5.3 KiB
| title | created | updated | syndicated | public |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 00047 | Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54 -0700 | Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700 | yes | yes |
00047
Damn it! I should've left the little goblin in the balloon, this could get tricky..
Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates his next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can probably yeet the middlemost one away from the group into the left most pirate. Best case this sends both of them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst case it just slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this gives me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the right most pirate with Uncle's dagger. I've got to sever each connection point between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and easy as flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should do it..
Jumping immediately to action Alex casts
yeet.middle_cyberplasm()sending the middle pirate into the left most pirate away from the hemogoblin while he dashes forward to take the third right most pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut to the left arm.
You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your prepared incantation. It's comforting sometimes to peer behind the veil and see the world through this lens. It's so simple. The separation of self and other is an illusion: everything is just a table. The concept of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent everything from happening all at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It's all really quite elegant.
Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the
railing. It's not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to
kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look
down at it in confusion just as the yeet happens, and they knock
into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its
balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over
the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts
between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then
slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and
it too tips over the railing.
The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost Cyberplasm. "Gotcha, you little ... ugh! What ..." The pirate is starting to regret snatching up the little furball, which is defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make your first slice into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate turns toward you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the ghostly energies.
As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.
The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.
Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and mouths with them while they perform the action themselves to demonstrate.
Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the contents, opens the door just wide enough to slide the metal box through to one side of the door a few paces away.
A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of the cyberplasmic apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on the floor.
Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and the lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think possible, the hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans with frustration as even the short distance between it and the hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke screen. The hotelier wisely doesn't make a sound as he disappears from view.
Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.
WHAT DO YOU DO