I'm a shitty, unclear, vague, ambiguous writer so there's no point in me participating in this community anymore.
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Divorarel I Can Boogie
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Alice Ansegisel had been a hero, once upon a time, and not just any hero either. She’d been the greatest hero in the galaxy. She’d trained with the Count of Vermont, rescued the Princess of Storms, and outrun the Pale Rider. She’d vanquished foes all the way from Halptide to N’Arague and to list them all would be a feat unto itself, but more incredible than champions of darkness slain, she’d always shown mercy to those who sought it with sincerity in their hearts. But that had been long ago…
Before the formation of the Great Fault, before the fall of Celesin, before before had meant anything.
Alice was neither the avatar of destruction nor pillar of justice that people imagined when they imagined legendary heroes, physically she had not aged a day since she was nine, mentally she was somewhere between several thousand years old and ‘its impolite to ask a woman about her age.’ After protecting the Dominion throughout the entirety of the cataclysm she’d watched That Man return to power and been left wondering if it had been worth all the effort. On that day Alice retired. Now she was an old woman, living in a homely little cottage deep in the woods of some small planet, with naught but few old pictures and trophies to celebrate a long life in service to others.
She’d taken up knitting as a hobby.
Sometimes, Alice still took up arms, when some cosmic tyrant or demonic lord threatened the realm. But only when she felt like it was absolutely necessary. Even stronger than her resolve to remain neutral in these dark times was Alice’s belief that the next generation of sorcerers and champions ought to be capable of solving problems on their own, without having to rely on tired old women, after all she had already failed to keep the Dominion from falling and being reborn as the Domination. She’d taken an apprentice since then, and she was a spirited one, but she’d already graduated to become a powerful hero all of her own and she was in the process of testing another’s resolve.
Knock-Knock-Knock
It was for that very reason that Alice sighed when setting the little brown dandy she’d been knitting off to the side, already aware that it was not her apprentice standing outside of her mushroom-shaped homestead in that way that all good witches were aware of all the things that went on in their territory even when outside of their immediate line of sight, climbed to her feet with a groan and made her way to the door where a nine-foot-tall grizzly bear with honey yellow fur and a tiny red fez stood waiting for her.
“Good afternoon, Poh, how has my apprentice managed to screw up today’s mission?”
“Afternoon, ma’am, an’ pardon me for speaking outta turn but I was under the impression that Sammie weren’t your apprentice yet.”
“Pish-posh, the title is just a formality, I don’t want her getting a big head is all.”
“Mighty wise of ya, don’t want her gettin’ ahead of herself now, don’t think the Thousand Acre Woods could survive another Synestra. Nope-nope. Sammie’s too cowardly for all that, anyhow—”
“…”
“You’ve got mail.”
The bear presented her with an envelope clutched between a pair of dexterous claws, pristine white, with a familiar return address and a richly golden wax seal with a florid exaggerated A in the center.
“Goodness, what could that man possibly want from me…”
==========
Dark brown smudges on the envelope smelled of semi-sweet cocoa, indicative of her Christmas gift's enjoyment.
Inside was, as expected of such an eccentric, nothing of obvious worth -- he never bothered to use his words. Instead of a letter, it contained cookie crumbs; small photo prints of the eponymous Mister A figure skating around Eternity, buck naked as usual; him, again, relaxed in a Uvaldian tangerine hot spring surrounded by a host of dead uniformed Ulvadian Popojijos; and him dressed rather professionally as he, as evidenced in the scene, arbitrated a dispute among ducks; and, finally, a card that, on one side, was a tarot of The Devil and on the other side a spell glyph of metamystical wayfinding complete with coordinates to some place or another.
==========
Alice had since taken the letter into her home, set aside the scalpel she used to undo the wax seal, grabbed her reading glasses and gave the whole thing a once over just to make sure there were any details about the letter that she had missed. There were not. For a long time after she sat there in silence until Mr Poh began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep without him noticing, almost reached out, only for her to begin speaking as soon as the impulse entered his mind.
“Winn, dear, tell Sammie that I’m going to be taking a trip.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Make sure that she does all of chores and doesn’t slack off.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Water the plants and make sure they get plenty of sun too.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And tell my husb—”
“Pardon me but I’m thinkin’ you oughta get goin’ before sundown if it’s that important.”
“Oh very well.”
She got cranky after sundown.
Alice, who had eluded the opportunity for a physical description outside of the vaguest terms so far, was just about four-feet-and-eight-inches tall with pink hair that fell down to her waist when it wasn’t tied up and a pair of bright pink eyes. Her skin was baby smooth and her face was acceptably cute. Alice could look like an adult any time she wanted, despite the not-aging thing, but that was not the shape of her soul so-to-speak and maintaining that form for any significant period of time became mentally taxing. Alice was not really a little girl or an old woman. Alice was some strange amalgamation of the two that bonded with an angel an unknown number of years ago and when the magical disguise dropped she looked more like a statue with ball-joints rather than a real human. Alice dressed like a grandma ought to. With a long modest dress that fell below the ankles and a blanket that hung over her arms at all times and a shoes that made the little clickety-clack sound when she walked across the wooden floor. Alice lived in a giant mushroom in the middle of a magical forest on some unimportant planet in what had once been the Mystic Dominion and was now something much more dangerous that wore it like a skinsuit, Alice had tamed the local bandit king, a vicious honey yellow Gau named Winn Poh, and now he was her personal errand boy. Alice sent everyone she knew a basket of cookies every Christmas and had been estranged from her husband for the last century or so, he knew what he did, but did not seem overly concerned about the delayed date of his return.
Alice had once, in her youth, kicked her way through no less than three Antaran Precusor Flagships. Alice was not the biggest deal that the multiverse had ever seen, but children had slept easy in their beds at night knowing that she was there to protect them from the things that went bump in the night, but her brand had fallen out of favor since she refused to fall in line with the King of the Night and now she like a moth eaten Raggedy Anne doll was just a relic of a distant past.
She had been a hero once, and with a sigh, and a moment to arrange herself inside her favorite chair, she supposed that she still would be—because Autun had been a very pleasant fellow that one time.
==========
One act of interdimensional astral projection later and Alice found herself waking up in some distant universe with fluttered eyelashes, and something felt horribly off, naturally she could had not brought the entirety of her Everstone exoskeleton with her on the trip but she ought to have a greater range of motion and perception inside her spiritual body. This felt like she was occupying a vessel. One that felt terribly heavy beneath the weight of whatever that sticky pink something oozing off of her body was…
“Looks like we’ve got a gate hopper, Tom.”
“I can see that, Jerry, little old thing must have gotten lost.”
“We ought to show her the way back, Tom.”
Before the mystery could solve itself Alice was accosted and when she turned to look at who was speaking to her in this dimly lit alleyway she’d found herself in, her head spun too fast, so fast that she was staring directly behind herself at a pair of horrified little yarn men stubby little woolen limbs and wide black button eyes and a pair of extra long needles like swords. Their rich red-black uniforms were made of a fine felt that someone must have put a lot of love into sowing before assigning them the brutish little personalities they had.
“Gentleman, there appears to be a misun—”
“AIEEE!!!”
In his panic the first one thrust his needle forward and the second followed suit because if they were going to make a bad decision why not do it together, and Alice much to her eternal disgrace, was so unused to having a body that did not have any bones that she failed to dodge before the two razor tips punched through her gooey abdomen. Piercing her grandmother dress at the breast with what would have been a very precise attack on her heart if they had not been stabbing a woman made out of goo—so that’s what the pink stuff was!
“Excuse you, a man does not stab a lady without permission!”
With permission still seemed dubious but just as the impulse entered her head her hands extended into two gushing torrents of pink slime, slamming into the little woolen men, violently glueing them the nearest wall and oozing into the gaps in their knitted little bodies until she realized what was happening and at once the amorphous mass broke off from her wrists. Leaving her hands dripping. Only then did the rest of her body orient itself. Turning a full one-eight-degrees one joint at a time until she was facing her attackers, slightly dizzy, and wearing her best stern face.
“Gentlemen, have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes ma’am,” They responded in a submissive monotone. Their gaps oozing a constant pink that called out to her for instruction with a voice in the back of her mind what sounded like popping bubbles, and against her better judgment she did. “Now, will one of you tell me where I am?”
And so they did.
“Aye ma’am, you’re in Cookieham Palace at the coronation of the one and only King Yarnles III.”
“Party crashing I do believe.”
“Yes, that’s right."
Outside, that is to say beyond the alley, she could see a palace made entirely of cookies and candy. With towers made out of gingerbread and capped by upside down ice cream cones. Visibly oozing vanilla beneath the crinkled construction paper sun that hung high above a painted blue sky with clouds of cotton moving in predetermined patterns. And somewhere within an ominous presence. And Alice, Alice gasped: "Autun, you fool, what did you do. It was just an arts and crafts starter kit."
A/N: Autun's letter was written by Circ)
Before the formation of the Great Fault, before the fall of Celesin, before before had meant anything.
Alice was neither the avatar of destruction nor pillar of justice that people imagined when they imagined legendary heroes, physically she had not aged a day since she was nine, mentally she was somewhere between several thousand years old and ‘its impolite to ask a woman about her age.’ After protecting the Dominion throughout the entirety of the cataclysm she’d watched That Man return to power and been left wondering if it had been worth all the effort. On that day Alice retired. Now she was an old woman, living in a homely little cottage deep in the woods of some small planet, with naught but few old pictures and trophies to celebrate a long life in service to others.
She’d taken up knitting as a hobby.
Sometimes, Alice still took up arms, when some cosmic tyrant or demonic lord threatened the realm. But only when she felt like it was absolutely necessary. Even stronger than her resolve to remain neutral in these dark times was Alice’s belief that the next generation of sorcerers and champions ought to be capable of solving problems on their own, without having to rely on tired old women, after all she had already failed to keep the Dominion from falling and being reborn as the Domination. She’d taken an apprentice since then, and she was a spirited one, but she’d already graduated to become a powerful hero all of her own and she was in the process of testing another’s resolve.
Knock-Knock-Knock
It was for that very reason that Alice sighed when setting the little brown dandy she’d been knitting off to the side, already aware that it was not her apprentice standing outside of her mushroom-shaped homestead in that way that all good witches were aware of all the things that went on in their territory even when outside of their immediate line of sight, climbed to her feet with a groan and made her way to the door where a nine-foot-tall grizzly bear with honey yellow fur and a tiny red fez stood waiting for her.
“Good afternoon, Poh, how has my apprentice managed to screw up today’s mission?”
“Afternoon, ma’am, an’ pardon me for speaking outta turn but I was under the impression that Sammie weren’t your apprentice yet.”
“Pish-posh, the title is just a formality, I don’t want her getting a big head is all.”
“Mighty wise of ya, don’t want her gettin’ ahead of herself now, don’t think the Thousand Acre Woods could survive another Synestra. Nope-nope. Sammie’s too cowardly for all that, anyhow—”
“…”
“You’ve got mail.”
The bear presented her with an envelope clutched between a pair of dexterous claws, pristine white, with a familiar return address and a richly golden wax seal with a florid exaggerated A in the center.
“Goodness, what could that man possibly want from me…”
==========
Dark brown smudges on the envelope smelled of semi-sweet cocoa, indicative of her Christmas gift's enjoyment.
Inside was, as expected of such an eccentric, nothing of obvious worth -- he never bothered to use his words. Instead of a letter, it contained cookie crumbs; small photo prints of the eponymous Mister A figure skating around Eternity, buck naked as usual; him, again, relaxed in a Uvaldian tangerine hot spring surrounded by a host of dead uniformed Ulvadian Popojijos; and him dressed rather professionally as he, as evidenced in the scene, arbitrated a dispute among ducks; and, finally, a card that, on one side, was a tarot of The Devil and on the other side a spell glyph of metamystical wayfinding complete with coordinates to some place or another.
==========
Alice had since taken the letter into her home, set aside the scalpel she used to undo the wax seal, grabbed her reading glasses and gave the whole thing a once over just to make sure there were any details about the letter that she had missed. There were not. For a long time after she sat there in silence until Mr Poh began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep without him noticing, almost reached out, only for her to begin speaking as soon as the impulse entered his mind.
“Winn, dear, tell Sammie that I’m going to be taking a trip.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Make sure that she does all of chores and doesn’t slack off.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Water the plants and make sure they get plenty of sun too.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And tell my husb—”
“Pardon me but I’m thinkin’ you oughta get goin’ before sundown if it’s that important.”
“Oh very well.”
She got cranky after sundown.
Alice, who had eluded the opportunity for a physical description outside of the vaguest terms so far, was just about four-feet-and-eight-inches tall with pink hair that fell down to her waist when it wasn’t tied up and a pair of bright pink eyes. Her skin was baby smooth and her face was acceptably cute. Alice could look like an adult any time she wanted, despite the not-aging thing, but that was not the shape of her soul so-to-speak and maintaining that form for any significant period of time became mentally taxing. Alice was not really a little girl or an old woman. Alice was some strange amalgamation of the two that bonded with an angel an unknown number of years ago and when the magical disguise dropped she looked more like a statue with ball-joints rather than a real human. Alice dressed like a grandma ought to. With a long modest dress that fell below the ankles and a blanket that hung over her arms at all times and a shoes that made the little clickety-clack sound when she walked across the wooden floor. Alice lived in a giant mushroom in the middle of a magical forest on some unimportant planet in what had once been the Mystic Dominion and was now something much more dangerous that wore it like a skinsuit, Alice had tamed the local bandit king, a vicious honey yellow Gau named Winn Poh, and now he was her personal errand boy. Alice sent everyone she knew a basket of cookies every Christmas and had been estranged from her husband for the last century or so, he knew what he did, but did not seem overly concerned about the delayed date of his return.
Alice had once, in her youth, kicked her way through no less than three Antaran Precusor Flagships. Alice was not the biggest deal that the multiverse had ever seen, but children had slept easy in their beds at night knowing that she was there to protect them from the things that went bump in the night, but her brand had fallen out of favor since she refused to fall in line with the King of the Night and now she like a moth eaten Raggedy Anne doll was just a relic of a distant past.
She had been a hero once, and with a sigh, and a moment to arrange herself inside her favorite chair, she supposed that she still would be—because Autun had been a very pleasant fellow that one time.
==========
One act of interdimensional astral projection later and Alice found herself waking up in some distant universe with fluttered eyelashes, and something felt horribly off, naturally she could had not brought the entirety of her Everstone exoskeleton with her on the trip but she ought to have a greater range of motion and perception inside her spiritual body. This felt like she was occupying a vessel. One that felt terribly heavy beneath the weight of whatever that sticky pink something oozing off of her body was…
“Looks like we’ve got a gate hopper, Tom.”
“I can see that, Jerry, little old thing must have gotten lost.”
“We ought to show her the way back, Tom.”
Before the mystery could solve itself Alice was accosted and when she turned to look at who was speaking to her in this dimly lit alleyway she’d found herself in, her head spun too fast, so fast that she was staring directly behind herself at a pair of horrified little yarn men stubby little woolen limbs and wide black button eyes and a pair of extra long needles like swords. Their rich red-black uniforms were made of a fine felt that someone must have put a lot of love into sowing before assigning them the brutish little personalities they had.
“Gentleman, there appears to be a misun—”
“AIEEE!!!”
In his panic the first one thrust his needle forward and the second followed suit because if they were going to make a bad decision why not do it together, and Alice much to her eternal disgrace, was so unused to having a body that did not have any bones that she failed to dodge before the two razor tips punched through her gooey abdomen. Piercing her grandmother dress at the breast with what would have been a very precise attack on her heart if they had not been stabbing a woman made out of goo—so that’s what the pink stuff was!
“Excuse you, a man does not stab a lady without permission!”
With permission still seemed dubious but just as the impulse entered her head her hands extended into two gushing torrents of pink slime, slamming into the little woolen men, violently glueing them the nearest wall and oozing into the gaps in their knitted little bodies until she realized what was happening and at once the amorphous mass broke off from her wrists. Leaving her hands dripping. Only then did the rest of her body orient itself. Turning a full one-eight-degrees one joint at a time until she was facing her attackers, slightly dizzy, and wearing her best stern face.
“Gentlemen, have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes ma’am,” They responded in a submissive monotone. Their gaps oozing a constant pink that called out to her for instruction with a voice in the back of her mind what sounded like popping bubbles, and against her better judgment she did. “Now, will one of you tell me where I am?”
And so they did.
“Aye ma’am, you’re in Cookieham Palace at the coronation of the one and only King Yarnles III.”
“Party crashing I do believe.”
“Yes, that’s right."
Outside, that is to say beyond the alley, she could see a palace made entirely of cookies and candy. With towers made out of gingerbread and capped by upside down ice cream cones. Visibly oozing vanilla beneath the crinkled construction paper sun that hung high above a painted blue sky with clouds of cotton moving in predetermined patterns. And somewhere within an ominous presence. And Alice, Alice gasped: "Autun, you fool, what did you do. It was just an arts and crafts starter kit."
Alice is now embodying Glittering Love (D-03-109), an abnormality that made entirely of glitter glue. It takes the form of a pretty young woman and charms unsuspecting victims into accepting its blessing. The blessed feel stronger and more energetic than ever as long as they do her bidding. They actively spread their blessing to anyone they come in contact with so long as they maintain a pleasant demeanor, but if Glittering Love loses her temper, they explode and transform into smaller variants of glue monstrosity designated D-03-109-2 and rampage until Glittering Love is appeased or subdued at which point they die off.
Alice currently does not have access to her all of her old powers, as she is inhabiting a new vessel, but will surely gain more over time as she becomes more familiar with her temporary body!
A/N: Autun's letter was written by Circ)
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GM
I'm a shitty, unclear, vague, ambiguous writer so there's no point in me participating in this community anymore.
Divorarel I Can Boogie
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Alice made her way down the alley one shaky wobble at a time, as it turns out, bipedal locomotion was a tad more difficult than she was used to without any bones to keep you upright against gravity. So imagine her surprise when, just as the though passed through her head, the entirety of her lower body fused into a single amorphous mass of glitter that oozed out from the bottom of her dress and left a slinky pink trail behind her as she moved—or rather oozed—across the woolen floor.
“That’s not quite as subtle as I was hoping, I don’t suppose glitter monsters are commonplace?”
“Not in the Youknitted Kingdom they ain’t, ma’am.”
It would just have to do, so on Alice roved, diving into the waiting sea of partygoers with her guards, leaving behind a pair of half-melted plastic heels bubbling and hissing in the alley where she’d come. Ten thousand years of navigating political parties just like this one had taught her a great deal about the art of ducking, dodging, diving, and weaving around unwanted conversation. that no matter how diligent you were someone was always going to get the drop on you and drag you into at least one.
==========
“Goodness, I don’t remember any monsters being on the guest list.” The little man gasped.
“Well I never—” Alice was just about tired of all these comments and ready to snap back when one of the guardsmen she’d commandeered earlier spoke up to say something clever on her behalf. “Would watch your mouth if I was you, sir. That’s the Duchess of Gluesington you’re speaking too.” Traveled a long way to get here just for you to insult her, did she?”
“You’re lucky she’s so forgiving.” The other chimed in.
“Otherwise you might find yourself stuck to a wall somewhere.”
Flabbergasted beyond words the snooty little woolen man wandered away and the last of Alice’s anger dispersed like carbonated bubbles across the surface of her sticky pink flesh, then it was gone, she adjusted her skirts which were themselves made of a nice sturdy fabric that didn’t cling overmuch to her new body type. She was getting more and more used to this.
“Thank you for standing up for me gentlemen.”
“Think nothin’ of it, Miss Ansegisel.”
“You’re our boss now.”
“And I’ve wanted an excuse to threaten someone at one of these parties for a while now anyways.”
“That’s a very bad habit,” She chastised. “But I will forgive it for the time being. That said, I did not come here to mingle, I am here on a mission--”
“To spread your love to the whole Yarniverse.”
“To bind everyone together for eternity.”
“No.” She said sharply, decisively, and they seemed crestfallen at the finality of it. “I’m here at the request of a friend but he is—how do I say this in the politest way possible—very obtuse I’m afraid. I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for. Nor am I familiar with your dimension. If you boys could spread out and begin scanning the crowd for anything out of place, then I would be most thankful.”
One raised his stubby doll arm.
“I found somethin’.”
“Is it me?”
“It’s you.”
“Something other than me.”
The other raised his arm.
“I also found something.”
“Is it also me?”
“No ma’am.”
“Well out with it then.”
“Would you consider a red panda on the roof of the palace to be strange?”
“I suppose it depends on where you are, Red Pandas are fairly common in some zoos, are they here?” Alice adjusted her glasses and recalling her time on Earth-T0R3 deduced that Cookieham Palace was a very unclever attempt at naming the life-sized recreation of Buckingham Palace which loomed over all of them. Sweeping past wafer walls and ice cream cone ballistae she spotted a very fuzzy little red man on the periphery of her vision peering down at them all from above, dressed in a manner almost as out of place as her own though tragically without the cozy comfort of a blanket to protect him from the cold breeze all around them.
“No ma’am, I do believe this is the first one I’ve ever seen in person.”
“Then I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad place to start…”
“That’s not quite as subtle as I was hoping, I don’t suppose glitter monsters are commonplace?”
“Not in the Youknitted Kingdom they ain’t, ma’am.”
It would just have to do, so on Alice roved, diving into the waiting sea of partygoers with her guards, leaving behind a pair of half-melted plastic heels bubbling and hissing in the alley where she’d come. Ten thousand years of navigating political parties just like this one had taught her a great deal about the art of ducking, dodging, diving, and weaving around unwanted conversation. that no matter how diligent you were someone was always going to get the drop on you and drag you into at least one.
==========
“Goodness, I don’t remember any monsters being on the guest list.” The little man gasped.
“Well I never—” Alice was just about tired of all these comments and ready to snap back when one of the guardsmen she’d commandeered earlier spoke up to say something clever on her behalf. “Would watch your mouth if I was you, sir. That’s the Duchess of Gluesington you’re speaking too.” Traveled a long way to get here just for you to insult her, did she?”
“You’re lucky she’s so forgiving.” The other chimed in.
“Otherwise you might find yourself stuck to a wall somewhere.”
Flabbergasted beyond words the snooty little woolen man wandered away and the last of Alice’s anger dispersed like carbonated bubbles across the surface of her sticky pink flesh, then it was gone, she adjusted her skirts which were themselves made of a nice sturdy fabric that didn’t cling overmuch to her new body type. She was getting more and more used to this.
“Thank you for standing up for me gentlemen.”
“Think nothin’ of it, Miss Ansegisel.”
“You’re our boss now.”
“And I’ve wanted an excuse to threaten someone at one of these parties for a while now anyways.”
“That’s a very bad habit,” She chastised. “But I will forgive it for the time being. That said, I did not come here to mingle, I am here on a mission--”
“To spread your love to the whole Yarniverse.”
“To bind everyone together for eternity.”
“No.” She said sharply, decisively, and they seemed crestfallen at the finality of it. “I’m here at the request of a friend but he is—how do I say this in the politest way possible—very obtuse I’m afraid. I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for. Nor am I familiar with your dimension. If you boys could spread out and begin scanning the crowd for anything out of place, then I would be most thankful.”
One raised his stubby doll arm.
“I found somethin’.”
“Is it me?”
“It’s you.”
“Something other than me.”
The other raised his arm.
“I also found something.”
“Is it also me?”
“No ma’am.”
“Well out with it then.”
“Would you consider a red panda on the roof of the palace to be strange?”
“I suppose it depends on where you are, Red Pandas are fairly common in some zoos, are they here?” Alice adjusted her glasses and recalling her time on Earth-T0R3 deduced that Cookieham Palace was a very unclever attempt at naming the life-sized recreation of Buckingham Palace which loomed over all of them. Sweeping past wafer walls and ice cream cone ballistae she spotted a very fuzzy little red man on the periphery of her vision peering down at them all from above, dressed in a manner almost as out of place as her own though tragically without the cozy comfort of a blanket to protect him from the cold breeze all around them.
“No ma’am, I do believe this is the first one I’ve ever seen in person.”
“Then I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad place to start…”
GM
I'm a shitty, unclear, vague, ambiguous writer so there's no point in me participating in this community anymore.
Divorarel I Can Boogie
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
On the last episode, Alice successfully spotted Eti, but she wasn't the only one.
Unfortunately, so had everyone else.
Little woolen soldiers did their very best to dash the possibility of a peaceful resolution from the table as they took aim with their slender rifles and fired row upon row of—what were they—thumbtacks? The flat kind with the wide metal butt so that they glistened in the faux sunlight as they stuck the edge of the building and drove the scurrying red thing to burrowing through the roof.
‘Oh bother,’ She could heard Winn Poh rolling his eyes as she plucked up her skirts and began bullying her way through the crowd with all the grace of a snail, [Not very effective is it?] A voice rang. Familiar enough with telepathic communication Alice was quick to discover that the mysterious stranger was ringing her from within, disconnected from her own consciousness, she could surmise that it was the original host and perhaps the source of her newfound powers.
‘I don’t suppose you’d have any advice.’
[You could always order them out of the way.]
And when Alice peered at the crowd she knew it was right. Though her time in the plaza had been short at least half of the occupants in her immediate vicinity were staring right at her, voices ringing in her head ranging from ‘what a curious little man’ to ‘what will I have for dinner tonight’ but always punctuated by the singular focal concern that their actions ought to be approved by Lady Alice first. That they would starve on the spot if she did not tell them to feast upon whatever it was that little men and women made of knitted bundles ate when they returned home and she said…
‘No thank you, I don’t want that kind of power over others, I refuse it once I’ll refuse it again.’
[Fascinating, you seem very experienced with this kind of thing.]
‘With brainwashers and mindsludgers? Yes, I would say that I’ve dealt with my fair share.’
[He isn’t nearly so experienced, are you sure you can stop him alone?]
‘…’
[Here, I’ll give you a hint.]
Alice frowned only to find, look at that, in slinging her arms forward the pink goo oozing out from under her sleeves streeeeeeetched all the way up to the tower until they hit the wall with a wet splat. Just as soon as it happened they contracted dragging her up to the buildings edge where she found herself clinging to the balcony once again like a snail trying to climb its way up, albeit far more effective and less likely to die reaching its destination. People gawked and the guards, many of whom were still outside the parameter of her influence, took aim only to have their rifles grabbed or grappled or shoved out of the way.
‘They’re—’
[It’s their natural instinct to protect you, they love you after all, that’s my power.]
“Alice, is it? I’m gon’a push Mister A’s button!”
She wasn’t alone in this adventure, Eti had been undergoing his own revelation, and now with as chipper a voice as any man she’d ever heard bringing in the apocalypse he announced that—well—you read the damn dialogue and if you were a good spectator and read the previous post you know that Alice shouted back with a picture perfect…
“What button? No, it’s a trap—”
Confetti blasted everywhere and the world changed, something felt odd, felt very heavy overhead.
“Welcome Alice and Eti to the Yarni-Earth!”
Mr A’s voice echoed from every corner like the trumpets of heaven themselves, and people cheered, didn’t really know what they were cheering but they clapped along anyways because wasn’t this all so very festive. The King had really outdone himself this time around. And Alice, she looked at Eti, clinging to the windowsill with concern in those big gooey pink jellybean eyes, “Eti? Are you okay? We ought to leave this place now…”
Unfortunately, so had everyone else.
Little woolen soldiers did their very best to dash the possibility of a peaceful resolution from the table as they took aim with their slender rifles and fired row upon row of—what were they—thumbtacks? The flat kind with the wide metal butt so that they glistened in the faux sunlight as they stuck the edge of the building and drove the scurrying red thing to burrowing through the roof.
‘Oh bother,’ She could heard Winn Poh rolling his eyes as she plucked up her skirts and began bullying her way through the crowd with all the grace of a snail, [Not very effective is it?] A voice rang. Familiar enough with telepathic communication Alice was quick to discover that the mysterious stranger was ringing her from within, disconnected from her own consciousness, she could surmise that it was the original host and perhaps the source of her newfound powers.
‘I don’t suppose you’d have any advice.’
[You could always order them out of the way.]
And when Alice peered at the crowd she knew it was right. Though her time in the plaza had been short at least half of the occupants in her immediate vicinity were staring right at her, voices ringing in her head ranging from ‘what a curious little man’ to ‘what will I have for dinner tonight’ but always punctuated by the singular focal concern that their actions ought to be approved by Lady Alice first. That they would starve on the spot if she did not tell them to feast upon whatever it was that little men and women made of knitted bundles ate when they returned home and she said…
‘No thank you, I don’t want that kind of power over others, I refuse it once I’ll refuse it again.’
[Fascinating, you seem very experienced with this kind of thing.]
‘With brainwashers and mindsludgers? Yes, I would say that I’ve dealt with my fair share.’
[He isn’t nearly so experienced, are you sure you can stop him alone?]
‘…’
[Here, I’ll give you a hint.]
Alice frowned only to find, look at that, in slinging her arms forward the pink goo oozing out from under her sleeves streeeeeeetched all the way up to the tower until they hit the wall with a wet splat. Just as soon as it happened they contracted dragging her up to the buildings edge where she found herself clinging to the balcony once again like a snail trying to climb its way up, albeit far more effective and less likely to die reaching its destination. People gawked and the guards, many of whom were still outside the parameter of her influence, took aim only to have their rifles grabbed or grappled or shoved out of the way.
‘They’re—’
[It’s their natural instinct to protect you, they love you after all, that’s my power.]
“Alice, is it? I’m gon’a push Mister A’s button!”
She wasn’t alone in this adventure, Eti had been undergoing his own revelation, and now with as chipper a voice as any man she’d ever heard bringing in the apocalypse he announced that—well—you read the damn dialogue and if you were a good spectator and read the previous post you know that Alice shouted back with a picture perfect…
“What button? No, it’s a trap—”
Confetti blasted everywhere and the world changed, something felt odd, felt very heavy overhead.
“Welcome Alice and Eti to the Yarni-Earth!”
Mr A’s voice echoed from every corner like the trumpets of heaven themselves, and people cheered, didn’t really know what they were cheering but they clapped along anyways because wasn’t this all so very festive. The King had really outdone himself this time around. And Alice, she looked at Eti, clinging to the windowsill with concern in those big gooey pink jellybean eyes, “Eti? Are you okay? We ought to leave this place now…”
GM
I'm a shitty, unclear, vague, ambiguous writer so there's no point in me participating in this community anymore.
Divorarel I Can Boogie
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
[Quickly, before Father fills his head with lies!]
“Wh—”
[Stop wasting time communicating with him, it’s pointless, when Father speaks he’ll listen!]
“…”
[Mortals do not have the capacity to discern truth from lies whence they hear his voice, fool!]
“Excuse me, young woman, but you need to learn your manners if you want people to listen.”
Alice, notably arguing with herself during a moment where she was trying to appear sane, could not hear the voice that Eti was hearing just as he—likely—could not hear hers but she could feel it there like the vibration of someone else swimming in a pool just out of your sight. She could even feeel the methodical cruelty behind it and she could see the little twinkle of defiance in Eti’s eyes as, true to the voice’s prediction, he decided to ignore her warning and press the comically out of place button in a world built of things comically out of place.
HYUK HYUK HYUK
Nothing good and wholesome had ever laughed in such a vile way. The alien voice distorted the yarn-woven dimensions with each unsightly chuckle but such malice was universal. Vibrations rippled through Alice’s pink body in what she could only describe as an unsettling sensation, in her long life she’d fought many battles, but her natural body was made of stone. This, she imagined, is what a human felt—or would have felt like—in the brief moments before an explosion made their meat-sack body pop like a balloon. She was dizzy after listening to the voice laugh and were it not for the adhesive nature of grasp on the stone she might have tumbled from the clocktower in those moments where its trunk split in two and its laughter filled the air, its one evil clock eye wickedly happy just to be alive, a tongue of once plush-now sticky carpet lolling out into the naked air as if it could lick the sun up…
“Oo-oo-oo… I’ve had just about enough of this.”
Alice had matured considerably since those days when she had first crafted her legend. Grown into a wise matriarch of a woman even if she had not technically grown at all. But part of her would always still be the rowdy young hero who thought with her fists before her head. Part of her would always have a little bit of a temper, as her free hand—one reaching for Eti, now reeled itself back back back. Until she could nearly feel the floor brushing her knuckles. In the span of a thought it had stretched all the way to the ground level and clenched into a fist such that by the time she already realized the impulse the react with violence it was already slingshotting into the side of the vile living clocktower’s stone face.
[h1]WHALLOP[/hi]
Stone shattered and flung in every direction but only directly beneath her impugning fist. Leaving a dent in the shape of her knuckles around where the towers cheek would have been had it been a human, the rest of it reacted with a comical disregard for physics, slouching towards the side as a man who had just been knocked out did and sagging uncomfortably into the courtyard on the other side heedless of any little yarn people who it might have hurt along the way. And Alice was steaming mad. Still, I might add, very cute in that way which a cartoon character mimics the greater parts of a human while disregarding the bumps including swelled up cheeks and a furrowed brow, and literal steam pouring from her scalp.
“Yo, lady! What’s the trap, and who set it? Who is ‘A” — the voice I’m hearing?”
“A-a-aah… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Alice stammered out. “I really do not know for sure. Mister A is, who he is—what he is, I cannot tell you only that he is a real… a real troublemaker. He’s a naughty-naughty man but he is not an evil one. I suspect, I suspect that something vile has snuck into this play place of his and is using it to his advantage, what I cannot say.” Alice had no idea what a Cizran was, if this was even a Cizran, if this was not some vile part of Autun’s personality that had bubbled up or the vengeful ghost of an exiled civilization. Maybe, it was nothing so convoluted as that, maybe this was just a game but it was not fun. “Regardless, the safest thing we can do is leave immediately. Things are quickly spiraling out of control and I do not know how long I can keep a handle on it…”
She said, as though she had control of it right now. As if the little yarn people were not stampeding to be away, the ones she hadn’t inadvertently infected, as if there were not a small but growing number of yarn people with pink slime oozing out from between their seams slowly closing in Eti eager to grab a hold of him for their queen. To grab him. And if he lost a few limbs in the struggle to them that was just fine, limbs could easily be sown back on in this world, and the little pain that accompanied it would go a long way in making him more compliant later on. Alice would be mad. But the voice promised them that her anger would be fleeting, she would forgive them, because heroes always forgave people anyways.
“Wh—”
[Stop wasting time communicating with him, it’s pointless, when Father speaks he’ll listen!]
“…”
[Mortals do not have the capacity to discern truth from lies whence they hear his voice, fool!]
“Excuse me, young woman, but you need to learn your manners if you want people to listen.”
Alice, notably arguing with herself during a moment where she was trying to appear sane, could not hear the voice that Eti was hearing just as he—likely—could not hear hers but she could feel it there like the vibration of someone else swimming in a pool just out of your sight. She could even feeel the methodical cruelty behind it and she could see the little twinkle of defiance in Eti’s eyes as, true to the voice’s prediction, he decided to ignore her warning and press the comically out of place button in a world built of things comically out of place.
HYUK HYUK HYUK
Nothing good and wholesome had ever laughed in such a vile way. The alien voice distorted the yarn-woven dimensions with each unsightly chuckle but such malice was universal. Vibrations rippled through Alice’s pink body in what she could only describe as an unsettling sensation, in her long life she’d fought many battles, but her natural body was made of stone. This, she imagined, is what a human felt—or would have felt like—in the brief moments before an explosion made their meat-sack body pop like a balloon. She was dizzy after listening to the voice laugh and were it not for the adhesive nature of grasp on the stone she might have tumbled from the clocktower in those moments where its trunk split in two and its laughter filled the air, its one evil clock eye wickedly happy just to be alive, a tongue of once plush-now sticky carpet lolling out into the naked air as if it could lick the sun up…
“Oo-oo-oo… I’ve had just about enough of this.”
Alice had matured considerably since those days when she had first crafted her legend. Grown into a wise matriarch of a woman even if she had not technically grown at all. But part of her would always still be the rowdy young hero who thought with her fists before her head. Part of her would always have a little bit of a temper, as her free hand—one reaching for Eti, now reeled itself back back back. Until she could nearly feel the floor brushing her knuckles. In the span of a thought it had stretched all the way to the ground level and clenched into a fist such that by the time she already realized the impulse the react with violence it was already slingshotting into the side of the vile living clocktower’s stone face.
[h1]WHALLOP[/hi]
Stone shattered and flung in every direction but only directly beneath her impugning fist. Leaving a dent in the shape of her knuckles around where the towers cheek would have been had it been a human, the rest of it reacted with a comical disregard for physics, slouching towards the side as a man who had just been knocked out did and sagging uncomfortably into the courtyard on the other side heedless of any little yarn people who it might have hurt along the way. And Alice was steaming mad. Still, I might add, very cute in that way which a cartoon character mimics the greater parts of a human while disregarding the bumps including swelled up cheeks and a furrowed brow, and literal steam pouring from her scalp.
“Yo, lady! What’s the trap, and who set it? Who is ‘A” — the voice I’m hearing?”
“A-a-aah… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Alice stammered out. “I really do not know for sure. Mister A is, who he is—what he is, I cannot tell you only that he is a real… a real troublemaker. He’s a naughty-naughty man but he is not an evil one. I suspect, I suspect that something vile has snuck into this play place of his and is using it to his advantage, what I cannot say.” Alice had no idea what a Cizran was, if this was even a Cizran, if this was not some vile part of Autun’s personality that had bubbled up or the vengeful ghost of an exiled civilization. Maybe, it was nothing so convoluted as that, maybe this was just a game but it was not fun. “Regardless, the safest thing we can do is leave immediately. Things are quickly spiraling out of control and I do not know how long I can keep a handle on it…”
She said, as though she had control of it right now. As if the little yarn people were not stampeding to be away, the ones she hadn’t inadvertently infected, as if there were not a small but growing number of yarn people with pink slime oozing out from between their seams slowly closing in Eti eager to grab a hold of him for their queen. To grab him. And if he lost a few limbs in the struggle to them that was just fine, limbs could easily be sown back on in this world, and the little pain that accompanied it would go a long way in making him more compliant later on. Alice would be mad. But the voice promised them that her anger would be fleeting, she would forgive them, because heroes always forgave people anyways.
GM
I'm a shitty, unclear, vague, ambiguous writer so there's no point in me participating in this community anymore.
Divorarel I Can Boogie
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Was an old woman in her heart, if not in her body or her mind, but you shouldn’t tell a woman that. Though one could be forgiven for not realizing how amazing Alice looked for her age when she was trapped in a vessel of strawberry red glitter glue. One could be forgiven for thinking Alice had bad intentions for Eti when a horde of glue sniffing yarn zombies surrounded him forcing his furry hand to pull the trigger, blasting a hole not through one of her reluctant minions, but through a completely innocent woolie woman who just happened to be a little too close to the scene for her own good and now a veritable mob descended upon him.
Auspiciously enough, the closely packed jostling bodies was perfect for transmitting the gluefection.
“I’m sorry Eti, this is for your own good.”
She murmured to herself, too far away to be heard, still clinging to the side of the clocktower that she’d just knocked out and no longer projecting her voice down to the crowd below as she once had.
[Good, subdue him before he gets too strong.]
Alice ignored the nagging voice inside as she plucked a piece of glue from her body and gave it a little whirl, the part that her fingers had pinched extending and extending and extending, until eventually it had extended to the point where it no longer seemed possible that there were was so much mass contained in such a small body. It happened in about three revolutions. Then she slung it down towards the crowd where even now Eti attempted to fend off the yarnlings with his makeshift lance. It was no smaller than the snot a child flicks out the window during an oppressive drive at first but it rapidly ballooned in size until eventually—upon reaching him—it was suddenly large enough to pulverize the little red panda into the ground but instead swallowed him up like a greedy mouth. Trapping him, as was her intent, inside of a bubble of strawberry red with a semi-translucent shell that was incredibly resistant to the battering damage of the yarn people outside and ideally hit hard enough to disarm him of his weapons as well.
“Eti,” Alice called out, shouting once more. “I am no longer asking for your cooperation. You are leaving this world with me one way or another.”
Auspiciously enough, the closely packed jostling bodies was perfect for transmitting the gluefection.
“I’m sorry Eti, this is for your own good.”
She murmured to herself, too far away to be heard, still clinging to the side of the clocktower that she’d just knocked out and no longer projecting her voice down to the crowd below as she once had.
[Good, subdue him before he gets too strong.]
Alice ignored the nagging voice inside as she plucked a piece of glue from her body and gave it a little whirl, the part that her fingers had pinched extending and extending and extending, until eventually it had extended to the point where it no longer seemed possible that there were was so much mass contained in such a small body. It happened in about three revolutions. Then she slung it down towards the crowd where even now Eti attempted to fend off the yarnlings with his makeshift lance. It was no smaller than the snot a child flicks out the window during an oppressive drive at first but it rapidly ballooned in size until eventually—upon reaching him—it was suddenly large enough to pulverize the little red panda into the ground but instead swallowed him up like a greedy mouth. Trapping him, as was her intent, inside of a bubble of strawberry red with a semi-translucent shell that was incredibly resistant to the battering damage of the yarn people outside and ideally hit hard enough to disarm him of his weapons as well.
“Eti,” Alice called out, shouting once more. “I am no longer asking for your cooperation. You are leaving this world with me one way or another.”
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