murkus]

Sagittarius Towers - Night

It takes a moment for Cantata to grasp Fettina's meaning before giggling and answering with a thumbs-up. You say that like you don't want to see me in a too-tight shirt. She looks back down to her dress again, sighing. God, this was one of my favorites too.

[Sagittarius Towers - Night]

At that, Fettina just flashes her newest gal-pal a wink. And in answer to the latter statement... "If you let me keep it a little while, I can order a replicant fabric and have one of my gadgets sow it up like nothing happened. Trust me, I've been around that block a few times."

She gets up to fetch Cantata a... frankly gigantic shirt, one that will travel nearly down to her knees. The baggy thing reads 'CALL ME DADDY' in bold on the front. Tina displays no shame whatsoever. "Here, get cozy."

[[Sagittarius Roof]

Fettina wishes she had the time to react to all of... that. The sudden, terrifying, terrific feelings for Nora. The resurgence of glorious feeling throughout her body. The trembling in her legs.

But instead, someone seems to decide to puppet her. A voice she recognizes. She snatches at her throat at first, confused, slapping at her lips. She tries to point at her mouth and shake her head as she looks at the newly transformed Nora. Distracting, but not distracting enough to take attention away from this horrible experience.

Then it gets worse. As she hears all these details, and learns of Nora's employment, Fettina narrows her eyes and puffs up her cheeks. Her fists get propped on her hips. Oh, geeze. She's furious. When she's finally allowed to speak again, she takes a deep, laboured breath and says, "Nora-- Nora, you work for that bitch!" She tries to puff up some more, but Nora did say Tina was her 'good friend'. That makes a girl like Fettina pause. And Nora did seem pretty confused and upset herself... "Well, look, this isn't cool! And I'm not going to see her again! Now tell her to stop puppeting me!"

[Recaiden]

[The Annex]

It stands on the border of Area 22266252, a vast archway of silvery metal connecting 'here', a seaside cliff far to the south with 'a region-like noun which cannot even be described as `there` given its lack of spatial extension', whose number has been given.


If you look through the archway you can see buildings with their plastic-crystal spires, grasslands and forests. If you look around the arch, you see just the sea, distant icebergs perhaps. And on the near side of the arch is a transparent building, a little kitchen-conservatory-antechamber, which is where I bring the Saint.
This is the page right next to the other page. My chariot pulls up outside and I carry the poor dead pacifist inside before letting the birds have a rest.

Then I sit the corpse onto a plain table and go to remove the spike from its skull.

[Earl of Purple]

The Annex

The aura of peace dissipates immediately when the spike is removed, the soul escaping through the hole in the skull. The spike's still covered in blood, which is stopping it from leaking. The Saint, however, is pretty much dead. Interestingly, the Saint managed to survive the spike being inserted, just not its removal.

[Morty]

[Underside]

"Tempting as it may be, this lot is bad enough at operating sophisticated machinery when they're sober," the archivist says. "I let those upstairs deal with paper and arguing. Down here we deal with rock. We dig deep for it, so the writing on it stays forever." He walks over to a table where he picks up a loudspeaker. "Get me the Trollfinger and Sneergrim slabs over here."

Two other goblins, seated among machinery, spring into action, throwing levers, turning cranks and pushing sliders. The machines above and around the two families turn and spin, sending some slabs of rock into an intricate dance before finally depositing three in front of them.

"Let's get to it. We're writing down..."

"Balthuk and Maltrika. With all my last names..."

"...but not their father's, on account of not having one. Well, it's happened. Step on it, you two."

The machinists pull some smaller levers as a chisel descends from above and starts painstakingly carving runes into the dark rock.

"And now..." Rapnuk hands the elder archivist Cheasadh's papers. "Cheasadh Dathrii Trollfinger. Well, our ancestors chose to live down here in the dark too, once. It's one of the few things the followers of One Below, Earth Queen and the Spirit in Gears can agree on. Get it done."

Another two chisels appear and start writing Cheasadh's name into both slabs.

[Recaiden]

I shout in surprise and spring back away from the saint, no, just the saint's body now, isn't it?

Breaking the skull must have freed her at last. The rest of it was all sealed up, but when the spike changed that...

I suppose I should bury her - no, wait, the others were cremated. Better put her ashes in a little jar with a plaque that says 'Probably Eanflaed the Arrow-Proof, Martyr of Unnash, but possibly Lede the Lonely, Hermit of Lagar'. I guess it's good to have an end to it. I scamper over into the house proper and conjure a box, wood and accelerants, the aforementioned urn and plaque.
"I don't know what'll happen to you without your god, but I'm sure you'll like it better than leading an undead army."

I take her amulet and ring and bangles, and finally lift away the mask.
What's left, I lay on the pyre.

[Earl of Purple]

Underside

Cheasadh is watching all the machinery with great fascination. They're amazing things, and she'll examine the slab when it arrives, if she's close enough. She's really interested in what the letters look like.

Annex

If breaking her skull is what freed her to death, why didn't hammering the spike into her head 'kill' her?

There's a hole in the mask, and underneath the face is mummified-looking, like the rest of the body, but bleeding far more than it should. It doesn't resist as it's put onto the pyre, and burns quite well.

[Recaiden]

Well, it was a pretty small spike. I'd probably survive having into jammed into my head too.
Not that I'm going to try.

I gather the ash and feel like I should say something. But I don't have any idea what. I didn't know her, or their religion, or anything but what that mad occultist told me about the place.

---

Now, as for the spike, I want to wash away the blood first. But then...has anything changed?
It's occurred to me that maybe the spikes were left behind by other looters and explorers, not by the pacifists of the temple at all.

[Earl of Purple]

The Annex

There's a trace of holy power in the ashes. Not much, not as potent as it was when the soul of the Saint was within, but there's some there- enough to make holy water, if it's mixed in water.

The power will start to leak out once the blood has been washed off, though no faster than before. Being in the Saint, and being bathed in blood, kept the power sealed within, somehow.

[CosmicHobbit]

Deception in pursuit of his goals!
An excellent sign if you ask the puppet.

The super-hard plastic that once surrounded this entrance is broken in big smooth pieces, the effect of impacting the ground at such a speed and angle as it did. Was there a struggle here at one point? Possibly. Btu it was a long time ago.
A torn-in-half door leads into another slanted hallway.
Taking a right, a left, and a right should get him past the puppet-guarded door to a cavernous room with a heap of rubble and broken furniture at the bottom. On the far side of the room, one might hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
Maybe they'll just walk past? Maybe he'd better hide?

If Oliver knew the puppet approved, he'd hate that he'd feel somewhat proud.

Oliver is on high alert right now, and hears the footsteps. He immediately looks for some sort of hidden ledge he could get to, and if there's none he shifts to deciding whether or not he'd hurt himself too badly by jumping into the furniture and rubble.

[Gullara]

[Tieflings and Vampires and Sneks Oh My]

Vampirism has perks that Valerie had never imagined before. She passes out a grilled cheese sandwich to each of her four daughters as they wait (mostly) patiently at the table with more spring in her step than she's had for months. It's so good to not be tired. She spins back to the counter and dishes the last sandwich onto a plate... and sets it aside for Astrana. Not being able to enjoy the meal with the kids is a downside. You win some and lose some.

[Recaiden]

[The Annex]

I can feel that, a little trickle of magic flowing out into the room.

I scowl at the spike for a moment, but realize I'll have to do something that's a bit of a bad idea if I want to figure this spike out.
But I think about cutting myself or stabbing myself and...no.
So I don't figure it out today.

I can get some blood from the kitchen, game that's yet to be butchered, and paint the spike in that. That might give another hint.

[BC's HQ]

There's no ledges exactly, but he could try perching on top of a tilled doorframe, leaning slightly against the wall.
It's just like rock climbing! Easy!

[Earl of Purple]

The Annex

The blood works, and it's not just the tin spike that leaks- the charged iron one does too, and has since Yone found it. It's not a very fast leak, though- more like it's losing a certain fraction of its charge rather than losing a set amount of power. It'll get weaker and weaker, but it probably won't actually run out- at least, not any time soon.

The blood will keep the iron spike from leaking, too. It doesn't need to be completely immersed, just mostly covered, and when the blood dries it starts to leak again. Yone stabbing herself with one (or stabbing somebody that can tell her what it does) would probably be a big help.

[Recaiden]

[The Annex]

I glare at the spike for a while. It seems like I'll have to do something drastic. And, not wanting to put anyone else in danger, and not being any good at creating people to solve my problems, there's just one option.
I get a silver knife, drill, my hammer, a whole bunch of cleaning material, and my anatomical diagrams, and install the spike carefully into myself, in a particular empty spot in the back of my head. Honestly not a big deal compared to some things I've done.

[154 Oceanside Drive]

Sekhmet follows. "It's nice, mostly. I don't get out much, I'd get in trouble. There's a war going on, and that makes it worse. But Auntie and Uncle are good people. They brought me tutors to learn maths and sciences, and they get the materials for my projects. Oh, and they put a new train station in town. I snuck out to see the first train come in. They say they're the future."

Oh, they are I'm sure. Plenty of trains around here, the Riftline system. More trains is more people, though. And there weren't a lot of people like you, I take it?"

"As an immigrant myself, I can tell you a little bit about how strange this place is. There's three main cities: this one is called 'Inside', then 'Riverside' and 'Skyside' are where you'd imagine. And only Riverside has much organization to it. The others are chaos. The real power is the organizations: mercenary outfits, churches, extradimensional expeditionary forces, acros like HALO." Neverest shakes their head. Probably.
"Since people turn up through portals from all over, you can find just about anything somewhere. But since they mostly turn up alone, the technology and ideas don't spread too fast."

Trog's is necessarily close enough to walk to, so they're just walking back as well. Probably no one is going to mess with a group, nor with a guy made of explosions, so they should be alright on that front.
They turn onto a residential street, then start up a looong driveway to an enormous house.

[Earl of Purple]

The Annex

Putting it into the head's a good idea, and the exact location does help determine what it does. As it happens, however, inserting it is painful. Even if Yone's using painkillers, it's hurting as the soul fragment trapped within the spike is forcibly spliced into Yone's own soul. There should also be a bit of blood, but the art of Hemalurgy is messy, and using it will ensure that the body will reform itself around the spike.

Where Yone has placed the spike provides a slight boost to her sight. Her eyes are slightly sharper, now, but the charge has been dissipating for a very long time. It's a very small boost, and... Well, I'm not sure how the boost will manifest itself.

[CosmicHobbit]

[BC's HQ]

There's no ledges exactly, but he could try perching on top of a tilled doorframe, leaning slightly against the wall.
It's just like rock climbing! Easy!

Oliver's not the best at climbing without gear at the best of times, and setting up the gear would take too long. He starts trying to roughly gauge whether jumping into the broken furniture would hurt him badly enough he couldn't complete the mission.

[bc56]

154 Oceanside Drive

Sekhmet gazes in wonder at everything. The cityscape itself is strange to her, neither skyscrapers nor suburbs exist in her homeworld. As the group walks, she continues to talk. "Not where I lived. I was the only one I know of in the entire city. So this is where you live?" She asks as they arrive at the house.