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Post by Veliky on Nov 30, 2022 21:00:57 GMT -5
Cheche's every fugitive snivel rings as a separate mistake in Veliky's mind. They come from the same place, wherever that place may be, and yet the guilt of causation ripples each and every time. Veliky has never dealt well with these things; she fared unwell with Astrid's and, when they rear their ugly heads, she fares unwell with her own. She shouldn't have come back for Cheche; she should've known it would end like this.
Only... it doesn't end like that. Not quite yet. Veliky's eyes are drawn by an unexpected silence - a lull in the tears - up to Cheche's soft, warm face; to her soft, warm stare. Even in this place of untamed wonder, Veliky hasn't seen something so mystical as a smile through tears. It sends a strange mix of emotions through her chest: a ball of anxiety and lingering guilt, but also lighter emotions that she's far less familiar with. It aches like an oversized bite of sandwich.
Then, Cheche wipes her tears away and walks through that firelit doorway. Somehow, the awkwardness of the whole affair is the thing that finally eases Veliky's mind - and causes that ball of emotion to him in a way that's as unfamiliar as it is pleasant. 'Stop that,' she thinks, as if it might hear her, let alone that it might obey. It does neither, and follows her rather dutifully into the house.
As if this day weren't perplexing enough. Now, Veliky is faced with architecture more strange and wonderful than anything her engineers have devised - less structurally stable and technologically innovative, to be certain, but far more whimsical. The way the furniture blends with the walls, with one-another... If The Gnome were here, she'd have a field day. Even Veliky, not usually an inspirable type, finds herself wondering. Could technology somehow replicate this magic?
"Amazing!"
Cheche's exclamation is both confusing and... well, adorable.
"You mean you haven't seen this befo-?"
Veliky doesn't get the chance to voice her skepticism before she's assailed with a quilt - the same she'd worn before. In such short time, the little blanket's traded hands more times than a copper. Veliky doesn't mind, though; there's something rewarding about having a kindness returned in... well, kind. That is, she doesn't mind until Cheche begins tugging at the corners, pampering Veliky like a kid. It reminds her of her mother, which only accentuates the embarrassment - the embarrassment which she has not a moment to voice before Cheche is bounding and bouncing about.
If Veliky is being honest, which she isn't, she'd voice a returning skepticism. Such a sudden, inexplicable rebound from Cheche's previous sorrow; had the sorrow been real at all, or some sort of ploy to win sympathy? If it was, then it worked.
Veliky steps forward, only to inhale sharply in start when her foot meets a peculiar texture on the pseudo-carpet. It isn't an unknown feeling; in fact, it's the surprising familiarity that bewilders her so. It really does feel like pumpkin. She's yanked back to her home village, to the pumpkins they used to grow around the Black Harvest, to the gutting and deseeding and the roasting of said seeds. Cinnamon, sugar; snacking by a fireplace after getting caught in the rain... It's a pleasant memory. But it's interlaced with far worse ones. It's not a pleasant recollection.
...Does this pumpkin have seeds? Goodness, they'd be as big as Veliky's own head if it did.
She walks forward again. The smell is aggressively pumpkin. The feeling is perplexingly pumpkin. She can even taste the pumpkin if she closes her eyes. But, aside from the pumpkin being so unapologetically pumpkin, it isn't a bad place. It's warm enough that she no longer shivers, and the furniture's sized for people of her stature. She wouldn't mind staying here for the night if it comes to that.
With the quilt, she wipes her head and hair until she's achieved a modicum of dryness. By the time she's finished, Cheche's already made her way upstairs.
"Veliky? Come look at it!"
The voice draws Veliky's eyes to the ceiling's aperture.
"Hm? What's up?"
'What's up?' The phrase leaves a bitter taste on her own tongue. For a moment, she'd forgotten that Cheche is a pixie of the Sylvan realms, not a colleague or employee or mercenary or anyone else with whom it'd be fitting to use phrases like 'What's up?' The fey probably doesn't even know what it means. But oh, well; what's done is done.
She tosses the quilt onto a nearby chair before following the spiral path up the spiral staircase. She peeks her head into the tower-room, where Cheche now peers and marvels at the carved shelves. But Veliky's attention is drawn more by the bunkbed. So this house was made for two. How... convenient? Did the seed somehow know that two would be staying here?
With a hint of hesitation, she treads, and takes a seat on the lower bunk, bouncing slightly and in spite of her attempt to be subtle. There was a time when she shared a bunk with her mother, making the fixture a point of familiarity. She always had the lower bunk; her mother was afraid that she'd fall and hurt herself if she stayed in the upper one. This mindset persisted, even as 'little' Veliky approached her 20s. Another strange memory to be reminded of, here.
And she listened to Cheche's marvelling, for a time. Despite living here, Cheche seems even more mystified than Veliky. And what's this about a card game? Surely, she doesn't mean...?
"Um... Yeah." She looks along the strange patterns in the walls and ceiling (although, it's difficult to tell where the former ends and the latter begins). She can faintly see where lines correspond with ribs on the great pumpkin's exterior. "It's a decent place. Must be nice to have a portable house."
In her wanderings, she finds herself looking out the round, posted window. There's no glass; it must get cold at night. Or maybe it has a covering of some kind, like the casements in the village houses. Nevertheless, it's a tempting sight. She leans over, resting her arm on the rounded sill, to peer outside, at the cave and the stalagmites. It's the window's own light that spills out, warming the stone and casting shadows on the walls... It's so mundane, such a simple interaction of light and darkness, yet it fills Veliky with a sense of wonder. Maybe it's exactly that - maybe it's how real it is that amazes her, bedazzling where a dream would only confuse.
If only she could capture this feeling, put it in a bottle. She'd label it something like 'Miracle,' and sell it to the masses. They'd store them on little shelves, like the ones Cheche now ogles, and keep them for whenever they might need that feeling again. She'd make a fortune...
But, then, maybe people would just grow tired of them. Yes. It'd become the new 'thing' for a while, and then it'd be forgotten. She's seen it before: brilliant new flavours of Blixt™, celebrated by the masses, only to lose momentum like a ball at the bottom of a hill. A fad. And maybe she'd forget, too, after a fashion. But even the forgotten leaves a mark, doesn't it?
...
She looks back - not enough to see Cheche, but enough to be known. A stray strand of hair glides along her cheek.
"I'm sorry if I've seemed... oseur... hostile, at times. It's just that... your people are the things that *my* people told stories about. We even had name for them: enandaleo - 'fairy stories.' Meeting you in person has been strange. I don't really know how to-"
She's interrupted by a loud, odd, gross and all-too familiar sound: a growl that reverberates from deep within her stomach. She freezes, mortified. In hindsight, she hasn't eaten in... how long? Is it noon, yet? She definitely hasn't eaten lunch. Or breakfast. Or yesterday's dinner. Or yesterday's lunch. Strange how easy it is for her to forget such things when she's on a tight schedule. And she doesn't mind; she'd go longer if she had to. She just wishes it hadn't culminated so embarrassingly, in front of an adorable pixie.
She's glad to still be looking away, else Cheche would see that her face is awash with red.
"Uh... Do you have any food, here?"
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Post by Miosh on Dec 6, 2022 22:07:48 GMT -5
Now, that she heard the question, she couldn't help but wonder: how could it possibly be that the thought had never crossed her mind? Was it because she was too overwhelmed with everything that happened to her up til that moment? Or was it Blixt TM that helped her not to feel the pangs of hunger? Anyways, the question was there, hanging in the warm air of the pumpkin house and it required an answer. She looked around: everything was made of pumpkin, everything was a pumpkin. She approached the bed and reached out for the pillow on the upper bunk. It was soft and tender to the touch, definitely a good material to sleep on, but how about its gastronomic qualities? Cheche tried biting off a piece from the corner of the pillow. It took her some timу and effort, however, she succeeded. And yet, the tiny piece she had managed to retrieve just didn't taste right. It was too bland. Or rather...strangely inedible. That revelation produced an effect similar to a bucket of cold water poured on one's head. Her perfect dream, her hedonistic heaven had just got shuttered.
She took a handkerchief and spit it out - an blasphemy, she would never even think of doing to the food she ate. Then she hurried downstairs and rummaged through the lockers in the kitchen. Nothing. The house was livable but not edible.
She looked back to where Veliky was and sighed, shaking her head as she answered.
- No, there's nothing here.- she pouted, casting the last glance of disappointment at the shiny surfaces of the table and armchairs. How would she love to nibble on them! Alas, they had to look somewhere else. Truth to be said, she started feeling anxious. Their situation wasn't grim. Cheche's kind had an ability to find provision anywhere, a little spell that adults taught their children. You could get a small amount of food summoned from your surroundings. Yet, it wasn't much, merely enough for one to consume. And. There was another important condition: in order to get some food, there SHOULD be some food around in the first place. Nothing could be created out of nothing. She looked out of the window locking her eyes on the fluorescent mushrooms in the distance. Cheche uttered the words of the spell and waited, hoping with all her heart she would feel a familiar tug inside her mind. The spell lacked the anticipated grandeur and splendor of magic. It simply provided a pixie with knowledge of where the nearest edible object is. After a brief moment, it came. She felt all the tension leaving her. Waves of radiance quickly passed through her wings as she turned. Cheche found Veliky's eyes and smiled with some confidence.
- I have a strong feeling we can find something in that direction. There, - she pointed at the mushroom trees once more - you see? Would you like to go explore a bit?- and soon after she added with worry:
-Do you feel any better now? I can go by myself and be right back if you do!
Spell "Create food"
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Post by Veliky on Dec 13, 2022 0:10:27 GMT -5
'Stunned' is a word for it. The moment that Cheche grabbed a pillow from the upper bunk and *took a bite out of it* was, by no coincidence, the same moment that Veliky had a thought: 'Oh, I'm dreaming.' Yes, that'd be a reasonable explanation; back at that clearing, she'd just been about to fall asleep when she inexplicably fell into a hole and encountered a pixie from another world. Yes, the only reasonable explanation is that she fell asleep on that stump and has merely dreamt of mosaic-winged pixies, bouncy mushrooms and pumpkin-houses.
If that's the case, if this is a dream - then she should stop dawdling and do something with this opportunity! She dreams often and, when she does, these dreams usually fall into one of three categories: fantastical adventures in which she journeys to mystical realms (the good dreams); mundane chores in which she calculates taxes, writes letters and doles out pay checks (the simple, but enjoyable dreams); and the ones that she'd rather not recall (the nightmares), from which even awakening entails no freedom. Given what she's seen thus far, this one would appear to be one of the good dreams. Only...
No, that's not it. Normally, when she realizes that she's dreaming, things change; she suddenly feels more in control of her environment. But, here, things are still the same. And besides, she's still wearing the same clothes, she's still subconsciously engaging in mental math and she's still making the same silly mistakes. She's still Veliky; it can't be one of those dreams.
There's a frown on Veliky's face, but she hides it when Cheche returns to the upper gourd. She's no longer quite shocked, but the confused curiosity does linger in her mind: 'Why did Cheche try to eat a pillow? Is this a cultural thing? Sure, it might've been edible, but isn't there some Common saying about having your pumpkin and eating it, too?'
She's removed from her bafflement by the shimmer of Cheche's wings. They never fail to enthral her; glimmering as they do, it's nearly impossible to pay attention to anything else. It'd actually make a decent distraction on the battlefield... Then again, the thought of this bouncing pixie on any sort of battlefield is as silly as it is deplorable. Either way, it might be best for Veliky not to voice her questions.
Veliky watches as Cheche moseys to the round, little window and points to something in the distance. She crawls up, beside Cheche, huddling and peeking just over the sill. She *thinks* she can just about see something.
"Those mushrooms? The... glowing ones?" she skeptically asks. Phosphorescence isn't normally associated with edibility. Well, then again, some flavours of Blixt™ glow twice as bright; whether this is an indication to eat the mushrooms or to refrain from drinking Blixt™ is a dilemma that Veliky wouldn't address without a lawyer on hand. Still, her tone and expression sulk in acquiescence. "Alright. Hm?"
Her sylvan host's concern catches her off guard. She would've gone in a heartbeat, but, now that Cheche mentions it -
"Well, I am a little tired," she casually admits.
Strange though this house may be, it's rather cozy once she gets over the smell and the associated feelings, from which Cheche herself is a decent distraction. In fact, therein lies something of a conundrum: Veliky would prefer to stay here, but only if Cheche's also present, but they can't both stay.
At least, this would be a conundrum for someone less resourceful than Veliky.
"But I have a better idea. Watch this."
With a certain overstated confidence, Veliky stands up, stamping her feet on the gourdish floor, and raises her right hand. "Replicate," she says, for no apparent reason, but an air of purpose. Suddenly, a circle of arcane blue appears on the back of her hand, surrounding a pictograph of a humanoid silhouette. Then, she turns her hand around and snaps her fingers, at which point something begins to materialize beside her! It forms from nothingness, out of patches of mana that slowly fill with colour like dye on cloth. It has gloved hands, strong boots, a cute little face... it's a second Veliky[1]!
The first Veliky gestures to her creation with a hint of pride. Only, the clone itself does not appear terribly impressed; in fact, it seems to be glaring at the original.
But Veliky either doesn't notice this distaste or simply doesn't care, going on to say "This replicant can forage while we stay here: arcane convenience at its finest."
"Seh rir faa, peut. (Convenient for you, maybe.)" the clone comments. Fully capable of both speech and sass, it would seem.
1. Replicant
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Post by Miosh on Dec 19, 2022 3:14:41 GMT -5
The Age of Progress, 15250, Gēolmōnað, 19th, Vespers.
Dear Diary, can't wait to tell you what happened today! At Matins our little forest got invaded by hordes of awful metal golems, them be a legion. They ravished the groves and harassed the little critters and animals inhabiting them. The air was filled with silent cries of the mushroom trees, silent to those whose ears are deaf, that is. Each time a trunk fell down I heard a sigh, and those sighs were simply unbearable!
Oh, Diary Dear, I've met a girl! She is as fair and delicate as a hyacinth, and she never seizes to surprise me! I think, Veliky (that's her name!) also ran away from those bully cans, the poor child fell down the wormhole, but luckily was unscathed! Dear Diary, you know, she's also very smart! She helped us both to escape once the unholy creatures had caught on to us! I don't always understand what she says or why her mood changes so much, but she's lovely non less. I hope we can become great friends!....
...At None we have planted our first pumpkin cottage. That simple thing almost brought me to tears, thanks Solaria, she didn't notice. I don't want to come across as a wimpy pixie. Also, am I not an adventurer ?!? Adventurers don't cry, right? But still, never have I thought the day would come when I will invite friends over, even if for a day, even if the house is actually a gourd.
Ah, I'm getting emotional again...
....Dear Diary!!!! Just now something absolutely mindblowing has happened! Veliky and I were thinking of where to get some food from. The granny's spell didn't fail me, pointing at some mouthwatering mushrooms, not far from the cottage. The problem was, how to fetch them since Veliky already looked so tired! I'd gladly go myself, but the very moment I was about to suggest that, she stood up, raised her hand, and said something like "Reverberate!"...no "Reincarnate!", "reduplicate!"??... She said an ancient magic word, yes. And then a fancy blue circle appeared, just like the ones Duke Grunnerdoth used to order from the elf mages to liven up his parties, but much, much, much more fascinating! And there, in the heart of it, stood another Veliky!!!! Oh, Dear Diary, I am absolutely sure my mouth was gaping, I thought I'd die due to cuteness overload. What even was that? Her twin sister? I need to ask Veliky, but it's sort of personal, right? What if she doesn't want to talk about her family? For now, she is walking around, examining the details of the house. Did I tell you she's very inquisitive too? No wonder she's so smart! Oh..she has noticed me. I have to finish here, all the best will share more of my experiences tomorrow.
Cheche Siofra,
the PP, and PO.
XOXOXOXOXXO
Cheche quickly closes her secret book and tries to casually slip it into the satchel, without Veliky noticing. Surprisingly, it takes some effort, maybe because she hears the footsteps of her friend and her hands are slightly shaking. After all, if Veliky reads any of it, Cheche would definitely perish of embarrassment.
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Post by Veliky on Dec 24, 2022 16:05:14 GMT -5
A forest consisting entirely of fungus; a house made of pumpkin; magic so otherworldly that it made her question reality; foraging for dubious mushrooms; hiding from her own Blixtbots™: if Veliky were to count the peculiarities of this situation on one hand, she'd run out of fingers before she even reached the fact that, right now, she's standing not two yards away from a real-life pixie. Normally, she'd be trying to learn as much as she can about this strange person she's just met, but she hardly knows where to begin. What's Cheche doing, anyway? Veliky could've sworn that she saw the pixie - this otherworldly being of cherubic beauty - hastily hide something, in some sort of timid panic. Something about her body language gives Veliky a an all-too ordinary sense of secondhand embarrassment, like she just walked in on something. Something else about it raises a question in Veliky's mind.
And so she regards Cheche with a bit of skepticism before retaking her seat on the lower bunk. The fluster from before having completely vanished, there's a certain unapologetic coolness in her aura - one that makes her question chill like the first frost of Winter.
"You said you're from another world? A síogaí?" Neutral, like her expression. "What did you do before coming here, then? Did you have a job, or..." Her trailing silence speaks to infinite possible, unspoken questions, reflecting Veliky's truly uncertain understanding of Cheche's home realm.
"A job? Hmmm, yes, we could say that. Although I am the granddaughter of the second clan chief, I don...I didn't have any honorable duties, yet I had to perform the responsibilities of a scout. I had to regularly travel around the lands of our folk, make notes of anything that differs from what is due and report my findings to the council." Granddaughter of the chief? 'Chief...' she's heard this word used to describe the leaders of the tribes in King's Valley. So the Síogaí live a tribal lifestyle? Neverminding that, does this mean Cheche's a form of royalty? A bit of surprise plays across Veliky's face.
"We long since had suspicions that something is rotten in the state of Síogaí..."
Rotten? Is she talking about some sort of government corruption? No: that's a subject for spies, not scouts. Something more literal, maybe, like a plague?
"That... sounds important." Despite her hesitation, she isn't being dishonest; without knowing the meaning of Cheche's words, sound is all she has to judge.
Maybe she can ask for clarification later. As she trails her eyes along the peculiar patterns of the bouncy floor, a more gnawing question floats in her mind.
"You said you came here on accident, but you've made this place your home... Have you thought about finding a way back?"
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Post by Miosh on Jan 5, 2023 22:07:38 GMT -5
"You said you came here on accident, but you've made this place your home... Have you thought about finding a way back?"
That was one good question to ask. Countless times had she lifted her head towards the alien sky, looking for familiar constellations. Countless times she had given up with a sigh. Countless times had she turned around, alarmed by a sound or a glimpse, expecting to see familiar faces, to hear familiar speech. Truth be told, there was not much of a story to share, not much of a secret either, but would Veliky listen? And more importantly, would it make any sense for her? Cheche hesitated for a moment. There was something about Veliky, that made Cheche think she'd probably understand. She had already noticed that Veliky was a very good listener. That gave Cheche hope. And so, slowly, pausing at times, fiddling with the rim of her sleeve, she told her all.
She told that the world she came from is very old, but creatures who leave there are eternally young. She told about huge forests and mighty roaring rivers. About the magic saturating each and every bush, each blade of grass. She told about her folk and her friends, about their villages, where houses were fashioned on the highest trees and in the most beautiful caves. And while she was talking, the memories brought a little shy smile to her face. She told Veliky, that there were many creatures other than pixies. Those were dwarves, residing in the mountains; naiads, living in the water; lizardfolk, inhabiting the sands; or the mysterious people of the north, rarely seen.
There were others too. The Abhardach, who thrived by sucking the blood of the living creatures; the Banach, proudly calling themselves "demons"; the dark elves, sinister and cold. There were many more she didn't dare to name. These tribes practiced dark arts. By chasing their vain and dangerous dream of becoming the ones to rule sioghal realm, they would stop at nothing in pursuit of the accurst power. Cheche stopped at that place of her story and lifted her eyes to meet those of Veliky.
- That meeting with the unholy metal creatures, still lurking above, reminded me a lot of them, you know? At times I wonder if there's a pattern for all evil in the universe...
She continued her story by telling Veliky about the minions of Balor of The Evil Eye, the undying evil entity feared among the pixies. She told Veliky how one by one the entire settlements of the pixie folk got petrified. Leaving nothing more than perfectly carved statues for those who were left to live. They tried so many spells! The strongest of the druids, the most knowledgeable of the mages spent agonizing days in futile attempts to reverse the evil spell. That's when the Council of The Wise was called. The decision they had come to was difficult and sounded desperate - to seek the cure outside of their own realm. The reason for it was mostly the nature of the curse. It was alien and vile, nothing of the kind was ever seen in sioghal.
However, there was one legend passed down from the oldest pixies to the youngest ones. The tale of a sacred stone. As the legend had it, Lord Oberon used to have one most treasured stone in his crown. It was the part of the sun itself and could bring anything to life. The legend was old and dusty and was treated merely as a fairytale. But lately, it started making sense. Thus Cheche and many others were sent through the portal by a guiding spell to the worlds where the stone could be.
She stopped her story there, unsure if her listener would believe her. Now after some thinking, Cheche was ready to admit that it might have sounded like a bizarre dream, a lunatic's tale.
-Well, here I am. And I cannot return. Not yet. - Cheche made an open gesture with her hands facing up as if to apologize for any inconvenience she might have caused.
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Post by Veliky on Jan 8, 2023 2:48:43 GMT -5
"..."
Veliky listens silently. She is a good listener. A good observer, too. As Cheche tells the beginnings of her tale - the exposition, the descriptions of sights and sounds so incredible that few but the gullible could believe them, even in a dream - Veliky sees and hears every subtlety, every faint longing, every nostalgia of weal and woe. It's so fantastical a tale. Yet the way that Cheche speaks as she describes the nostalgic lands, the mystical flora, the curious fauna... it's as if she's breathing it, so natural a recount that it seems almost intrinsic to her. If Veliky were asked; she could, with the same vividity, describe her own home: the way the pastures roll under the wind, the way the roosters signalled the morning bustle, the way the sun dominated the unfettered sky... She wouldn't describe it with such love, but the details would be just as clear. There's no doubt in Veliky's mind; every word of Cheche's story is truth.
A little smile shines on the pixie's face. The emotion behind it is not something Veliky's ever seen, and certainly nothing she's felt. She smiles, too - she can't help herself. But she quickly tucks gaiety away, only hoping it wasn't seen.
...Along the way, with every beat of Cheche's tale, Veliky's demeanour seems to drift further and further away. It isn't that she's becoming less attentive. Quite the opposite: the longer she listens, the more she feels enraptured by the story, immersed in a way that she hasn't felt in a long time.
Of course, the mention of the 'unholy metal creatures' is a disturbing murmur in Veliky's trance. 'Unholy?' Just what is it about the Blixtbots™ that Cheche despises so vehemently? Sure they're made of metal, and they have eyes of pure red, and she has them deforesting the area, and they almost tried to kill her...
Perhaps this hasn't been the greatest first impression.
But the story continues on, and Veliky continues to listen, posture straight but gaze downcast. If she were to close her eyes, she could vividly see the things that Cheche describes. With her words, she could paint the images into her mind and fill them with the sounds. She could see Balor - blue-skinned and burning like charcoal, in her imagination - sending his chimeric minions to raze the lands of magic and mirth. But she doesn't close her eyes, because, with her already-weary mind and the gentle lull of the pixie's voice... she fears she'd fall into sleep again.
'It's just like a fairytale' is something she thinks, but would never say.
But how does this story end? As Cheche completes her recount, snapping Veliky from her stupor and having her blink back to reality, Veliky realizes that there is no ending. Not yet. It's a strangely disappointing feeling. When she was younger and, for whatever reason, a story went unfinished, she'd usually invent her own ending. Nowadays, that thought irks her. And, regardless, this is a true story; she can't merely invent a finale.
Or maybe she can... No. That'd be foolish.
For a long while, Veliky silently stares at the floor, expression indiscernible. Behind her blank, pale eyes, she ponders diligently.
"..."
'It *would* be nice to have a council of royal pixies on my side...' An ulterior motive? Maybe it would seem that way to some. In truth, it's more akin to what one might call an 'excuse.'
"Well..." she begins. Her tone is slightly awkward, which sounds odd on the lowness of her voice. She scratches her cheek with a gloved finger. "I already owe you. So, maybe I could..."
Knock knock knock. The eye-drawing sound draws eyes to the staircase, where it appears that the replicant has returned with an armful of the dubious mushrooms. Given that it has no free hands, it's unclear how it produced the knocking sound at all. Either way, it looks just as pleased as it did when it departed (not very).
Without a word, the replicant walks over and unceremoniously dumps the mushrooms onto the bed, directly beside Veliky, and holding a judgemental glare on her the entire time.
Veliky reciprocates, but adds words to her spite. "Oid. Maa awett sto Maa'm manto. (Relax. I know what I'm doing.)"
The replicant just rolls its eyes. Then, in much the same strange way that it appeared, it dematerializes before their very eyes.
The sight is obviously familiar enough to Veliky, who's already found the mushrooms to be a far more pressing matter. She holds one up in front of her, brow convexed in some kind of despair.
"Are these... really edible?"
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Post by Miosh on Jan 12, 2023 22:26:21 GMT -5
- Hmm....donno, I'm already eating! - Cheche manages to utter, while munching on the juicy, spongy piece of a mushroom she snatched earlier. She swollows the first bite, and suddenly something happens. The pixie looks flushed, her expression totally unreadable. The downcast eyes look somehow even darker, as if looking into some kind of abyss. Slowly she lifts her head and looks straight into Veliky's eyes. For a brief moment nothing else happens, there's almost palpable tension in the air. Whatever happens next? Slowly, the pixie moves her fingers showing... a big thumbs up! Now she looks extremely pleased, even victorious! She is still unable to describe the rich, appetizing, saporous, a bit earthy, but nontheless quite unique taste, but all of it is written on her face. With every bite she feels how her heart beats faster and faster in a canter: toki-doki-doki-doki.
- Dear me! These mushrooms may look unsightly, but they sure are a meal fit for a king! - she finally exclaims. Cheche seems to have entirely forgotten the bitter-sweet feeling that the reminiscence of her home has brought. The change in her mood does take her aback, yet only for a little while. She has no time to ponder on it: the tides of novel sensation have already changed her. The only thing that fills her heart now is a pure delight. Cheche feels grateful to Veliky and her replica, actually feeling an instant urge to shake replica's hand and invite her to join their meal. And wouldn't that be adorable? Two Velikys enjoying the dinner, while leasurely talking and laughing...oh... Cheche blushes at the thought, and quickly turns around, so that her friend won't see. Her eyes quickly search the room, the glance runs past the stairs, she approaches the window and looks outside, but the replica is nowhere in sight. To her astonishment, it seems that Cheche has missed the other Veliky's departure. Was she a bit too hungry? A bit too focused on food? She has already held out one's hand in order to shake Veliky#2's hands, so she shruggs her shoulders and turns around to shake Veliky's hands instead.
- Thank you so much for providing for us! The mushrooms do not present any danger...I think. At least, I'm confident, they won't kill us, or else my spell wouldn't point at them. More importantly, shall we grill them? Wait, maybe we should make a stew? What would you say? We still have some pumpkin left, and I have a bit of dried onion I often snack on in my sash. Or maybe... eat them raw? Why won't you try it and tell me what you think?
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Post by Veliky on Jan 17, 2023 6:05:41 GMT -5
In all her years and all her travels, Veliky has never once encountered a being of such earnest, youthful and inspiring energy. Hearing the pixie's melodious voice as they recount all the myriad ways to prepare a mushroom and the distinct adventure that each would hold, she feels like a tortoise beside a songbird. Indeed, the contrast between her and Cheche is a thing to behold, with Cheche chirping her gleeful notes and Veliky just quietly listening. But, even as she sits in one of the strangest places she's ever visited and sitting on a bed of gourd, it isn't an unpleasant distinction - at least, Veliky doesn't believe so. Because, like a tortoise beside a songbird, Veliky doesn't mind a little music.
She just wishes it were that simple.
Looking down at the olive hues of Cheche's palm, Veliky thinks for a moment. She doesn't normally do handshakes; she thinks that they're invitations for all manner of magical trickery. But there've certainly been other opportunities for Cheche to use such tricks, had they wanted to. So, with only several seconds of hesitation, she grasps the pixie's hand - which dwarfs her little, leather-gloved one - and shakes. It's an oddly welcome feeling for her - freeing in a way she can't quite describe.
"Alright." she acquiesces. "Let me try one."
She holds the same hesitation as she stares at the little fungus in her hand. It may surprise someone to know that Veliky isn't unused to eating dubious mushrooms and other foraged snacks, but her tastes have grown far less adventurous over the years. Already, and even in spite of the fact that Cheche's already confirmed its safety, Veliky can feel her stomach churning at the thought of eating something so unusual. She actually surprises herself; for several seconds, she just stares, silently attempting to persuade herself. 'Just eat it, idiot. It's safe.'
But it doesn't work. And for a moment, she considers forgoing food a while longer; it might be preferable. But a glance at Cheche's innocent smile tips the scales just enough. And so, stifling the thought, she pops the little fungus into her mouth, chews and...
Her face lights up, as if in epiphany. "Oh!" Cheche wasn't wrong in the slightest. It's delicious! It's earthy and rich, but not overly so in either department. It's unique, but understated, such that she might eat it by the handful if she had enough of it. It's almost like popcorn, and she's already thinking of all the ways that the taste could be modified. Different flavours, different names, same brand; she could make a fortune off of this!
"It's fantashtic!" she exclaims, voice slightly muffled as she continues to chew the little stalk. She realizes it, too, and swallows before she continues. "It's a little rich, but not too much. Could counteract it with a little garlic, or maybe even some cinnamon."
The strangest ideas and inspirations run through Veliky's head. Could she even turn this into a new Blixt™ flavour...? She's been looking for something to diversify the flavour market. But that's a thought for later.
"We should grill it. I think a bit of char and something spicy could make it better." She turns to face Cheche. "Do you have any-"
Cheche's gone.
The only thing more unnerving than to see something where there should've been nothing is to see nothing where there should've been someone. Veliky looks left and right, but her pixie acquaintance is nowhere to be seen.
"Cheche...?"
Veliky's not easily rattled or disturbed, but she is easily concerned. And this sudden disappearance is something to be concerned about. She hops to her feet, scanning frantically. But, just as her boots hit the floor, a tiny voice - the meekest that Veliky has ever heard - draws her eyes downward. And her eyes widen in utter bafflement.
"Cheche?! Why're you so small?!"
Indeed, there they are, no larger than a mouse. In fact, they're actually closer to the descriptions of fairytale. But that isn't a thought that crosses Veliky's confused mind as she kneels down.
But then she feels it. Her stomach growls, and a realization shoots through Veliky's spine. Cause and effect: it's a strange event that begets a strange outcome, and the only strange event of note in the very recent past...
Is something that Veliky has also partaken in.
She looks to her left; was the bed always that big? She looks to her right; were the stairs always so daunting?! She looks up; was the ceiling always so far away?! She looks forward...
It happened so quickly. She barely even felt it. But, as she looks forward, she sees that Cheche looms in front of her again. She couldn't reach the bed if she tried, and the stairs are each like a cliffside. The room that'd seemed so cozy - a little claustrophobic, even - is now a monstrous cavern of pumpkin. She is tiny - no larger than a mouse and, in fact, no longer than the very mushrooms that caused the affliction.
Veliky slowly looks down at her hands; eyes faltering, voice wavering and mouth agape. They couldn't even wrap around a sandwich. What new layer of Hell is this?
"What the kien?!" she exclaims in shock. Of course, if someone of adequate size were standing beside her, they'd hear little more than a squeak. "What is this?! Is it permanent?! Tell me this isn't permanent!"
She turns and, desperation in her eyes, grabs Cheche by her rag-draped shoulders. "Cheche... Tell me this isn't permanent."
But, before Cheche has a chance to answer, a sound crashes from downstairs. Being so much smaller, every noise sounds so much lower in comparison. But, even so, the sound is distinct enough to recognize. It's the sound of a door being kicked in.
Downstairs, taloned feet of tin march onto the pumpkin matting with many a piercing hiss. Metal skulls adorned with crimson lenses duck under the tiny doorframe and into the room. Their heads nearly touch the ceiling, and they dwarf the furniture. Cheche knows them as abominable violations of life, Veliky just knows them as Blixtbots™. Either way, they have come.
"Oh no..." Still holding Cheche's shoulders, Veliky's eyes take on a demeanour direly serious. "Cheche, we need to get out of here. Do you understand?"
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Post by Miosh on Jan 25, 2023 7:32:13 GMT -5
"Oh my, we held hands!" - a thought came. And, as if it was not enough, it got looped. It went flashing through her brain again and again until the only thing that remained was a single silent shriek. Her ears were burning. Her whole face was. She silently blessed her complexion: with her being basically green one really had to know what signs to look for in order to tell that she was blushing. -Now we can definitely be called friends.- she whispered so softly that only maybe a mouse would hear. She felt some trembling in the air. that might as well could have been her little happy heart.
Veliky looked somewhat hesitant about the food, so she nipped one more piece off, chewing ardently so as to prove the mushrooms were good enough. And..what was bitten off turned out to be more than one could chew. At first, she felt a little bit dizzy and her legs got wobbly. Then her vision darkened, tiny flies swarming in front of her eyes. And when she got a grip on herself, the world suddenly jumped her, as a huge purring cat. Now that was awkward: she could actually hear some purring. She gasped, but that sound wasn't enough to stand out in the cacophony of sounds she found herself in. Cheche was used to being small. Almost everyone she had met through her adventures was tall and handsome, someone one could look up to, literally so. It didn't trouble her at all. She could still do pretty much everything others did, with maybe less force and sometimes less efficiency. However, now she was a size of a hummingbird. The cute little furniture she secretly adored had turned into mountain ridges and fortifications. The smooth auburn floor one could literally glide on now resembled the ragged baked surface of a desert. The air felt slightly colder, and the sounds were louder by any second (was it her imagination?).
But more importantly, Veliky! Now Veliky was towering over her. Big and Beautiful! Ah, what could Cheche do, after all, it was hard to find someone as dashing and cool as her. And she looked perplexed. She looked around as if searching for something. Cheche seemed to notice a trace of fear hidden in the depth of her eyes. She tried to scream to draw Veliky's attention, but the voice just couldn't go through, it seemed to be no louder than a mere squeak. Her heart sank, cold shivers went down her spine. What if she stayed there left and forgotten? How would she even make it back by herself if Veliky decided to leave? Her hands subconsciously turned into fists, she squeezed her eyes tight and yelled at the top of her lungs, as if her whole life depended on it. She opened one eye to check if she succeeded and let out a sigh of relief. Veliky's eyes finally got set on a tiny pixie below. She looked surprised then slowly started moving towards her. A sense of relief brought her to the verge of tears. Blurry eyed she quickly stepped back and hurriedly wiped the unwanted liquid with her sleeves.
-Now then, could you please lift...-she started and broke off. By some inexplicable twist of events, her friend was back to normal, or rather, was as small as Cheche herself. Small and utterly shaken. Cheche felt the urge to rush to her and calm her down.
-Wait, it's okay..In fa...- she started and froze in surprise as Veliky grabbed her shoulders. She could feel how cold her fingers were. That made her worried.
- Cheche... Tell me this isn't permanent. - she exclaimed. Cheche gently touched her fingers, the words of consolation were just about to escape her lips.... but she never got the chance to even start.
The vibration and noise she thought she had imagined instantly became louder. Something burst downstairs, Cheche's ears hurt. The whole house started shaking. Thoughts rushed through her mind just like shadows from a candle in a windy room: "An explosion? A volcano? An avalanche? An earthquake?" She heard the sound of metal scraping the floor and saw flashes of red light below. It could only mean THAT. Instinctively, she squeezed Veliky's hands on her shoulders, her fingers now as cold. In a state of shock, she saw the girl's lips moving. Yes, she was saying something, but Cheche couldn't make out the words because of the noise.
-...stand? - she finally caught.
At last, the impetus reached her. "Hide first. Or run. Or fight? No, no fighting. No use. What then?" As usual, her body acted before her mind could come up with any decent plan. She ran under the bed tugging Veliky along. Her whole body was shaking non-stop. There, under the bed they were covered by a blanket hanging from the bed, almost reaching the floor. It was dark and smelled...well, just like pumpkin. She turned to face her friend, desperately trying to find her eyes.
- What is it, Veliky? What do we do? - her voice intermittently breaking into a hoarse whisper.
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Post by Veliky on Jan 26, 2023 16:30:52 GMT -5
Like a minnow being dragged by the tide, Veliky's dragged with reckless abandon. To say that Cheche possesses brute strength would be a brow-raising sentiment, but one thing that most would concede is that she possesses markedly more brute strength than Veliky. The half-halfling doesn't make much of a burden, though she does make something of a ruckus. "Cheche, wai- AH!"
And beneath the bed they go. Normally, the chasm beneath a bed is the domain of dust and grunge, but such things take time to accumulate and this house hasn't even existed an hour. As such, it is thankfully free of such grossness. This is fortunate, too; at this size, an encounter with insects or other vermin could pose a true threat. The darkness may be a peril, but not nearly so much as the metal talons that clank into the room just as Cheche and Veliky escape from sight.
From beneath the blanket, they can just see clockwork legs marching about the room. The golems' investigation begins as a cursory sweep, but quickly becomes a mayhem of hissing joints and overturned furniture! They're tearing Cheche's precious abode apart, figment by figment, gourd by gourd! It is only a matter of time before they will overturn the bed and find two mouse-sized residents.
And yet, though she can nary be seen, Veliky's serenity is audible in steadiness of her breathing. What meagre light finds its way beneath the bed glints on her ice-blue irises - focused, calm. She doesn't fear being found. Indeed, she has no reason to; the bots wouldn't dare to harm her. But Cheche is a different story. Of course, she could just tell the bots that this has all been a misunderstanding, to leave Cheche be - and they would listen, too.
...But what would Cheche think? Veliky glances at the pixie beside her; whose olive youth glows in the gentle, orange-tinged light. The shadows of the intruders dance across her face as they rip apart the home she so obviously cherished. The pixie's shock, worry and fear shine in her innocent, little eyes. What would she say if she knew that Veliky was responsible for it all?
Veliky averts her eyes. She can't. It's selfish, and she knows it's selfish, but she can't let Cheche know. She has to hide it, but she still has to do *something*. But how? Is there some way she can command the bots to stop without Cheche knowing? Maybe...
The communicator[1]! Veliky's eyes light up; if she can just get a bit away from Cheche, she could use the communicator to discretely call the party off. Of course, why hadn't she thought of it before? She reaches to her belt and-
Oh, *that's* why. All the epiphany's excitement drains immediately, leaving even less hope than there was before. She doesn't have the communicator. She must've dropped it during that damn hundred-foot slide, or maybe in the pond that she landed in. Either way, it isn't an option. But what else is there?
Nothing. There's no way she can do it without Cheche noticing. They'll just have to escape. It'll be far riskier, but still doable. In fact, if she remembers correctly...
She stands up. There's space enough for her; she could raise her arms and still wouldn't touch the bed frame. Fortunately, she doesn't need to go up. Quite the contrary. She goes closer to the wall and starts sweeping about without apparent purpose, until-
'It should be right...' She traces her hand over a section of the squishy pumpkin floor. It makes her cringe, but Cheche's safety far outweighs her aversion. '...here.'
Suddenly, the index finger of Veliky's glove begins to glow with an arcane blue! She traces it across the floor and, as she does, leaves a lingering, glowing line. Using her finger like some sort of magical pen, she draws a large, rectangular shape on the ground. And then, once the polygon is complete, she steps out of its area and snaps her fingers[2], whereupon that rectangular area of the floor swings open and up as if it had hinges[3]! The familiar light of the living room shines through the newly created trapdoorway. Below, there's a short drop onto one of the pantry shelves! Well, to call it a 'short drop' would be misleading, as it's roughly the equivalent of a 9-foot drop for someone of Veliky and Cheche's current size. But, with a bit of acrobatics, it's more than survivable.
They'll be in the open, exposed. But they'll be one step closer to freedom.
The seriousness upon Veliky's face is illuminated by the light that shines through. "Come on. We just need to get to ground-level, and then I can get us out of here. But we need to hurry."
She's right. About the hurrying, that is. Even now, the constructs' mechanical footfalls are drawing nearer...
1. Talking Heads 2. Minor Trickery 3. Create Door
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Post by Miosh on Feb 2, 2023 19:37:59 GMT -5
Cheche kneels to see what Veliky is busy with. Her bare knees touch the rough surface of the floor, but she doesn't notice the discomfort, she's fully immersed in watching Veliky's actions. There's a faint glow coming from her fingers, greedily absorbed by the lines on the floor. The blue sparks are dancing on her flaxen locks just like will-o'-the-wisps. Her icy eyes, framed with long light-colored eyelashes, catch that ghostly glow, making her look like an embodiment of winter. She looks both enchanting and lonely.
For some inexplicable reason, Cheche feels sad. She is not used to such mood swings: feeling happy, feeling close to somebody, feeling abandoned, feeling lost... feeling hopeful. Can it be it is fatigue catching up? "We need to go on a vacation somewhere when all of this is over. No more adventuring for some time...." - she thinks and then halts. "W-wait... we?" Exactly where does this trail of thought go? At this very moment, she hears Veliky's whisper:
- Come on. We just need to get to ground level, and then I can get us out of here. But we need to hurry.
Cheche gets to her feet and comes closer. She cautiously peeks over Veliky's shoulder. Down below she sees the pantry shelves of the living room. So close, yet so far. For the first time in her life, Cheche feels hesitant. She'd jump without a single care in the world be it just her. However, this time she's not alone. With the two of them jumping they might repeat the wild descent from the last time. And now there's too much at stake.
They have no time to linger: the mechanical horrors are closing in. The pixie's obsidian eyes are expressionless. She's thinking. Finally, she hits the place right under her left collarbone near the True North Tattoo. Her graft gets activated in an instant. Bat wings spread, gleaming right behind her own frail wings. She breathes in, and mutters: "I'm so sorry, Veliky!" Then she hugs her tightly and pushes both of them through the trap door. She tries to maneuver, and moments later they land safely on the upper shelf. The graft that had to help carry a doubled weight retracts with a "zing" and she gently lets go of Veliky. It's too soon to feel relieved. The next challenge would be to get to the floor. Cheche remembers and clenches her fist with a growl: sack with the grappling hook and the rope is left upstairs. There's absolutely no way they can retrieve it now. What's more, the clinking and clanging sounds get louder, Cheche's face turns pale. They need to climb down fast!
- Oh, Veliky, what do we do?
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Post by Veliky on Feb 6, 2023 0:19:22 GMT -5
How far down is it? Twelve inches, maybe thirteen? From Veliky's perspective, it looks like five feet (a dangerous drop, to her). Could she survive such a fall? Probably, but she'd rather not have to.
Then again, she knows from experience that smaller creatures are generally less likely to be injured in falls. 'If we're careful, maybe we could-'
And then she hears a a sudden apology from Cheche, behind her. "Hmm?" 'Did something happen?' she wonders.
But that's when she feels delicate, yet envigoured arms wrapping around her body. It sends a sharp jolt through her, that freezes her muscles and body alike! She can feel the pixie's raggedy cloths on her back. In its embrace, she's stiffer than a statue, petrified like a fainting goat.
"Che-Cheche?!" Veliky struggles to verbalize a cohesive question; only uttering her captor's name, in stupefaction. What's happening? What's come over the pixie? Is she dangerous? All three of these questions are answered as the pixie begins to tip forward, into the doorway, with Veliky still in its arms.
Veliky closes her eyes. And, after what feels like a mere second, she opens them again to find both herself and Cheche standing steadily on the shelf below, unharmed. It takes her a second longer to realize that her arms are still frozen in the pose of a startled turkey.
"...Oh. Good. Well done."
She adjusts her stance and clears her throat in a vain attempt to reassert composure. That was not her best moment, and she's certain to dread it later. But, for the time being, there are more important things to worry about.
Veliky and Cheche now stand on the highest shelf of an uncovered pantry. No food nor accessories decorate it; while this means that there are few obstacles to stop their progress, it also means that places to hide are in short supply. The latter consequence is especially dire, as both of the mouse-sized intrepids can see that the room below is occupied by a tin-skinned, iron-taloned, red-eyed automaton carrying a crossbow that could pierce a hole through a sacred oak. It's overturned the furniture and torn affixments off the walls. If Veliky and Cheche are to escape its view, they will need to be as quick as their diminution can allow.
And this time, it's Veliky that takes the initiative. "Come on, follow my lead."
While descending the shelves is far from easy, there are two blessings to be counted: firstly, the duo is so small that their mad dash barely makes a sound; and secondly, the shape of the house itself forces the shelves into an almost stair-like arrangement, making each drop a relatively simple process. Of course, none of this changes the fact that it would only take a brief glance from the construct to spot them both.
But they're getting close. Cheche touches down, then Veliky, onto the bottommost shelf. Now it's just a short dash to the end. They'll need to devise a plan to the ground from there, but if they can, then they'll be free.
"Just a bit further!" The escape is beginning to wear on her, and it shows in the labour of her tone, as if the lantern-glinted beads of sweat on her forehead weren't enough. Still, she pushes on. "Almost there! We should be able to-"
She grinds to a halt, and not without cause. For a moment, the whole shelf shakes beneath them. It's much the same vibration as that caused when a huge book is dropped onto a table, but their perspective makes it quite more catastrophic. There's a tense pause, filled only with unspoken questions centring around 'why?' Unfortunately, it isn't long before the answer reveals itself.
A long, spindly limb of glinting metal hooks over the forward edge of the shelf, planting its pinpoint extremity upon the gourd-flesh surface. Another follows suit with a repetition of clicks, and then a third and fourth. And finally, peering over with eight crimson lenses is a great, mechanical spider[1]. It's as huge as a cat, with a legspan that could span a doorway - and fangs that could pierce a boar's hide. And it can see them, clear as day.
"...Cheche?" There's no fear in Veliky voice - not for herself, at least. "Get behind me."
Through eyes that are narrowed in frosty focus, she particulates the obstacle before her. The Stalker should rarely be a threat on its own. But at this size? They aren't much larger than the mice that actual prismatic spiders dine upon. They'll have to get past it, somehow. And Cheche needs something to defend herself. To that end...
Veliky reaches into a pocket, and produces a little bottle. It's much like the one before, that'd acted as such a hearty meal for Cheche. But this one is far stranger, a trichotomy of colour that's labelled "Blixt™ Kandy Korn"[2] in festive lettering. A mere beverage? No - 'mere' isn't the right word, as Cheche might soon discover. Without taking her eyes off the arachnid clockwork, Veliky reaches behind herself and hands the bottle to Cheche. "Drink this. No questions."
And may it be of some help, as the abomination in front of them is not the only threat. Fluttering on fabric wings, screeching with bellow-lungs, and with steel fangs shimmering in the hearthlight, a toy bat[3] casts a grim silhouette on the ceiling! And then, with some artificial facsimile of mortal glee, it dives directly toward Cheche!
1. (Prismatic Spider) Stalker-03 2. (Witch's Brew) Blixt™ Kandy Korn 3. (Vampire Bat) Vampire-04
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Post by Miosh on Feb 19, 2023 6:54:19 GMT -5
Soon after they landed, it became clear that it was too soon to feel relieved. They were denied any escape route: the fiend was already buzzing and humming below, searching through the entire storage room. Cheche glanced over Veliky’s shoulder and felt how her hands suddenly went cold. She felt her heart pounding aghast, her wings trembling with fear. The creature below resembled a spider. Honestly, Cheche was especially bad with spiders. It was an innate terror born from the old spooky stories told at the campfire. "Be good, child, or else a scary leggy spider would creep right out of his home down the abyss and take the naughty fae away." - her aunt used to tell her. Oh-oh….As Cheche feared, she was quite a naughty child these days. And maybe, just maybe, the moment has come for her.
She staggered away from the rim, pale and weak. Her hand flew up to hold onto Veliky, instinctively seeking protection. But Cheche stopped herself.
“Shame! Am I a coward? Am I not the one who should stand by her and not hide behind her?” - and when the pixie was about to suppress her violent trembling, something unexpected happened.
Quick as a flash of lightning, Veliky shoved something into her hand. She told Cheche to drink it, and her tone didn't leave any room for questions or hesitation. Well, Cheche had long since figured out that this lady was not one to be taken lightly.
-Yes mam, right away, mam! - she yelled out, saluted, and drank the contents of the vial in one go.
The taste was, well... interesting. It was sweet, but somehow too sweet. Hmm, what was it like? Like taking a long ride in an overcrowded bus, devilishly slow in the afternoon heat. Or maybe, it was like riding the rollercoaster for the hundredth time, with excitement getting replaced by repulsion. Like fake smiles, and syrupy words with no meaning. There was something dark hidden behind its bright colors, and the pixie was well at odds with this taste.
She drank until none was left. That's when she felt a change. “shhh” - a soft voice whispered into her ears ”shh, don’t be scared, little one…sleep….sleep…aren’t you tired? I’ll take it from here….”. Soon enough her vision faded, her eyes closed, and she quietly slid down, to the surface of the shelf.
If she could witness the events that took place later on, she’d see, how, all of a sudden, her eyes opened wide. The eerie green light poured from them, akin to two clouds of winter breath in the dead of the night. Her body soared into the air, her wings strangely limp. It turned and bent under a strange angle. And then her head lifted. Her lips parted. A chilling low howl could be heard all around the house. The words in an unknown language started pouring out of her mouth, speeding up, like a stream of muddy water in the early days of spring. It hardly took a minute and then the whole house was set into motion. A powerful quake shook them, throwing the spider off balance. Everything in the house started transforming and changing in order to fight off the offenders. And we I didn't know better, we'd say it was almost as if the house came to life!
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Post by Veliky on Feb 20, 2023 16:57:24 GMT -5
"Cheche? Cheche! Come on, wake up! Kien!"
With her knees to the dirt, Veliky kneels over lying Cheche. On a bed of her own mosaic gossamer, the pixie looks... peaceful. Like a deep, deep slumber. Is she dreaming...?
"Dempfna! Cirin's ekk na wie rir dor! Wake up! (Dammit! Now's not the time for sleep! Wake up!)"
That's not entirely true. At least, it's not altogether objective. They're away from the house, now - the house that had torn its own roots from the very earth. They're safe. And with the morning sun now gently speckling the pixie's olive skin, someone like Cheche may very well consider this the perfect opportunity for a nap.
But Veliky doesn't; not after what she saw. She doesn't remember much of what happened after Cheche began that foul incantation. It was pandemonium, and she didn't remain for long. But she recall, does with perfect clarity, how Cheche became something else. Something that looked the same, but was so different in manner. Something so unbefittingly calm for the squirlish little fey... and then it stopped. The incanting stopped, and Cheche passed out. And though Cheche was the one sound asleep, it was Veliky that had the nightmare of dragging her new acquaintance out of that house of horrors.
What happened in there? Veliky has heard so many stories about the enanda. And while those tales were hardly the work of scholars, what they said had, up until just then, matched what she has seen of Cheche. The whimsy, the magic, the beauty and the connection with nature all held true. But that? What happened in that house was not part of the stories. At least, none that Veliky has heard.
...Was it the Blixt™? Even Veliky would admit that Blixt™ Kandy Korn has some morally questionable effects, but that was quite new. Still, the correlation can't be ignored. Perhaps a recall is in order...
But those are thoughts for later. In spite of Veliky's efforts, gently shaking Cheche by the shoulders, her fey rescuee still won't awake from their slumber.
"Dempf!" Veliky curses aloud, bolting to her feet in frustration and pacing around the grove. Well, 'grove' may be an inaccurate; it's merely the space between a rock and a mushroom-tree, blanketed in yellow moss. But, with the pair being as small as they are now, it may as well be a clearing in the forest.
Stamping furiously about, Veliky grits her teeth and ponders. She has so many questions, and not knowing how to get her answers is frustrating beyond reason to her. What happened in there? How can she wake Cheche up? What will she if she doesn't-
PLOP! It's a near-silent sound, but made quite more audible at this size. But Veliky isn't so concerned about the noise as she is the feeling of her entirely head suddenly becoming soaked with water. Her dignified hat transforms into a bit of floppy fabric, and her blonde strands hang over her eyes like heavy curtains. In something of a panic, she looks directly upward, trying to find the source, only for another drop of water to splash directly on her face. It comes from above - dew forming in the canopy, dripping and dropping down to where stands.
She sputters and quickly steps aside from where the dew is dripping. That splash was surprisingly painful: another reason for her to lament that mushroom's effects. But, after a string of curses and after getting over the initial start, she looks to Cheche and has an idea.
It takes a while. Cheche may be a small sort, but Veliky is a smaller sort. And so pushing Cheche's body over to where the dew is dripping is no easy task. But where Veliky lacks in strength, she has determination in spades. 'Just one should do it, right?' she thinks as she brushes her waterlogged hair aside yet again and finally pushes Cheche into place.
And then she waits...
...
...
...
'Why is this taking so long now?!' Veliky wonders, somewhat offended. When it was her underneath, the two drops came in rapid succession, hitting her with a two-strike combo. 'Of course now that I *want* it to happen, it's taking its sweet time-'
PLOP! Her frustration is interrupted by a bit of relief as the sleeping Cheche is slapped by a descend droplet of dew. Afterward, she's quick to move Cheche out of the way; she doesn't want the poor girl to be waterboarded. And now she holds Cheche in a cradle, watching her face for even the slightest hint of rouse and wiping dew off her forehead.
This is supposed to work, isn't it? Back when she relied on mercenaries, a splash of cold water was normally enough to wake them up and get them back on the job. But then, this isn't an ordinary sleep. She can only hope, and send an open-ended and strongly-worded prayer to the gods. If this doesn't work... she doesn't have much she *can* do.
Wait. Did Cheche just move? Is that a little crack between her eyelids? Veliky can't disguise an expression of hope - and concern - on her own face...
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