diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 3a874b9..c290dde 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -29,6 +29,7 @@ src/epistolary/00058.md src/epistolary/00059.md src/epistolary/00060.md src/epistolary/00061.md +src/epistolary/00062.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aetherwael.md src/bestiary/aur.md diff --git a/src/epistolary/00062.md b/src/epistolary/00062.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1070251 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00062.md @@ -0,0 +1,114 @@ +--- +title: 00062 +created: Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700 +updated: Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700 +public: yes +syndicated: yes +--- +### 00062 {#00062} + +> One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch Avenue. +> In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles a canoe painted +> with long stripes of yellow and white with deep brown swipes. The s'more +> interior padding is soft, yet with the suppleness of fruit leather. A few +> round, matching brown mini-cushions are strewn across the boat interior. Also +> in the boat are two silver spoon paddles, more for looks than cooks. +> +> They don't know where the boat came from. Things just appear. Like that Red +> Squirrel. Inky moves to holler a greeting, but instead recites: +> +> ``` +> "sgb rpthqqbk hr qba sgb fgnrsr dktb +> sgb qnkkr rwbbs uma rn uqb ynt +> sgnt uqs ly fthahmf rsuq ul h sghmb +> h rbb vbqhky ly utrohehntr rhfm +> sgb kns wur snrra uma sgbm h aqbw +> uma cnqstmb ruha hs rgnta db ynt ott"[1] +> ``` +> +> +> ``` +> [1]: +> "The squirrel is red, the ghost's blue, +> The roll's sweet, and so are you. +> Thou art my guiding star, am I thine? +> I see verily my auspicious sign: +> The lot was toss'd and then I drew, +> And Fortune said it shou'd be you. Puu." +> ``` + +~ + +> While Inky boards her banana boat and recites poetry to the maddened +> squirrel, Alex springs to action leaping blithely from the branch +> towards the squirrel. Beneath him manifests a cockpit, sleek and +> futuristic. Around this materializes a large robotic weapon, +> octopus-oid in shape. The many tentacles bristle with weapons both +> fearsome and deadly. +> +> Alex grabs the controls, in one tentacle he latches onto the banana +> boat, that way he won't accidentally get separated from Inky. With +> the other seven a series of feathers appear in every brilliant hue. +> The tentacle attached to the boat unfurls allowing Alex to draw +> closer to the squirrel. As the gap closes the most intense tickle +> fight the dream world has ever seen ensues, bringing joyous laughter +> to the faces of many. +> +> "Inky, if we need to get out of here, just jet it! That tentacle will +> yank the control pod and me with it!" + +Alex basically becomes a Mech pilot, and confronts the Red Squirrel +head on with the Octopod. + +You engage in the tickle fight to end all tickle fights! + +Its eight arms are more than a match for the squirrels eight legs. +You have the advantage of reach, entanglement, and sucker pads. It +struggles in your grasp, gnashing its terrible teeth, but cannot +reach you. Its long tail whips around ineffectively, battering you +softly. + +The agitated squirrel squeals and swells like a red balloon. The +mech's tentacles struggle to contain it. Just as the strain on the +machine is about to become unbearable, the rodent violently deflates. +It collapses in on itself with such ferocity that it turns itself +inside out. The octopod, all tangled up in the collapsing squirrel, +is pulled along as it folds in on itself until it becomes a hungry +void the size of a marble, floating in space and sucking at the air. + +Inky watches from the banana boat as Alex and the squirrel disappear +from the Silver Forest. The squirrel portal finally closes in on +itself, severing the banana boat from the octopus mecha at the last +possible second. Inky on this side. Alex on the other. + +Alex, you and the wreckage of the octopod are vomited out onto a +sandy beach. Red mist and vapors dissipate from your entry point. +Before you is a vast ocean, lapping lazily at the beach. The +shoreline extends endlessly in both directions. Behind you are +endless sand dunes. Though there is no sun, the sky seems to hover at +sunset, all brilliant, swirling oranges and purples. + +A lone humanoid figure can be seen standing atop a nearby dune. It is +tall. It has legs like a goat or fawn, and a paunchy belly. Its long +neck protrudes into a kind of trunk that eventually folds over and +hangs down in front of the creature, about chest height. It +terminates in a smooth, round nub. No face. It wears a small satchel +at its hip, its strap slung over one shoulder and across its chest. +Its long arms hand loosely at its sides. Despite the lack of a face +and any sensory organs, it seems to be watching you. Slowly, it +descends the dune and starts walking toward you. It reaches into its +satchel and draws a long, sharp knife as it approaches. + +Inky, you are in the banana boat in the Silver Forest. The turtle +that was a chipmunk has holed up in its shell, effectively just a +sticky bun. + +"You wanted to see me," intones a slightly muffled voice behind you. +A statement, not a question. You turn to see a figure cloaked in +shadows and demons. They wear a domed helmet of black obsidian glass, +flashes of rainbow colored light crackling along the inside +illuminating very little of the smoke-filled interior. + +"What is it you seek from Dude 215R?" + +WHAT DO YOU DO diff --git a/src/notes.md b/src/notes.md index cd696b4..1a5975c 100644 --- a/src/notes.md +++ b/src/notes.md @@ -18,14 +18,13 @@ updated: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 02:24:11 -0700 - Sitopotnia has offered new corn-based bodies to the cyberplasm if they can deliver to her the Quintessence - Blavin double agent with Golden Iris - BATT wants to preserve the timeline -- Felixe and Corraidhin +- Felixe and Corraidhin, show up in the dreaming **NAMES AND NPCS** Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters - [ ] Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: -- [ ] Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time lord - [ ] zai-ni (zine) - [ ] zeyeknee (zine) - [ ] standard ed @@ -36,6 +35,7 @@ Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters - [ ] Cyber Woman With Corn! (Sitopotnia?) -- - [ ] oracle - - [ ] corn smut? - +- [ ] Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time lord - [x] harrowkrake - [x] time swallows: It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most widespread species of swallow. That distinction belongs to the *time* swallow. Although---if you're lucky---you'll never actually see one. - [x] gnu zealots diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index f760078..a840f49 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -322,6 +322,7 @@ Master
  • 00059
  • 00060
  • 00061
    • +
  • 00062
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -358,11 +359,11 @@ Teale

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 79424 words / 339 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 80256 words / 342 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 213 messages posted over 208 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.02.

    +

    There have been 217 messages posted over 215 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.

    @@ -7212,6 +7213,95 @@ under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of Dreams.

    You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon you.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    00062

    +
    +

    One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch +Avenue. In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles +a canoe painted with long stripes of yellow and white with deep brown +swipes. The s’more interior padding is soft, yet with the suppleness of +fruit leather. A few round, matching brown mini-cushions are strewn +across the boat interior. Also in the boat are two silver spoon paddles, +more for looks than cooks.

    +

    They don’t know where the boat came from. Things just appear. Like +that Red Squirrel. Inky moves to holler a greeting, but instead +recites:

    +
    "sgb rpthqqbk hr qba sgb fgnrsr dktb
+sgb qnkkr rwbbs uma rn uqb ynt
+sgnt uqs ly fthahmf rsuq ul h sghmb
+h rbb vbqhky ly utrohehntr rhfm
+sgb kns wur snrra uma sgbm h aqbw
+uma cnqstmb ruha hs rgnta db ynt ott"[1]
+
+[1]:
+"The squirrel is red, the ghost's blue,
+The roll's sweet, and so are you.
+Thou art my guiding star, am I thine?
+I see verily my auspicious sign:
+The lot was toss'd and then I drew,
+And Fortune said it shou'd be you. Puu."
    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    While Inky boards her banana boat and recites poetry to the maddened +squirrel, Alex springs to action leaping blithely from the branch +towards the squirrel. Beneath him manifests a cockpit, sleek and +futuristic. Around this materializes a large robotic weapon, octopus-oid +in shape. The many tentacles bristle with weapons both fearsome and +deadly.

    +

    Alex grabs the controls, in one tentacle he latches onto the banana +boat, that way he won’t accidentally get separated from Inky. With the +other seven a series of feathers appear in every brilliant hue. The +tentacle attached to the boat unfurls allowing Alex to draw closer to +the squirrel. As the gap closes the most intense tickle fight the dream +world has ever seen ensues, bringing joyous laughter to the faces of +many.

    +

    “Inky, if we need to get out of here, just jet it! That tentacle will +yank the control pod and me with it!”

    +
    +

    Alex basically becomes a Mech pilot, and confronts the Red Squirrel +head on with the Octopod.

    +

    You engage in the tickle fight to end all tickle fights!

    +

    Its eight arms are more than a match for the squirrels eight legs. +You have the advantage of reach, entanglement, and sucker pads. It +struggles in your grasp, gnashing its terrible teeth, but cannot reach +you. Its long tail whips around ineffectively, battering you softly.

    +

    The agitated squirrel squeals and swells like a red balloon. The +mech’s tentacles struggle to contain it. Just as the strain on the +machine is about to become unbearable, the rodent violently deflates. It +collapses in on itself with such ferocity that it turns itself inside +out. The octopod, all tangled up in the collapsing squirrel, is pulled +along as it folds in on itself until it becomes a hungry void the size +of a marble, floating in space and sucking at the air.

    +

    Inky watches from the banana boat as Alex and the squirrel disappear +from the Silver Forest. The squirrel portal finally closes in on itself, +severing the banana boat from the octopus mecha at the last possible +second. Inky on this side. Alex on the other.

    +

    Alex, you and the wreckage of the octopod are vomited out onto a +sandy beach. Red mist and vapors dissipate from your entry point. Before +you is a vast ocean, lapping lazily at the beach. The shoreline extends +endlessly in both directions. Behind you are endless sand dunes. Though +there is no sun, the sky seems to hover at sunset, all brilliant, +swirling oranges and purples.

    +

    A lone humanoid figure can be seen standing atop a nearby dune. It is +tall. It has legs like a goat or fawn, and a paunchy belly. Its long +neck protrudes into a kind of trunk that eventually folds over and hangs +down in front of the creature, about chest height. It terminates in a +smooth, round nub. No face. It wears a small satchel at its hip, its +strap slung over one shoulder and across its chest. Its long arms hand +loosely at its sides. Despite the lack of a face and any sensory organs, +it seems to be watching you. Slowly, it descends the dune and starts +walking toward you. It reaches into its satchel and draws a long, sharp +knife as it approaches.

    +

    Inky, you are in the banana boat in the Silver Forest. The turtle +that was a chipmunk has holed up in its shell, effectively just a sticky +bun.

    +

    “You wanted to see me,” intones a slightly muffled voice behind you. +A statement, not a question. You turn to see a figure cloaked in shadows +and demons. They wear a domed helmet of black obsidian glass, flashes of +rainbow colored light crackling along the inside illuminating very +little of the smoke-filled interior.

    +

    “What is it you seek from Dude 215R?”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    diff --git a/www/rss.xml b/www/rss.xml index 8ecb5b3..7ac9007 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -6,232 +6,110 @@ https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! - 61 + 62 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 61 - Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 + 62 - Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700 - Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700 + Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700 00061 -

    Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch - as wide a street in the heart of the great white upside-down - forest.

    -

    A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and - the branches below you sway and rustle as something rises up - from the depths. You keep catching a glimpse of scarlet - between the silvery white leaves.

    -

    The large black ravens perched below you scream in - agitation and fly up past you to the thicker branches up - above, where they hop side to side and loudly scold and - protest the disturbance. A single black feather the length of - your hand settles to the ground at your feet, knocked loose - during their flight.

    -

    You finally see the fearsome beast crashing through the - branches below you. Its crazed, yellow eyes as large and round - as dinner plates, a great eight-legged rodent leaps from - branch to branch as it swiftly ascends. It is a bloody, - crimson red. Its long tufted ears lay flat against its - elongated, grinning skull. Its ribbon-like tail twitches as it - trails along behind it like a river of blood. It cries out - again in anger, showing its overgrown incisors, and grinds and - gnashes its back teeth.

    -

    Its eyes bore into you with wild fury and blind madness as - it climbs.

    -

    “She’s not herself,” sighs the chipmunk, suddenly at your - side once more. When you look down at the chipmunk, however, - it has suddenly turned into a small featureless black turtle - with a sticky sweet roll instead of a shell. Its smooth little - head pokes timidly out of the roll.

    -

    “The Red Squirrel,” laments the turtle. “She’s being ridden - by a ghost. An angry ghost who isn’t from here. Somebody left - the door open, and it blew in on the breeze.” The turtle’s - voice trails off until its final words are barely a - whisper.

    -

    You can still feel two currents tugging at you and trying - to pull you under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core - memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of - Dreams.

    -

    You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon - you.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    - ]]> -     -     - - 60 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 60 - Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47 --0700 - Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700 - - 00060 +

    00062

    -

    Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is - definitely strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him - with his impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately - the same can’t be said for his roguish good looks, as he’s - found himself 6 arms heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he - remembers.

    -

    Nontheless this doesn’t appear to be much of an impediment, - and he promptly moves on with assessing the situation.

    -

    “Acorns? No, I don’t think so. I’m afraid octopus’ are - terrible at fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a - dreadfully important meeting across town.” turning to address - Inky, “We need to make a break for it, what’d the witch tell - you? Envision our goal or something? This is really a little - outside of my realm of mechanical magic expertise.. - unless..”

    -

    Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a - terminal prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at - blinding speed at the digital window, a quick bypass there, a - root access escalation there.

    -

    “Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it’s an older - kernel, about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as - needed. Here I’m giving us sudo access, should we need - it.”

    -

    “Oh and squirrel, here’s your acorns”

    - 
    find /* -name '*acron*' -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \
    +

    One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle + of Branch Avenue. In the next, they are reclining in a banana + boat that resembles a canoe painted with long stripes of + yellow and white with deep brown swipes. The s’more interior + padding is soft, yet with the suppleness of fruit leather. A + few round, matching brown mini-cushions are strewn across the + boat interior. Also in the boat are two silver spoon paddles, + more for looks than cooks.

    +

    They don’t know where the boat came from. Things just + appear. Like that Red Squirrel. Inky moves to holler a + greeting, but instead recites:

    + 
    "sgb rpthqqbk hr qba sgb fgnrsr dktb
+sgb qnkkr rwbbs uma rn uqb ynt
+sgnt uqs ly fthahmf rsuq ul h sghmb
+h rbb vbqhky ly utrohehntr rhfm
+sgb kns wur snrra uma sgbm h aqbw
+uma cnqstmb ruha hs rgnta db ynt ott"[1]
    + 
    [1]:
+"The squirrel is red, the ghost's blue,
+The roll's sweet, and so are you.
+Thou art my guiding star, am I thine?
+I see verily my auspicious sign:
+The lot was toss'd and then I drew,
+And Fortune said it shou'd be you. Puu."
    -

    It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he - corrects ‘acron’ to ‘acorn’. Then he moves all the acorns to - the chipmunk instead of to the squirrel.

    -

    Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk’s feet. It - squeals in delight.

    -

    In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell - of what can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns - has just vanished.

    -

    The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts - scooping up acorns by the armful and shoving them into its - mouth by the dozen. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” it - says around a mouthful of nuts. “Here…” It tosses you a large - square silver coin with a round hole drilled in the center. On - one side is the number twenty-one next to a picture of a - curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is the number - five and a picture of a flail.

    -

    “A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it’s all - I have,” it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide - its nuts. Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.

    -

    If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the - hole, you see the dreamscape before you as though looking - through a cloudy film. All the same stuff is there, but it’s - hazy and shadowy.

    -

    Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out - of hailing distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes. - Dark shadows pool restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the - shadows leap up and take the form of demons the like of which - words cannot describe, before falling and returning to shadow - once more. The figure wears a large spherical helmet of - obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes of a rainbow - of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the helmet - like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel - sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels - a tug, a familiarity. Something about this character is - familiar to you, but you cannot place it.

    -

    When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape - both disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted - landscape reappears but the figure is gone.

    -

    You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather - intently from the branches below.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    - ]]> -     -     - - 59 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 59 - Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 --0700 - Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 -0700 - - 00059 +

    ~

    -

    Alex procures from a pocket of his trenchcoat a tiny vial. - On the vial is a small strip of parchment which reads:

    - 
    #!/bin/ash
-sleepy=true
-
-sleep() {
-        while sleepy; do
-                sleep(10)
-        done
-}
-
-trap sleep INT EXIT
    -

    He empties the vial into a glass of warm milk and hands it - to bread.

    -

    “Drink up friend, this’ll relax and soothe you. You’ll - probably have the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had”

    -

    Over the radio Alex provides a quick reminder to - Marvelo.

    -

    “7, remember, should you need to wake bread to get us out - you can interrupt or cancel the sleep script, Ctrl + C should - work for the disruption work. Or if you need to you can set - sleepy=false, if it gets crazy and you need to modify the - metavarbalic properties of the enchantment.”

    -

    Turning to Inky, “Eight bells and all’s well, lets get this - show on the road”

    +

    While Inky boards her banana boat and recites poetry to the + maddened squirrel, Alex springs to action leaping blithely + from the branch towards the squirrel. Beneath him manifests a + cockpit, sleek and futuristic. Around this materializes a + large robotic weapon, octopus-oid in shape. The many tentacles + bristle with weapons both fearsome and deadly.

    +

    Alex grabs the controls, in one tentacle he latches onto + the banana boat, that way he won’t accidentally get separated + from Inky. With the other seven a series of feathers appear in + every brilliant hue. The tentacle attached to the boat unfurls + allowing Alex to draw closer to the squirrel. As the gap + closes the most intense tickle fight the dream world has ever + seen ensues, bringing joyous laughter to the faces of + many.

    +

    “Inky, if we need to get out of here, just jet it! That + tentacle will yank the control pod and me with it!”

    -

    Bread smiles and thanks you for the milk. They down the - glass, smack their lips a few times, and wipe their mouth with - the back of their hand. Their eyelids grow heavy and close, - and they slump down on the cushions. They’re already asleep by - the time their head hits the pillow.

    -
    -

    Inky nods once at Alex’s words and finishes off their own - cuppa steeped with calea and thyme, and blended into osmanthus - matcha. Lucida, Protege, Aware, Perfume. A meaningless - mantra.

    -

    They glance to their owlish accomplice (who, she will - remind you, is well-trained and needs no sleeping aid, thank - you very much, unlike her impish charge) and silently mouth - the words “Dude 215R” with a wink. Then they settle for a nap, - chin pillowed on their forearms, which are propped atop - drawn-up knees. A walking stick rests on their lap. A herb - bouquet of pink blooms becomes an owl cushion.

    -

    Inky dreamforms of a cream noogle. Puko. And Fuko is, well, - still Fuko.

    -
    -

    You light the Nyxmaer. The flame crackles and dances. It - smokes darkly, and the scent it gives off is thick and - heady.

    -

    You breathe deeply of it and settle down to sleep.

    -

    When you open your eyes you are standing on the branch of - an enormous white tree. It’s as wide as a narrow street. Its - leaves are silver blades that uncurl in the dappled light from - below.

    -

    One of the first things you notice is that gravity is - reversed here. The branches below you reach down, grazing an - endless sky. Small iridescent jellyfish medusae drift lazily - far, far below, catching and reflecting the light. And the - trunk thickens as it reaches up overhead, where its roots - drill into the ceiling above.

    -

    Because of dream logic, you know that in some way this tree - represents Kelsun Peak, Bread’s home. And also because of - dream logic, you know that the branches furthest away from you - in some way represent the great dragon Lucin who lives deep in - the mountain. And they are just as dangerous. They sway in the - breeze and seem to be aware of you, and are for now satisfied - at the distance you keep from them.

    -

    There is a chipmunk sitting cross-legged before you on the - branch. It looks curiously up at you and says, “The Red - Squirrel stole my acorns! Are you going to get them back for - me?”

    -

    You can feel a metaphysical tug in your gut as your orient - yourself to dreamspace like the needle of a compass. “Inward” - you can feel a tug toward Bread’s deep unconscious. To their - core memories. “Outward” you can feel a tug away from Bread - toward the shores of the Sea of Dreams, where you may continue - your journey through the Collective Unconsciousness to the - pocket dimension of the Wandering Bazaar. You need not move - physically to travel in either direction. It’s more a matter - of choosing a destination, and letting the winds blow you in - that direction.

    -

    “My acorns!” insists the chipmunk, wringing its hands. “The - Red Squirrel has taken them all! Are you going to help - me?”

    +

    Alex basically becomes a Mech pilot, and confronts the Red + Squirrel head on with the Octopod.

    +

    You engage in the tickle fight to end all tickle + fights!

    +

    Its eight arms are more than a match for the squirrels + eight legs. You have the advantage of reach, entanglement, and + sucker pads. It struggles in your grasp, gnashing its terrible + teeth, but cannot reach you. Its long tail whips around + ineffectively, battering you softly.

    +

    The agitated squirrel squeals and swells like a red + balloon. The mech’s tentacles struggle to contain it. Just as + the strain on the machine is about to become unbearable, the + rodent violently deflates. It collapses in on itself with such + ferocity that it turns itself inside out. The octopod, all + tangled up in the collapsing squirrel, is pulled along as it + folds in on itself until it becomes a hungry void the size of + a marble, floating in space and sucking at the air.

    +

    Inky watches from the banana boat as Alex and the squirrel + disappear from the Silver Forest. The squirrel portal finally + closes in on itself, severing the banana boat from the octopus + mecha at the last possible second. Inky on this side. Alex on + the other.

    +

    Alex, you and the wreckage of the octopod are vomited out + onto a sandy beach. Red mist and vapors dissipate from your + entry point. Before you is a vast ocean, lapping lazily at the + beach. The shoreline extends endlessly in both directions. + Behind you are endless sand dunes. Though there is no sun, the + sky seems to hover at sunset, all brilliant, swirling oranges + and purples.

    +

    A lone humanoid figure can be seen standing atop a nearby + dune. It is tall. It has legs like a goat or fawn, and a + paunchy belly. Its long neck protrudes into a kind of trunk + that eventually folds over and hangs down in front of the + creature, about chest height. It terminates in a smooth, round + nub. No face. It wears a small satchel at its hip, its strap + slung over one shoulder and across its chest. Its long arms + hand loosely at its sides. Despite the lack of a face and any + sensory organs, it seems to be watching you. Slowly, it + descends the dune and starts walking toward you. It reaches + into its satchel and draws a long, sharp knife as it + approaches.

    +

    Inky, you are in the banana boat in the Silver Forest. The + turtle that was a chipmunk has holed up in its shell, + effectively just a sticky bun.

    +

    “You wanted to see me,” intones a slightly muffled voice + behind you. A statement, not a question. You turn to see a + figure cloaked in shadows and demons. They wear a domed helmet + of black obsidian glass, flashes of rainbow colored light + crackling along the inside illuminating very little of the + smoke-filled interior.

    +

    “What is it you seek from Dude 215R?”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    ]]>     @@ -434,6 +312,719 @@ Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not imm ]]>     + + 57 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 57 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44 +-0700 + Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700 + + 00057 +
    +

    Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, + “perfumed of rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I + appreciate it Inky, these past few days have been terribly + rough, and I’m rather tired of field rations.” Alex takes a + sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve been monitoring the + Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just me, but I + fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I + can’t be entirely certain.”

    +

    Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here. + As soon as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an + assignment, normally not an issue, but they wanted me to level + 3 of the busiest coffee shops in the bazar. I planted those + bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I bugged out. My + team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre + assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of + innocent lives are on the line here.”

    +

    “We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening + post in the sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s + where I’ve been hiding out, but I’m not certain it’s safe. + Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in the market, and this + vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk Market, looking + for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from HQ, + could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”

    +

    “As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me, + there’s 5 of them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man + the ship and get the hell out of here in a few hours, and it + may be our best chance. But there’s the iris letter we need to + attend to, and I cannot for the life of me find anything, not + a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this bodes very + poorly for us.”

    +

    Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have + a ritual we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting + place.. I’m leery Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle + trusted you, and I do as well. If you think this is our best + shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try to perform this + dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris business + turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a + gun?

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    “Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex. + Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.

    +

    The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly + deranged grin. “I’m sure you have already seen many grave + dangers. What’s another one for the bucket list? What’s life + if not violent and messy? So many melons dismembered and laid + waste daily—”

    +

    As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks. + “Melon vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about + his neighbour’s boa constrictors for years. The serpents were + drawn to the rodents his fruits typically attracted, which + might not have been a problem were it not for them hanging out + at his stall and scaring off his customers. Maybe he finally + took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” They + look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had + offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they + arrived, as he was already delivering to a household the next + district over.”

    +

    They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after + you? You didn’t do something horrid like help an old + grandmother cross the street on sockless skates, for + instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky continues, “As + for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. Blavin + knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others. + Until he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he + doesn’t know that, then he is hardly a threat.”

    +

    Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to + get our attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve + minutes of fame, for the right price. Enlightenment would + probably be too much to ask of a nightmare. If you’d rather + take your team and make a run for it instead, that’s fine too. + If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you missed the hotel + fondue at Kelsun Peak.”

    +

    Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their + head. “No gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo + walking stick hanging from a hook on a wall next to a worn + coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. It slides out quietly + to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel tube which, if + someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is sparsely + covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On + the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube + to end about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible + through the narrow window is a colourless liquid, most likely + a sedative or toxin, fills the reinforced steel interior.

    +

    They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that + Master Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have + been the most foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You + would do well to not make that mistake.”

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    “It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”, + Alex says, as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes, + “that’ll be the dead man’s trigger going off in my + hideout.”

    +

    Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems, + that hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite, + assuming they don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the + fun..

    +

    Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so + lets bring the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a + lead on this with this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take + the risk. I won’t run from this fight, my uncle sure as hell + wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out with a magnificient bang. + Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.

    +

    Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another + hideout in the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild. + It’s a little risky to head out that way, but none of my + Zabbix alerts indicate it was compromised. It has automated + IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe enough in there once + we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone comes for us, + and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We should + bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the + duck.

    +

    Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best + if you got the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe, + and I don’t want to see you become collateral here. Head down + to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 meet you there, he’ll help you + and your family lay low until all of this blows over.”

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as + well do as Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks + away, and turtle soup is really out of fashion these + days.”

    +

    Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning + about fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap + carrier draped in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you + don’t mind if I bring along a guest as well.”

    +

    The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse, + with transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured + by sliding shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a + woven, web-like pattern and adorned with a string of feathers + hangs from one side. On the opposite side is a double door + with a miniature knob over each door. Inky lightly taps on one + of the doors, and at a low click coming from within in + response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps + to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside. + The bird opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly + across the occupants in the room before dozing off again.

    +

    “This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain + shared connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I + asked their caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko + will accompany me for the ritual. Her brother is at another + location and can send a message if a need arises.” Inky + explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a minor + indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle + owls, are very good at negotiating with those of the + ravens.”

    +

    They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little + temperamental, but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse + doors, Inky turns back to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather + not reveal the location of your hideout to any more people + than necessary. Her carrier will remain covered on the way in + and out.”

    +
    +

    Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in + shadow, far from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of + funerals. Often under these very circumstances, in fact. And + he always keeps his distance out of respect.

    +

    For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and + trousers. And his bright red colors would be a sign of + disrespect among the mourners. Secondly and most importantly, + he himself is the one who put the man in the ground.

    +

    Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the + sysorcer. Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for + him. When he realized that one of the agents had been in + contact with the melon vendor, he knew that Popplewick could + and would identify the warpwefter if pressured.

    +

    Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon + vendor. Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from + the Cinderlands, his family came to Vay’Nullar following the + Artifice Wars when he was just a boy. He grew up poor, and + often relied on the generosity of others. But eventually he + was able to support himself and his small family. He was proud + of the life he had built.

    +

    So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one + night when Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the + assassin slipped a bag over his head and dragged him into a + dark alley. He cinched the bag tight, cutting off his air. + There was a brief struggle before Popplewick passed out and + Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him there, + unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took + but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.

    +

    Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until + only the widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her + chest. “Oh, Pepo,” she whispers to the headstone. “What can I + do now?”

    +

    When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She + meanders slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the + graveyard and down the hill. She steps into the wood. A flash + of red follows her at a distance.

    +

    She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the + child down on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at + her with solemn eyes. “I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to + the child. And that is all the explanation it gets.

    +

    She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her + go.

    +

    When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps + out of the shadows and crouches down beside the child. It + looks up and reaches for him. “Look at you,” he says to the + child as he scoops it up. “Who would throw you away? A + perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. “A + sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come, + Rind, we have work to do.”

    +

    The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the + city.

    +

    ~

    +

    In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They + clearly struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for + Popplewick’s death and the widow’s weakness.

    +

    Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and + awkwardly turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears + the latch with a faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle + against the heavy iron door, pushing it slowly open, inch by + inch. A mechanism clicks inside and there is a whoosh of air + and then a boom as the bunker violently ignites. The tiny + figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer + tunnel.

    +

    Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and + crouches down by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered + and burned bundle of cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small + child standing at his elbow. “You must always acknowledge and + be grateful for those who sacrifice for you.” He starts to + untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It unfurls and + smooths out and stitches itself back together under his touch. + Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again + holding his red sash.

    +

    “Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s + hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage + here.”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +
      +
    • The time of the ritual is at hand.
      • +
    • What final preparations do you make before entering + Dreamspace?
      • +
    + ]]> +     +     + + 61 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 61 - Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 +-0700 + Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700 + + 00061 +

    Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch + as wide a street in the heart of the great white upside-down + forest.

    +

    A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and + the branches below you sway and rustle as something rises up + from the depths. You keep catching a glimpse of scarlet + between the silvery white leaves.

    +

    The large black ravens perched below you scream in + agitation and fly up past you to the thicker branches up + above, where they hop side to side and loudly scold and + protest the disturbance. A single black feather the length of + your hand settles to the ground at your feet, knocked loose + during their flight.

    +

    You finally see the fearsome beast crashing through the + branches below you. Its crazed, yellow eyes as large and round + as dinner plates, a great eight-legged rodent leaps from + branch to branch as it swiftly ascends. It is a bloody, + crimson red. Its long tufted ears lay flat against its + elongated, grinning skull. Its ribbon-like tail twitches as it + trails along behind it like a river of blood. It cries out + again in anger, showing its overgrown incisors, and grinds and + gnashes its back teeth.

    +

    Its eyes bore into you with wild fury and blind madness as + it climbs.

    +

    “She’s not herself,” sighs the chipmunk, suddenly at your + side once more. When you look down at the chipmunk, however, + it has suddenly turned into a small featureless black turtle + with a sticky sweet roll instead of a shell. Its smooth little + head pokes timidly out of the roll.

    +

    “The Red Squirrel,” laments the turtle. “She’s being ridden + by a ghost. An angry ghost who isn’t from here. Somebody left + the door open, and it blew in on the breeze.” The turtle’s + voice trails off until its final words are barely a + whisper.

    +

    You can still feel two currents tugging at you and trying + to pull you under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core + memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of + Dreams.

    +

    You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon + you.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    + ]]> +     +     + + 58 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 58 - Sat, 21 Jan 2023 16:24:45 +-0700 + Sun, 29 Jan 2023 11:02:32 -0700 + + 00058 +
    +

    (A week prior)

    +

    The secretary collected the stack of papers that had + accumulated at one corner of the desk. “This might help,” she + said, setting down a bundle of herbs with white and pink + flowers in place of the papers.

    +

    Inky stared at the blooms, hands stilled over the owl’s + plumage. “Oh! Thanks. Good thinking, really. It’ll help make + the stench more bearable when they find the remains.”

    +

    The grey elf was confused for a moment, then mortified as + the words sank in. “That’s not what I meant! It’s for the + circle,” she clarified.

    +

    Seeing the imp’s preoccupied nod, she coughed lightly to + regain their attention, then spoke in a hushed voice. + “Beaker’s associates have picked up the empanada shop + proprietor and transported him to an undisclosed location. + There will be a retinue with him at all times.”

    +

    Inky seemed to visibly pull themselves back to the room + before responding, “Thank you, Salvia. One more thing — if I + do not return by the indicated time, please activate the + hitsuzen protocol. As precaution.”

    +

    The secretary looked at Inky in concern. “Is everything all + right? If you’re still troubled by the hotelier, accidents + happen. A single incident—”

    +

    “Third. An unidentified man was attacked at the docks. He + was probably sent to investigate the melon vendor. One of the + other stall owners heard him asking questions shortly after + the melon vendor disappeared.”

    +

    Salvia’s violet eyes narrowed. “What, the fruit vendor? + Didn’t the tabloids say it was an accident? He tried to get + rid of a neighbor’s nest of snakes.”

    +

    Inky only raised an eyebrow at her.

    +

    The secretary let out a low curse. “You didn’t tell her. + You didn’t want her to worry,” she said aloud in realization. + She sighed. “She’s going to be pretty angry with you when she + finds out, you know.”

    +

    Inky offered her a sardonic smile. “Making people angry is + my job. You of all people know this well. In the event of my + timely demise I’m sure the others would find it cause for a + grand celebration.” They replied matter-of-factly before + returning to smoothing the feathers of one bird wing.

    +

    Salvia shook her head vehemently. “That’s not true. You’ll + make it back, Ink. What then—”

    +

    “Then our fair Lady’s ire would be the least of the + problems.”

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Alex stared morosely into his cup of coffee. He’d received + word of agent 5’s demise that morning, and had been the only + thing on his mind since. 5, no Be’tram knew the risks, we all + knew the risks defying HQ brought, but to happen so suddenly? + He’d snuck down to the wharf once he’d heard, making sure to + cover his tracks and dodge any potential witnesses. He even + managed to slip past the police cordon they’d setup around the + body. What he’d found wasn’t pretty, it looked like Be’Tram + had suffered in his final moments. The bruising around his + neck pointed to strangulation, with some sort of cloth, + perhaps a rope. The bruising was deep, and there wasn’t a cut, + burn, shot or something of the likes on his otherwise.

    +

    The kill had been intimate.

    +

    Alex had worked quickly that night, popping Be’Tram’s eye + had been hard, but he’d of wanted Alex to have it. Behind his + right eye was a recording device, it could only catch the last + 15m or so of what he had seen, but it would give him a clear + look at what had happened. And potentially lead Alex to the + killer. Miserable business, but Be’Tram knew it could make a + difference.

    +

    Alex had planted a bomb on the body after he had extracted + the eye, and made his way well away from the area before it + went off obliterating the remains. A regrettable end for an + old friend, but it was too dangerous to leave.

    +

    And then there was the matter of the zabbix alert, a little + purple red critical for the sewer hideout. He’d had time to + send out a drone beetle. The smoldering slag that was left was + reassuring. Most of the equipment was utterly destroyed, racks + upon racks of servers reduced to twisted melted metal. The + effectively of the destruction was delightful, in a sick sort + of desperate way. Alex felt assured that most if not all of + the equipment was useless, but this spelled the end of a + valuable listening outpost. And whoever had done it wasn’t + part of the slag pile.

    +

    Alex stood up, his coffee untouched. The cafe around his + burbled in quiet excitement. The city had lit up since the + Melon vendor’s death. A thousand rumors abounded about it, but + none of them held true; some said the city had become + dangerous, a crime syndicate had arisen in the neighboring + city block another thought, and did you hear about the + explosion at the wharf the other night, the city was electric, + yet somehow ever so slightly off the pulse of the issue.

    +

    As Alex stepped away a woman with horn rimmed glasses + strode past the table he had just abandoned, deftly pulling + the note from beneath the coffee cup, left for her.

    + 
    4 -> 3
+Daylight breaks on the morrow
+The suns rays make chase
+casting soft cloth
+across the nap of nature's neck
+
+So, night relents and gives way
+biding time until
+it can rule
+in its own domain
    +

    For the passerby, it was but a bit of poetry, scribbled + carelessly on the back of a napkin in a coffee near the wharf. + But for Agent 3 it was a warning, one part notes on Agent 5s + demise recovered from his eyecam, one part orders; stay low + and we’ll strike these bastards from the shadows, on our + terms, on our ground. Similar missives were delivered to + Agents 6 & 7. The numbers were dwindling rapidly, even + just one agent lost was hard to stomach.

    +

    Alex hand gripped the pistol in his coat pocket with a + white knuckled grip as he stepped from the coffee shop into + the city. Whatever was after him, whatever had gotten to + Be’Tram, it had better know he was coming, and he’d happily + send it straight to hell. HQ be damned, the rules be damned, + this little game of cat and mouse had just gotten + personal.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Alex, Inky, Confidence, Bread, and Agent 7 find themselves + in a dark backroom in a secluded corner of an old fish + processing plant on the wharf. The accommodations are rough, + and the stench is abhorrent, but it’s the best that could be + procured in a pinch. And it should provide enough + seclusion.

    +

    The backroom is like that of many factories, high up near + the ceiling, a single rusty rickety staircase winds its way + along the side of the building for what seems to be 3 flights, + before it reaches a metal room with dusty grimy windows, and a + single steel door. The windows on the interior overlook the + fish processing plant, where rows of belts and machinery stand + still, covered in dust and long forgotten blood. You’re glad + to know that the factory stopped operating years ago, hygiene + is lacking in every sense.

    +

    Alex stares forlornly out the exterior windows, the sky is + a grey overcast, it matches his mood perfectly. He didn’t like + what him and Inky were about to do, but they didn’t have much + they could do about it. They would be vulnerable for the + duration of the ritual. But Agent 7 and Confidence were there + to help mitigate that risk. Alex and Agent 7 had taken every + precaution they could think of.

    +

    The plant floor was scattered with booby traps, trip wires, + and alarms. The other agents were laying low, but kept drones + around the wharf feeding in a network of twtxt data back to + Agent 7 for recon. And that was on top of the double barred + steel doors, and reinforced glass box they’d chosen as their + hide out. Meticulously planned, Alex expected no less from + Agent 7.

    +

    See Marvelo had been at this as long as Alex had, and then + some. He was sharp as a tack, with an animal-like third sense + that came from years of close calls. He was, simply put, the + right man for the job, when that job was keeping your + unconscious ass alive.

    +

    Alex turns away from the window and addresses Inky. + “Apologies for the smell, it turns out there’s a strong + correlation between disgust and seclusion, but I believe we + should at least be safe here. Safer than we would have been + back home. I’m ready if you are, as ready as I’ll ever be that + is.”

    +
    +

    The Golden Iris have summoned you to appear at the Harpoon + Club this evening. But the Harpoon Club is nowhere to be found + on this plane of existence. It won’t appear until a week and a + half from now, on the last day of the month.

    +

    Confidence the Guide has predicted exactly where the + Wandering Bazaar will be on that day. With a small bucket of + red paint and a large brush, he has drawn a Linking Sigil on + the ground at the location. He sits nearby, making sure + careless passersby and mischievous kids don’t disturb it, but + otherwise letting the sigil absorb the energies of the bustle + of shopping and commerce.

    +

    At the fish market, Marvelo is posted outside. He keeps + vigilant watch, alert to every movement and disturbance.

    +

    And inside, Bread, Inky, Fuko, and Alex are huddled up in + the office in the back near the ceiling. They all sit inside a + dark circle that has been smudged on the floor with a paste + made of ash and salt. Painted on the ground is a second + Linking Sigil, connecting this spot to Confidence’s, allowing + the energies of the two locations to co-mingle. There is also + the Dream Sigil, which will connect this place to the + Dreaming.

    +

    Bread the Host is propped up on some pillows and cushions + in the center of the circle, next to the Nyxmaer. The candle + is alleged to be made of the flesh and fat of a certain + nightmare. Its hand and eye bound in the wax. The Dream Sigil + is the door, but the Nyxmaer is the key. The catalyst that + will cause all of the otherwise inert metaphysical particles + to become volatile and reactive. It is what will allow you to + actually pass over and arrive on the shores of the Sea of + Dreams.

    +

    Per the shop witch’s instructions, the Nyxmaer has been + placed on a thin, hard tin plate. As the candle burns, the wax + will soften and eventually allow the large metal nail in its + side to fall. When it strikes the plate, you will awaken, + exiting the Dreaming. You expect hours may pass in the realm + of sleep. But only about thirty minutes will pass here.

    +

    Inky and Alex sit inside the circle, near the perimeter, + facing Bread in the center. Fuko the owl sits at Inky’s + side.

    +

    It is dim. You are illuminated by mundane, non-magical + candles set around the edges of the circle. Outside, a steady + rain beats on the roof and the windows of the building. The + smell of fish is faint but ever-present. A constant reminder + of the small creatures that have left their bodies in a + fashion far more permanent and irreversible than the + separation of spirit and body you are about to experience. You + hope.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +
      +

    • How do you induce a deep and powerful slumber in + Bread?

      • +

    • What shape or form will you take when you arrive in the + Dreaming?

      • +

    • What are you secretly worried or hopeful about being + exposed in the dreamland, the realm of metaphor?

      • +
    + ]]> +     +     + + 59 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 59 - Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 +-0700 + Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 -0700 + + 00059 +
    +

    Alex procures from a pocket of his trenchcoat a tiny vial. + On the vial is a small strip of parchment which reads:

    + 
    #!/bin/ash
+sleepy=true
+
+sleep() {
+        while sleepy; do
+                sleep(10)
+        done
+}
+
+trap sleep INT EXIT
    +

    He empties the vial into a glass of warm milk and hands it + to bread.

    +

    “Drink up friend, this’ll relax and soothe you. You’ll + probably have the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had”

    +

    Over the radio Alex provides a quick reminder to + Marvelo.

    +

    “7, remember, should you need to wake bread to get us out + you can interrupt or cancel the sleep script, Ctrl + C should + work for the disruption work. Or if you need to you can set + sleepy=false, if it gets crazy and you need to modify the + metavarbalic properties of the enchantment.”

    +

    Turning to Inky, “Eight bells and all’s well, lets get this + show on the road”

    +
    +

    Bread smiles and thanks you for the milk. They down the + glass, smack their lips a few times, and wipe their mouth with + the back of their hand. Their eyelids grow heavy and close, + and they slump down on the cushions. They’re already asleep by + the time their head hits the pillow.

    +
    +

    Inky nods once at Alex’s words and finishes off their own + cuppa steeped with calea and thyme, and blended into osmanthus + matcha. Lucida, Protege, Aware, Perfume. A meaningless + mantra.

    +

    They glance to their owlish accomplice (who, she will + remind you, is well-trained and needs no sleeping aid, thank + you very much, unlike her impish charge) and silently mouth + the words “Dude 215R” with a wink. Then they settle for a nap, + chin pillowed on their forearms, which are propped atop + drawn-up knees. A walking stick rests on their lap. A herb + bouquet of pink blooms becomes an owl cushion.

    +

    Inky dreamforms of a cream noogle. Puko. And Fuko is, well, + still Fuko.

    +
    +

    You light the Nyxmaer. The flame crackles and dances. It + smokes darkly, and the scent it gives off is thick and + heady.

    +

    You breathe deeply of it and settle down to sleep.

    +

    When you open your eyes you are standing on the branch of + an enormous white tree. It’s as wide as a narrow street. Its + leaves are silver blades that uncurl in the dappled light from + below.

    +

    One of the first things you notice is that gravity is + reversed here. The branches below you reach down, grazing an + endless sky. Small iridescent jellyfish medusae drift lazily + far, far below, catching and reflecting the light. And the + trunk thickens as it reaches up overhead, where its roots + drill into the ceiling above.

    +

    Because of dream logic, you know that in some way this tree + represents Kelsun Peak, Bread’s home. And also because of + dream logic, you know that the branches furthest away from you + in some way represent the great dragon Lucin who lives deep in + the mountain. And they are just as dangerous. They sway in the + breeze and seem to be aware of you, and are for now satisfied + at the distance you keep from them.

    +

    There is a chipmunk sitting cross-legged before you on the + branch. It looks curiously up at you and says, “The Red + Squirrel stole my acorns! Are you going to get them back for + me?”

    +

    You can feel a metaphysical tug in your gut as your orient + yourself to dreamspace like the needle of a compass. “Inward” + you can feel a tug toward Bread’s deep unconscious. To their + core memories. “Outward” you can feel a tug away from Bread + toward the shores of the Sea of Dreams, where you may continue + your journey through the Collective Unconsciousness to the + pocket dimension of the Wandering Bazaar. You need not move + physically to travel in either direction. It’s more a matter + of choosing a destination, and letting the winds blow you in + that direction.

    +

    “My acorns!” insists the chipmunk, wringing its hands. “The + Red Squirrel has taken them all! Are you going to help + me?”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    + ]]> +     +     + + 60 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 60 - Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47 +-0700 + Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700 + + 00060 +
    +

    Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is + definitely strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him + with his impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately + the same can’t be said for his roguish good looks, as he’s + found himself 6 arms heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he + remembers.

    +

    Nontheless this doesn’t appear to be much of an impediment, + and he promptly moves on with assessing the situation.

    +

    “Acorns? No, I don’t think so. I’m afraid octopus’ are + terrible at fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a + dreadfully important meeting across town.” turning to address + Inky, “We need to make a break for it, what’d the witch tell + you? Envision our goal or something? This is really a little + outside of my realm of mechanical magic expertise.. + unless..”

    +

    Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a + terminal prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at + blinding speed at the digital window, a quick bypass there, a + root access escalation there.

    +

    “Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it’s an older + kernel, about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as + needed. Here I’m giving us sudo access, should we need + it.”

    +

    “Oh and squirrel, here’s your acorns”

    + 
    find /* -name '*acron*' -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \
    +
    +

    It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he + corrects ‘acron’ to ‘acorn’. Then he moves all the acorns to + the chipmunk instead of to the squirrel.

    +

    Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk’s feet. It + squeals in delight.

    +

    In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell + of what can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns + has just vanished.

    +

    The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts + scooping up acorns by the armful and shoving them into its + mouth by the dozen. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” it + says around a mouthful of nuts. “Here…” It tosses you a large + square silver coin with a round hole drilled in the center. On + one side is the number twenty-one next to a picture of a + curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is the number + five and a picture of a flail.

    +

    “A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it’s all + I have,” it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide + its nuts. Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.

    +

    If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the + hole, you see the dreamscape before you as though looking + through a cloudy film. All the same stuff is there, but it’s + hazy and shadowy.

    +

    Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out + of hailing distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes. + Dark shadows pool restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the + shadows leap up and take the form of demons the like of which + words cannot describe, before falling and returning to shadow + once more. The figure wears a large spherical helmet of + obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes of a rainbow + of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the helmet + like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel + sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels + a tug, a familiarity. Something about this character is + familiar to you, but you cannot place it.

    +

    When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape + both disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted + landscape reappears but the figure is gone.

    +

    You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather + intently from the branches below.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    + ]]> +     +     54 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -715,488 +1306,6 @@ NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY ]]> - - 57 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 57 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44 --0700 - Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700 - - 00057 -
    -

    Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, - “perfumed of rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I - appreciate it Inky, these past few days have been terribly - rough, and I’m rather tired of field rations.” Alex takes a - sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve been monitoring the - Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just me, but I - fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I - can’t be entirely certain.”

    -

    Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here. - As soon as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an - assignment, normally not an issue, but they wanted me to level - 3 of the busiest coffee shops in the bazar. I planted those - bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I bugged out. My - team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre - assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of - innocent lives are on the line here.”

    -

    “We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening - post in the sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s - where I’ve been hiding out, but I’m not certain it’s safe. - Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in the market, and this - vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk Market, looking - for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from HQ, - could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”

    -

    “As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me, - there’s 5 of them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man - the ship and get the hell out of here in a few hours, and it - may be our best chance. But there’s the iris letter we need to - attend to, and I cannot for the life of me find anything, not - a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this bodes very - poorly for us.”

    -

    Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have - a ritual we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting - place.. I’m leery Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle - trusted you, and I do as well. If you think this is our best - shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try to perform this - dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris business - turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a - gun?

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    “Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex. - Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.

    -

    The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly - deranged grin. “I’m sure you have already seen many grave - dangers. What’s another one for the bucket list? What’s life - if not violent and messy? So many melons dismembered and laid - waste daily—”

    -

    As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks. - “Melon vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about - his neighbour’s boa constrictors for years. The serpents were - drawn to the rodents his fruits typically attracted, which - might not have been a problem were it not for them hanging out - at his stall and scaring off his customers. Maybe he finally - took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” They - look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had - offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they - arrived, as he was already delivering to a household the next - district over.”

    -

    They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after - you? You didn’t do something horrid like help an old - grandmother cross the street on sockless skates, for - instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky continues, “As - for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. Blavin - knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others. - Until he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he - doesn’t know that, then he is hardly a threat.”

    -

    Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to - get our attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve - minutes of fame, for the right price. Enlightenment would - probably be too much to ask of a nightmare. If you’d rather - take your team and make a run for it instead, that’s fine too. - If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you missed the hotel - fondue at Kelsun Peak.”

    -

    Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their - head. “No gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo - walking stick hanging from a hook on a wall next to a worn - coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. It slides out quietly - to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel tube which, if - someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is sparsely - covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On - the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube - to end about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible - through the narrow window is a colourless liquid, most likely - a sedative or toxin, fills the reinforced steel interior.

    -

    They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that - Master Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have - been the most foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You - would do well to not make that mistake.”

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    “It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”, - Alex says, as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes, - “that’ll be the dead man’s trigger going off in my - hideout.”

    -

    Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems, - that hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite, - assuming they don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the - fun..

    -

    Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so - lets bring the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a - lead on this with this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take - the risk. I won’t run from this fight, my uncle sure as hell - wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out with a magnificient bang. - Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.

    -

    Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another - hideout in the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild. - It’s a little risky to head out that way, but none of my - Zabbix alerts indicate it was compromised. It has automated - IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe enough in there once - we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone comes for us, - and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We should - bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the - duck.

    -

    Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best - if you got the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe, - and I don’t want to see you become collateral here. Head down - to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 meet you there, he’ll help you - and your family lay low until all of this blows over.”

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as - well do as Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks - away, and turtle soup is really out of fashion these - days.”

    -

    Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning - about fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap - carrier draped in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you - don’t mind if I bring along a guest as well.”

    -

    The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse, - with transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured - by sliding shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a - woven, web-like pattern and adorned with a string of feathers - hangs from one side. On the opposite side is a double door - with a miniature knob over each door. Inky lightly taps on one - of the doors, and at a low click coming from within in - response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps - to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside. - The bird opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly - across the occupants in the room before dozing off again.

    -

    “This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain - shared connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I - asked their caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko - will accompany me for the ritual. Her brother is at another - location and can send a message if a need arises.” Inky - explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a minor - indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle - owls, are very good at negotiating with those of the - ravens.”

    -

    They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little - temperamental, but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse - doors, Inky turns back to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather - not reveal the location of your hideout to any more people - than necessary. Her carrier will remain covered on the way in - and out.”

    -
    -

    Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in - shadow, far from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of - funerals. Often under these very circumstances, in fact. And - he always keeps his distance out of respect.

    -

    For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and - trousers. And his bright red colors would be a sign of - disrespect among the mourners. Secondly and most importantly, - he himself is the one who put the man in the ground.

    -

    Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the - sysorcer. Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for - him. When he realized that one of the agents had been in - contact with the melon vendor, he knew that Popplewick could - and would identify the warpwefter if pressured.

    -

    Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon - vendor. Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from - the Cinderlands, his family came to Vay’Nullar following the - Artifice Wars when he was just a boy. He grew up poor, and - often relied on the generosity of others. But eventually he - was able to support himself and his small family. He was proud - of the life he had built.

    -

    So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one - night when Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the - assassin slipped a bag over his head and dragged him into a - dark alley. He cinched the bag tight, cutting off his air. - There was a brief struggle before Popplewick passed out and - Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him there, - unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took - but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.

    -

    Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until - only the widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her - chest. “Oh, Pepo,” she whispers to the headstone. “What can I - do now?”

    -

    When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She - meanders slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the - graveyard and down the hill. She steps into the wood. A flash - of red follows her at a distance.

    -

    She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the - child down on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at - her with solemn eyes. “I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to - the child. And that is all the explanation it gets.

    -

    She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her - go.

    -

    When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps - out of the shadows and crouches down beside the child. It - looks up and reaches for him. “Look at you,” he says to the - child as he scoops it up. “Who would throw you away? A - perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. “A - sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come, - Rind, we have work to do.”

    -

    The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the - city.

    -

    ~

    -

    In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They - clearly struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for - Popplewick’s death and the widow’s weakness.

    -

    Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and - awkwardly turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears - the latch with a faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle - against the heavy iron door, pushing it slowly open, inch by - inch. A mechanism clicks inside and there is a whoosh of air - and then a boom as the bunker violently ignites. The tiny - figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer - tunnel.

    -

    Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and - crouches down by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered - and burned bundle of cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small - child standing at his elbow. “You must always acknowledge and - be grateful for those who sacrifice for you.” He starts to - untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It unfurls and - smooths out and stitches itself back together under his touch. - Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again - holding his red sash.

    -

    “Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s - hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage - here.”

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -
      -
    • The time of the ritual is at hand.
      • -
    • What final preparations do you make before entering - Dreamspace?
      • -
    - ]]> -     -     - - 58 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 58 - Sat, 21 Jan 2023 16:24:45 --0700 - Sun, 29 Jan 2023 11:02:32 -0700 - - 00058 -
    -

    (A week prior)

    -

    The secretary collected the stack of papers that had - accumulated at one corner of the desk. “This might help,” she - said, setting down a bundle of herbs with white and pink - flowers in place of the papers.

    -

    Inky stared at the blooms, hands stilled over the owl’s - plumage. “Oh! Thanks. Good thinking, really. It’ll help make - the stench more bearable when they find the remains.”

    -

    The grey elf was confused for a moment, then mortified as - the words sank in. “That’s not what I meant! It’s for the - circle,” she clarified.

    -

    Seeing the imp’s preoccupied nod, she coughed lightly to - regain their attention, then spoke in a hushed voice. - “Beaker’s associates have picked up the empanada shop - proprietor and transported him to an undisclosed location. - There will be a retinue with him at all times.”

    -

    Inky seemed to visibly pull themselves back to the room - before responding, “Thank you, Salvia. One more thing — if I - do not return by the indicated time, please activate the - hitsuzen protocol. As precaution.”

    -

    The secretary looked at Inky in concern. “Is everything all - right? If you’re still troubled by the hotelier, accidents - happen. A single incident—”

    -

    “Third. An unidentified man was attacked at the docks. He - was probably sent to investigate the melon vendor. One of the - other stall owners heard him asking questions shortly after - the melon vendor disappeared.”

    -

    Salvia’s violet eyes narrowed. “What, the fruit vendor? - Didn’t the tabloids say it was an accident? He tried to get - rid of a neighbor’s nest of snakes.”

    -

    Inky only raised an eyebrow at her.

    -

    The secretary let out a low curse. “You didn’t tell her. - You didn’t want her to worry,” she said aloud in realization. - She sighed. “She’s going to be pretty angry with you when she - finds out, you know.”

    -

    Inky offered her a sardonic smile. “Making people angry is - my job. You of all people know this well. In the event of my - timely demise I’m sure the others would find it cause for a - grand celebration.” They replied matter-of-factly before - returning to smoothing the feathers of one bird wing.

    -

    Salvia shook her head vehemently. “That’s not true. You’ll - make it back, Ink. What then—”

    -

    “Then our fair Lady’s ire would be the least of the - problems.”

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Alex stared morosely into his cup of coffee. He’d received - word of agent 5’s demise that morning, and had been the only - thing on his mind since. 5, no Be’tram knew the risks, we all - knew the risks defying HQ brought, but to happen so suddenly? - He’d snuck down to the wharf once he’d heard, making sure to - cover his tracks and dodge any potential witnesses. He even - managed to slip past the police cordon they’d setup around the - body. What he’d found wasn’t pretty, it looked like Be’Tram - had suffered in his final moments. The bruising around his - neck pointed to strangulation, with some sort of cloth, - perhaps a rope. The bruising was deep, and there wasn’t a cut, - burn, shot or something of the likes on his otherwise.

    -

    The kill had been intimate.

    -

    Alex had worked quickly that night, popping Be’Tram’s eye - had been hard, but he’d of wanted Alex to have it. Behind his - right eye was a recording device, it could only catch the last - 15m or so of what he had seen, but it would give him a clear - look at what had happened. And potentially lead Alex to the - killer. Miserable business, but Be’Tram knew it could make a - difference.

    -

    Alex had planted a bomb on the body after he had extracted - the eye, and made his way well away from the area before it - went off obliterating the remains. A regrettable end for an - old friend, but it was too dangerous to leave.

    -

    And then there was the matter of the zabbix alert, a little - purple red critical for the sewer hideout. He’d had time to - send out a drone beetle. The smoldering slag that was left was - reassuring. Most of the equipment was utterly destroyed, racks - upon racks of servers reduced to twisted melted metal. The - effectively of the destruction was delightful, in a sick sort - of desperate way. Alex felt assured that most if not all of - the equipment was useless, but this spelled the end of a - valuable listening outpost. And whoever had done it wasn’t - part of the slag pile.

    -

    Alex stood up, his coffee untouched. The cafe around his - burbled in quiet excitement. The city had lit up since the - Melon vendor’s death. A thousand rumors abounded about it, but - none of them held true; some said the city had become - dangerous, a crime syndicate had arisen in the neighboring - city block another thought, and did you hear about the - explosion at the wharf the other night, the city was electric, - yet somehow ever so slightly off the pulse of the issue.

    -

    As Alex stepped away a woman with horn rimmed glasses - strode past the table he had just abandoned, deftly pulling - the note from beneath the coffee cup, left for her.

    - 
    4 -> 3
-Daylight breaks on the morrow
-The suns rays make chase
-casting soft cloth
-across the nap of nature's neck
-
-So, night relents and gives way
-biding time until
-it can rule
-in its own domain
    -

    For the passerby, it was but a bit of poetry, scribbled - carelessly on the back of a napkin in a coffee near the wharf. - But for Agent 3 it was a warning, one part notes on Agent 5s - demise recovered from his eyecam, one part orders; stay low - and we’ll strike these bastards from the shadows, on our - terms, on our ground. Similar missives were delivered to - Agents 6 & 7. The numbers were dwindling rapidly, even - just one agent lost was hard to stomach.

    -

    Alex hand gripped the pistol in his coat pocket with a - white knuckled grip as he stepped from the coffee shop into - the city. Whatever was after him, whatever had gotten to - Be’Tram, it had better know he was coming, and he’d happily - send it straight to hell. HQ be damned, the rules be damned, - this little game of cat and mouse had just gotten - personal.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Alex, Inky, Confidence, Bread, and Agent 7 find themselves - in a dark backroom in a secluded corner of an old fish - processing plant on the wharf. The accommodations are rough, - and the stench is abhorrent, but it’s the best that could be - procured in a pinch. And it should provide enough - seclusion.

    -

    The backroom is like that of many factories, high up near - the ceiling, a single rusty rickety staircase winds its way - along the side of the building for what seems to be 3 flights, - before it reaches a metal room with dusty grimy windows, and a - single steel door. The windows on the interior overlook the - fish processing plant, where rows of belts and machinery stand - still, covered in dust and long forgotten blood. You’re glad - to know that the factory stopped operating years ago, hygiene - is lacking in every sense.

    -

    Alex stares forlornly out the exterior windows, the sky is - a grey overcast, it matches his mood perfectly. He didn’t like - what him and Inky were about to do, but they didn’t have much - they could do about it. They would be vulnerable for the - duration of the ritual. But Agent 7 and Confidence were there - to help mitigate that risk. Alex and Agent 7 had taken every - precaution they could think of.

    -

    The plant floor was scattered with booby traps, trip wires, - and alarms. The other agents were laying low, but kept drones - around the wharf feeding in a network of twtxt data back to - Agent 7 for recon. And that was on top of the double barred - steel doors, and reinforced glass box they’d chosen as their - hide out. Meticulously planned, Alex expected no less from - Agent 7.

    -

    See Marvelo had been at this as long as Alex had, and then - some. He was sharp as a tack, with an animal-like third sense - that came from years of close calls. He was, simply put, the - right man for the job, when that job was keeping your - unconscious ass alive.

    -

    Alex turns away from the window and addresses Inky. - “Apologies for the smell, it turns out there’s a strong - correlation between disgust and seclusion, but I believe we - should at least be safe here. Safer than we would have been - back home. I’m ready if you are, as ready as I’ll ever be that - is.”

    -
    -

    The Golden Iris have summoned you to appear at the Harpoon - Club this evening. But the Harpoon Club is nowhere to be found - on this plane of existence. It won’t appear until a week and a - half from now, on the last day of the month.

    -

    Confidence the Guide has predicted exactly where the - Wandering Bazaar will be on that day. With a small bucket of - red paint and a large brush, he has drawn a Linking Sigil on - the ground at the location. He sits nearby, making sure - careless passersby and mischievous kids don’t disturb it, but - otherwise letting the sigil absorb the energies of the bustle - of shopping and commerce.

    -

    At the fish market, Marvelo is posted outside. He keeps - vigilant watch, alert to every movement and disturbance.

    -

    And inside, Bread, Inky, Fuko, and Alex are huddled up in - the office in the back near the ceiling. They all sit inside a - dark circle that has been smudged on the floor with a paste - made of ash and salt. Painted on the ground is a second - Linking Sigil, connecting this spot to Confidence’s, allowing - the energies of the two locations to co-mingle. There is also - the Dream Sigil, which will connect this place to the - Dreaming.

    -

    Bread the Host is propped up on some pillows and cushions - in the center of the circle, next to the Nyxmaer. The candle - is alleged to be made of the flesh and fat of a certain - nightmare. Its hand and eye bound in the wax. The Dream Sigil - is the door, but the Nyxmaer is the key. The catalyst that - will cause all of the otherwise inert metaphysical particles - to become volatile and reactive. It is what will allow you to - actually pass over and arrive on the shores of the Sea of - Dreams.

    -

    Per the shop witch’s instructions, the Nyxmaer has been - placed on a thin, hard tin plate. As the candle burns, the wax - will soften and eventually allow the large metal nail in its - side to fall. When it strikes the plate, you will awaken, - exiting the Dreaming. You expect hours may pass in the realm - of sleep. But only about thirty minutes will pass here.

    -

    Inky and Alex sit inside the circle, near the perimeter, - facing Bread in the center. Fuko the owl sits at Inky’s - side.

    -

    It is dim. You are illuminated by mundane, non-magical - candles set around the edges of the circle. Outside, a steady - rain beats on the roof and the windows of the building. The - smell of fish is faint but ever-present. A constant reminder - of the small creatures that have left their bodies in a - fashion far more permanent and irreversible than the - separation of spirit and body you are about to experience. You - hope.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -
      -

    • How do you induce a deep and powerful slumber in - Bread?

      • -

    • What shape or form will you take when you arrive in the - Dreaming?

      • -

    • What are you secretly worried or hopeful about being - exposed in the dreamland, the realm of metaphor?

      • -
    - ]]> -     -     55 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index 170579e..e524465 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -322,6 +322,7 @@ Master
  • 00059
  • 00060
  • 00061
    • +
  • 00062
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -361,11 +362,11 @@ Teale

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 79424 words / 339 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 80256 words / 342 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 213 messages posted over 208 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.02.

    +

    There have been 217 messages posted over 215 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.

    @@ -7215,6 +7216,95 @@ under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of Dreams.

    You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon you.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    00062

    +
    +

    One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch +Avenue. In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles +a canoe painted with long stripes of yellow and white with deep brown +swipes. The s’more interior padding is soft, yet with the suppleness of +fruit leather. A few round, matching brown mini-cushions are strewn +across the boat interior. Also in the boat are two silver spoon paddles, +more for looks than cooks.

    +

    They don’t know where the boat came from. Things just appear. Like +that Red Squirrel. Inky moves to holler a greeting, but instead +recites:

    +
    "sgb rpthqqbk hr qba sgb fgnrsr dktb
+sgb qnkkr rwbbs uma rn uqb ynt
+sgnt uqs ly fthahmf rsuq ul h sghmb
+h rbb vbqhky ly utrohehntr rhfm
+sgb kns wur snrra uma sgbm h aqbw
+uma cnqstmb ruha hs rgnta db ynt ott"[1]
+
+[1]:
+"The squirrel is red, the ghost's blue,
+The roll's sweet, and so are you.
+Thou art my guiding star, am I thine?
+I see verily my auspicious sign:
+The lot was toss'd and then I drew,
+And Fortune said it shou'd be you. Puu."
    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    While Inky boards her banana boat and recites poetry to the maddened +squirrel, Alex springs to action leaping blithely from the branch +towards the squirrel. Beneath him manifests a cockpit, sleek and +futuristic. Around this materializes a large robotic weapon, octopus-oid +in shape. The many tentacles bristle with weapons both fearsome and +deadly.

    +

    Alex grabs the controls, in one tentacle he latches onto the banana +boat, that way he won’t accidentally get separated from Inky. With the +other seven a series of feathers appear in every brilliant hue. The +tentacle attached to the boat unfurls allowing Alex to draw closer to +the squirrel. As the gap closes the most intense tickle fight the dream +world has ever seen ensues, bringing joyous laughter to the faces of +many.

    +

    “Inky, if we need to get out of here, just jet it! That tentacle will +yank the control pod and me with it!”

    +
    +

    Alex basically becomes a Mech pilot, and confronts the Red Squirrel +head on with the Octopod.

    +

    You engage in the tickle fight to end all tickle fights!

    +

    Its eight arms are more than a match for the squirrels eight legs. +You have the advantage of reach, entanglement, and sucker pads. It +struggles in your grasp, gnashing its terrible teeth, but cannot reach +you. Its long tail whips around ineffectively, battering you softly.

    +

    The agitated squirrel squeals and swells like a red balloon. The +mech’s tentacles struggle to contain it. Just as the strain on the +machine is about to become unbearable, the rodent violently deflates. It +collapses in on itself with such ferocity that it turns itself inside +out. The octopod, all tangled up in the collapsing squirrel, is pulled +along as it folds in on itself until it becomes a hungry void the size +of a marble, floating in space and sucking at the air.

    +

    Inky watches from the banana boat as Alex and the squirrel disappear +from the Silver Forest. The squirrel portal finally closes in on itself, +severing the banana boat from the octopus mecha at the last possible +second. Inky on this side. Alex on the other.

    +

    Alex, you and the wreckage of the octopod are vomited out onto a +sandy beach. Red mist and vapors dissipate from your entry point. Before +you is a vast ocean, lapping lazily at the beach. The shoreline extends +endlessly in both directions. Behind you are endless sand dunes. Though +there is no sun, the sky seems to hover at sunset, all brilliant, +swirling oranges and purples.

    +

    A lone humanoid figure can be seen standing atop a nearby dune. It is +tall. It has legs like a goat or fawn, and a paunchy belly. Its long +neck protrudes into a kind of trunk that eventually folds over and hangs +down in front of the creature, about chest height. It terminates in a +smooth, round nub. No face. It wears a small satchel at its hip, its +strap slung over one shoulder and across its chest. Its long arms hand +loosely at its sides. Despite the lack of a face and any sensory organs, +it seems to be watching you. Slowly, it descends the dune and starts +walking toward you. It reaches into its satchel and draws a long, sharp +knife as it approaches.

    +

    Inky, you are in the banana boat in the Silver Forest. The turtle +that was a chipmunk has holed up in its shell, effectively just a sticky +bun.

    +

    “You wanted to see me,” intones a slightly muffled voice behind you. +A statement, not a question. You turn to see a figure cloaked in shadows +and demons. They wear a domed helmet of black obsidian glass, flashes of +rainbow colored light crackling along the inside illuminating very +little of the smoke-filled interior.

    +

    “What is it you seek from Dude 215R?”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    @@ -7655,7 +7745,7 @@ godhood they can deliver to her the Quintessence
  • Blavin double agent with Golden Iris
  • BATT wants to preserve the timeline
    • -
  • Felixe and Corraidhin
    • +
  • Felixe and Corraidhin, show up in the dreaming

    • NAMES AND NPCS

    Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters

    @@ -7663,9 +7753,6 @@ they can deliver to her the Quintessence
  • Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit
    • -
  • Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time -lord https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jorunna_parva
  • zai-ni (zine)
  • zeyeknee (zine)
  • standard ed
    • @@ -7683,6 +7770,9 @@ class="uri">https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png
  • corn smut? - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut
    • +
  • Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time +lord https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jorunna_parva
  • harrowkrake
  • time swallows: It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most widespread