[ The next time Lorna returns to her room, she'll find a necklace dangling from one of her bedposts. On it is a makeshift pendant: A twist of wires bent into the approximation of the Mets logo.
On her pillow is a note, written in small, neat handwriting. ]
You sound less... echo-y. Should I assume you're all good now?
Also, there's a blank envelope with something inside that is taped above your door if you haven't found it already.
[inside is a note telling him to check outside behind a broken flowerpot, where there's a note that says to check her usual workstation at the blacksmith's shop, where there's a note that directs him to look in a specific book in a bookstore and turn to page 54 where a note is tucked in and tells him to go to the moot hall and find a box in the corner. Inside that box is a set of four metal cups. Merry Christmas, Harlan.]
[ He's quiet for a couple minutes while he hunts down the envelope... and then the flower pot. At that point, it's clear that this isn't gonna be a quick "grabbing the mail" kind of errand. He heads back inside to grab his coat, and then it's off to the blacksmith shop, apparently. ]
So cool of you to send me on an adventure around town when you thought I was still stuck blasting my thoughts to everyone around me.
1). You die. 2). The Deathwarden, Ianthe (another Void-Touched), prepares your body for the process. 3). You're delivered to the Duchess in the castle, where she actually does it. 4). You're aware of what's happening while it's happening — it sucks. 5). Ta-da — you're back in business, baby.
Not as nice as what we did back home on Krakoa, but. Eh. At least I haven't died in an embarrassing way here yet.
In a couple or so weeks I will have been here a year. And I've died here before, yes — and I've got friends here who have as well. Granted, dying is pretty common around here when you have a spider god to bring you back.
sport like the Vesenya Lovti shit? I guess some might be familiar with it; people can come from weird places, and I don't know everyone, so I'm not willing to say for 100% fact. Because then I might be wrong and look like a dipshit about it and that's not worth the embarrassment, and if I'm gonna embarrass myself it's gonna be over something way funnier.
[ Valentine has amassed a small dragon hoard of other people's jewelry and middle miscellanea; he cannot share it telepathically, but he is here to share its presence exists! ]
Not exactly. I'm looking for someplace I can work on a project.
Since it would take up time and space, I'd be happy to put work in for the owner, if you think they'd be willing to make the trade. I know my way around a forge, but I'm also willing to take on menial labor if that's more helpful.
It's not the first time I've died - here or at home - but it is the first I've been a ghost. I think it was just mostly what I would call mildly annoying? I'm pretty fond of being a solid body.
๐
On her pillow is a note, written in small, neat handwriting. ]
OLIVE BRANCH? (THE METS STILL SUCK.)
—HH
[ text ] ยป
This is so cute, thank you! I'm sure it pained you to make, so I also appreciate the sacrifice.
voice;
[ And look at that, no more echo! ]
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Also, there's a blank envelope with something inside that is taped above your door if you haven't found it already.
[inside is a note telling him to check outside behind a broken flowerpot, where there's a note that says to check her usual workstation at the blacksmith's shop, where there's a note that directs him to look in a specific book in a bookstore and turn to page 54 where a note is tucked in and tells him to go to the moot hall and find a box in the corner. Inside that box is a set of four metal cups. Merry Christmas, Harlan.]
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[ He's quiet for a couple minutes while he hunts down the envelope... and then the flower pot. At that point, it's clear that this isn't gonna be a quick "grabbing the mail" kind of errand. He heads back inside to grab his coat, and then it's off to the blacksmith shop, apparently. ]
So cool of you to send me on an adventure around town when you thought I was still stuck blasting my thoughts to everyone around me.
[ He's laughing, but also, goddammit. ]
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[ She also laughs some. ]
I'm like a fitbit.
[ Sure.
???!
Whatever that means. ]
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text;
[ Hickey knows one whole person in town so far, and he has questions. ]
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2). The Deathwarden, Ianthe (another Void-Touched), prepares your body for the process.
3). You're delivered to the Duchess in the castle, where she actually does it.
4). You're aware of what's happening while it's happening — it sucks.
5). Ta-da — you're back in business, baby.
Not as nice as what we did back home on Krakoa, but. Eh. At least I haven't died in an embarrassing way here yet.
[ which is more than she can say for home ]
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But you have died? You speak as though you've been here for some time.
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The town does seem eager for blood. What about the others like us? Void-touched. I can't imagine this sort of sport is familiar to most of us.
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telepathy โ
How are you with mixed metals?
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text. early september
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Since it would take up time and space, I'd be happy to put work in for the owner, if you think they'd be willing to make the trade. I know my way around a forge, but I'm also willing to take on menial labor if that's more helpful.
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What's the project, or is it top secret? I'm always curious
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[ And then, since the term hasn't rung familiar to others he's met: ]
A firearm.
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