It was different this time.
He was in the bowels of a massive machine, ancient writing and twisting pictograms covering every inch and glowing with power. The air physically hummed with ambient magic, giving off the feeling of being inside a thunderstorm. Across him, his hair began rising, almost electrified by the conditions he was in.
Above hum huge grinding cogs gave out an uproarious amount of noise, closely followed by steam pistons and the crackling of long glass tubes with electricity running through them. Nearby a steam furnace stood roaring, white hot flames licking the glass port with glee. He stood in awe of the sheer immensity of it all, it seemed as if he was standing in the very centre of a titanic factory, as far as he could see huge brass constructs spread in a unbroken line, a network of engines powering the unseen central core of the machine in whatever esoteric purpose it had been fashioned for. Passing along this he darted down a corridor lined with strange lines ending with circles, with many more branching off into the depths of the bizarre machine like construct.
He walked for seemingly an eternity through halls of various purposes, some were alchemical and held huge vats of components for mysterious purposes, and others were huge lines of moving plates, on which strange machine like constructs created bizarre and fantastical devices, some even including metal limbs and others reminiscent of his puzzle boxes. Other rooms seemed to be dealing with raw material such as iron ore, moving it towards a titanic structure involved in smelting, containing massive crucibles of melted iron. Further rooms contained huge stockpiles of organised metal girders, gears, machinery, coal and brass.
From afar he saw the occasional dark shadowy figure, clothed in black covered in orange symbology. They appeared to be ponies, although the comparison was somewhat a loose one, a mass of brass tubing covered the majority of their faces and plating, at least one eye was a simple glass orb emplaced into where its socket would have been, glowing bright orange from the dark of their hood. Some of them stood on metal legs, others had reinforced spines with a series of mechanical arms which twitched and moved up and down, arranging small mechanical devices into intricate works of art. They didn’t see him, and they didn’t respond to stimuli of any sort, continuing their work. Occasionally one would enter the room with a series of books and metal plates detailing a type of detailed but unknown script, some even seemed able to fly with fast wing beats on long, delicate, sharp wings. Despite the focus of their work he could see the movements of a powerful mind behind all the wiring and metal, there was a fervour there for almost religious dedication to their work, occasionally he even heard them murmur something which sounded almost like psalms or religious teachings.
As he progressed, he saw more and more things, even alchemical laboratories and immense power stations infused by raw lightning storms and other unknown means of power, not limited to magical engines which glowed violet in their dark citadels of steel and brass. Across all these things however, huge pipes and networks of cables spread, giving a strange but reassuring hum to the almost eldritch world around him. He had seen no windows, but something told him he could not have been on Equestria, although he had not assurance of this as a fact, something just felt off.
Finally it seemed he had reached the centre after traversing the strange world which he had entered in. Two great mechanical doors opened before them, opening like some strange otherworldly metal flower, showing the way across an immense bridge surrounded by black water. As he crossed he saw a large domed building, showing more signs of being a palace than part of the huge industrial workhouse which surrounded it. Its domes and spires stretched high into the great spherical orb which seemed to consist of this level of the machine. Surrounding the ornate bridge huge statues stood, each one consisting of an Alicorn in a different position, although with no clear details to it. As he trotted across he stared into the pitch black waters and wondered what it really was, beneath it all he could see some faint glowing lights, the same as he saw in the engines… in fact the lights seemed to be lined up in huge systematic lines, and the occasional violet lightning coursing across to the next through the waters.
Could it be some sort of conductive fluid?
In this case, was it that this was simply a very ornate reactor core for some strange unknown energy?
What it could be powering he had no idea, but he was determined to cross the bridge and find out what lay beyond. As he made his way across the long bridge, he realised that despite what he thought, the palace did not in fact stand at the edge of the sphere; it was directly in the middle. Furthermore the bridge was a lot more detailed than he had first assumed, covered in little figures of ponies, dragons, griffons and mules all involved in some form of work, occasionally at central points this would be broken off as the figures stood before three others, themselves bowed in reverence. He could not tell whether all the figures were Alicorns… only one was definitely winged and horned, but he felt that he did not have time for a closer examination.
Finally reaching the massive domed construct, he pulled a mechanical lever to the side and it began to slide open, lifted by a metal arm which raised it high up into the air. Trotting through he was stunned at the opulence of the place… it was fit for a king… or an emperor. The same wall pattern he had seen elsewhere was here, but in between dancing figures leaped, and the intensity of the detail was even more profound. Silk banners hung from the roof, and huge Saddle Arabian fineries and tables covered many portions of the various rooms. Everywhere there were books, but not the paper and ink kind. It seemed as if whoever had designed then had viewed durability as a primary necessity. Each book consisted of hard brass metal sheets, covered in a tiny esoteric scrawl that looked almost like a code of sorts in an unknown language, the same he had seen across those books carried by the strange half machine ponies he had encountered.
As he worked his way through the palace, he encountered a great metal stairway leading down deep into the belly of the palace. Curious he worked his way down, admiring the huge bronze lions which guarded a great gold door. As he lifted a hoof, he pushed it against one of the great arched doors and started when it opened easily.
As he walked in he gasped, before them a magical orb glowed brightly in the centre of the room.
It was the world, each continent, each ocean, each mountain, each desert, every grassland and each jungle, all in exquisite detail.
It was beautiful.
Behind it he saw a figure, and as he turned his head he realised who it was. Its stance was different and its horn was aglow with magical energies, but it was the same one from the dream before… it was the machine-like Alicorn. Once again it raised its eyes in a rapturous stupor and smiled at him in is strangely twisted way.
“Behold the Mundus.” It gestured “wondrous.”
Turning its eyes back to him, it smiled again, oil spilling over its chin, and spoke words which resonated throughout his mind, consuming all.
“हम मशीनों की आवाज कर रहे हैं.”
--
Scalpel blinked awake, temporarily stunned by a wave of information and dreamlike haze. He had been leaning back on a chair after his work on the second one, and must have gone into a doze and drifted off.
With the completion of his second project , he figured he’d give have a good shot for tonight’s work, with a little luck he’d be able to get both brains and brawn compared to Grunge’s singular brawn. Still, right now he had some ideas to write about, these dreams although peculiar provided a sudden good source if ideas and possibilities… he already had some planning to do with what he had seen, and even more detail on the Machine-Alicorn.
He must record this new information… although he did wonder where these dreams were coming from. Regardless, he thought it was about time to renew his contacts in Moon and Star and other territories, just to make sure they knew he was alive, but that could come afterwards.
EldritchOne
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Nephren-Ka Was Here Bruh.
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I whip my feathered serpent back and forth.
Most Recent Posts
Been quiet. Most peeps busy?
Yay! Arbitrary collective punishment!
With a flicker of magic, the blinds were pulled open and the morning light drenched his study. Due to the dream, Scalpel had awoken early and already descended into delving into his work. The design given to him in the dream was exquisite, If he ever could find the materials he might be able to recreate it in full, until that point diagrams and information lists would have to do. Pulling on a silken robe and slippers he wandered down from the labs upper level through a dusty stone stairway, but stopped when he reached the bottom in surprise.
Grunge was currently standing inactive over the dead corpse of a unicorn.
“Well, that corpse wasn’t there before.”
Scalpel wandered across and Grunge jerked up from hibernation, letting out a low growl of approval as Scalpel scratched the back of his head, one of his front hooves twitching.
“I take it he picked the door?”
“Bad pony.”
“Quite Grunge”
Scalpel circumnavigated the large cyborg and pushed the open door closed and locked it again. Turning back to the corpse he sized it up, it was of a decent size, if a bit underweight, and its neck was bent at an odd angle from where Grunge had broken it. The coat and mane were blue and black, both quite tarnished and muddy from a life of shadows, sweat and travelling, flitting through his pockets he encountered various lockpicking devices and a small bag of crystals which could doubtless be used in his experiments.
Overall, a decent specimen.
Dragging the corpse across to a workbench, he threw it on top with a dull thud and eyed his other creation. It had been a Earth pony once, now it would serve as a shining example of ressurectionist theory. Sorting through his saddlebags he managed to scrap together at least half of the materials he needed to create another from spare parts, and laid it out before the dead corpse.
“I shall have to make some more” He grumbled, frowning somewhat.
Deciding on more immediate concerns however, he turned and went into the kitchen to whip up some cold breakfast of cheese and bread, once the others woke up he might send out Nocturne or Honey to pick up supplies.
Wandering upstairs he began to whistle a merry tune as he picked out his clothes for the evening, a red waistcoat with silver buttons and silk shirt, as well as his long black leather bloodstained apron. Grabbing a lantern from the laboratory, he lit it up and opened the houses basement with a silver key, making his way steadily down the ancient stairway into the darkness.
As he reached the bottom he raised the lamp above himself and lit up part of the room in a orange glow. Before him stood a series of furnaces, machinery, engines and vast piles of dusty coal and timber. Long cables webbed their way across the ceiling, wiring, power cables and steel lines with a series of oil lamps along the way. Huge tubes redirected the gasses and smoke from the furnaces upwards through a series of chimneys, and further tubes redirected steam to serve productive purposes, controlled by the intermediary valves which alternated the machineries purpose.
This was his industry, this was his means of production.
Striding forwards he began lighting the oil lamps along his way with a quick flicker of magic, further basking this underground world in a warm glow. Slowly he began to build up small fires in the furnaces and stoked it up further with coal.
With a blinking of lights, the rumble of moving gears and the growing whistling of steam, the great steel leviathan began to slowly come to life.
***
Honey awoke with a start, covered in sweat as breathed heavily and erratically amidst the silken blankets of her bed, the image once again coursing through her memories.
That Dream again…
She wiped her head with forehoof and reached for the glass of water which was standing on the small side table, taking a long draught before placing it back down and collapsing again into the pillows.
He would come frequently, the stallion in the memory, although not frequently enough to have her in a state constant tension when going to sleep. He would just emerge and make her dreams nightmares, a towering orange form coated in heavy plated steel, bringing a great saw down on her horn and grinding it back and forth in a sickeningly patient speed. Inch by inch it would dig deeper, cut further into her horn until she feared it would simply break off with the lightest touch. Blood would gush down her face as she struggled against it, screaming, kicking, begging, but nothing would stop it, nothing would make it end faster. At the very last second, just when her horn was about to break entirely away, she would wake up, sweat drenching her as she fought back the tears and the sorrow.
That Dream…
He couldn’t hurt her anymore… not after what had been done to him, Uncle had seen to that.
Slowly she shifted her weight, using her front hooves to push herself into a sitting position and steadying herself. She turned to look to her side and saw the wheels which now were her back legs after the other pony had gotten them… Uncle would deal with him soon too… as he had done with all the others.
She charged up her magic and it splutter into life, dragging the wheels forward and beginning the process of strapping themselves to the stumps which were her back legs. With that completed she grappled her way down the bed and onto the floor, shifting back and forth to feel the constraints, and once satisfied made her way to the door.
Travelling down the corridor she paused before her Uncle’s study, its door ajar and light on. She walked in and looked around, No uncle, but what was there was one of his open note books. Curious she climbed up onto the seat and sat ungainly upon it, peering at the sprawling manuscript.
Whatever uncle had thought of building, it most certainly was strange.
Even though she could barely grasp most of what was being said or portrayed, she managed to assern its unusual nature and definite complexity. What it might be, she couldn’t be sure, even with her Uncles training she was still years behind him and his immense studies. He said he was just a Doctor, but she knew his studies brought him an understanding of a vast variety of subjects, both modern and esoteric.
He was a very strange pony.
Jumping off, she continued her way down the hallway, but started surprised at an unusual sound coming from the guestroom.
It must be the Bat Pony.
Opening the door she peered into the bedroom and looked curiously at the strange entity.
For some reason she had decided to roost on the curtain pole, fanged mouth half ajar and making small squeaking sounds which must have been snores. She didn’t know what to make of this pony yet, although she appeared to be amiable enough and willing to support her Uncle in his research.
However, judging from the immense pile of bottles under the sleeping pony, she did have a drinking problem.
Honey raised an eyebrow.
I wonder how she managed to roost whilst intoxicated…
Suddenly with a thump the bat pony fell of its upside down perch and sprawled across the floor, She didn’t even wake up from her slumber, instead her snoring just grew louder.
Never mind then.
Bumping her way down the stairs she barely paused to acknowledge the corpse currently dangling halfway off her Uncles operation table. When it came to living with her Uncle, one grew accustomed to the presence of the dead. Below her the rumble and thunder of moving machinery became apparent, her Uncle must have restarted the engines which powered the house and the factory. Judging by the current hum of the floorboards, she believed they must have been at full capacity.
Searching around she couldn’t find anything to eat, Uncle must have munched on the last of the travel food. She could remember from her previous visit here there was a general goods store in town which would service their needs. Despite uncles sporadic and fleeting business, he always managed to collect a good measure of money wherever he went, the Cult deal had been especially commercially successful.
Rooting through the saddlebags, she managed to drag out a large bag of bits, searching through she siphoned off an ample portion. It seems she would go shopping for breakfast. Below her the muted sounds of harsh mechanisms started up as components of her Uncles research were being forged, and beneath it all she heard a happy sound of singing as her Uncle moved towards his goal.
She paused to look herself over, and frowned at the lair of dirt on her hooves, she needed a wash. With the engines on full output hot water would be freely available, and so she made her way up the stairs again and into the bathroom.
Getting herself in, she happily murmured in approval as the hot water began to wash the stress and the filth of the past few days away. It was the simple things in life, she thought, which were possibly the best. Levitating the soap she began to run it through her coat, working it in deep and seeing to her hair with some somewhat old shampoo. Once she was done she dried herself off with one of the thick fluffy towels in the bathroom and cast a simple drying spell.
Despite the damage done to her horn, Uncle said she was exceeding his expectations, and her magical ability was far above that of a normal unicorn. He had worked tirelessly to get her horn functioning again, endless series of tests and small magical spells further strengthening her hold over her natural power. Uncle said that despite the damage, it was perhaps a blessing, as the intensive work may have allowed her to tap into deep reserves of power which would have been unopened if the event of change had not occurred. She wasn’t so sure of that, but they were both jubilated when her horn had reconnected with her latent magic, they had celebrated with cake.
Passing along the corridor again she met the dark blurry eyed Bat Pony halfway and nodded to each other.
“Morning.”
“Mornink.”
The pony disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear the shower start up again as she returned from her room with her saddlebags. As she hopped down the stairs she paused before the inanimate form of Grunge beside the door, looking at him astutely. He started, and turned his head to look at her, recognition covering what remained of his features.
“Mz, Honey.”
“Grunge.”
She looked at him a few seconds more and the turned and opened the door with her magic, enjoying the rays of a fine morning sun as it topped the horizon, bathing her in warmth. Smiling, she stepped out, closing her Uncle and all his contraptions behind her, and began her way down the hill into the town, singing a merry song.
***
Nocturne made a cooing noise as the hot water rushed across her skin, she had missed hot running water, the Inn didn’t serve anything but cold for residents. This brought back memories of her father’s great Castle in the deep north of Equestria, with all its finery and luxuries. She missed him a lot, his smile, the booming laugh, and even his gothic stories, if not his scratchy beard.
Nocturne sighed, she missed The Old Country.
Perhaps through the doctor she might make her way back there, to a place between the Griffon mountains and untouched by the effects of war, famine and disease. She hoped it was still the same as it had been before the war, if not…
Best not to think about it.
Stepping out after a considerable period of time she shook herself off like a wolf, her fur going spiky and somewhat amusing. Wiping the rest off with a towel she skipped her way down the main laboratory and paused before the corpse.
It looked fresh.
Dr Scalpel emerged from a door leading to a cellar whistling whilst carting out several components consistent with their half machine pony they had created last night. He saw her and smiled, tipping more of the machinery on the table before the corpse.
“As you see, we had a midnight visitor, Grunge dealt with the intruder when he woke up from hibernation.”
“I see…”
“Anyway, I am beginning work on him too, a suitable match for the other, No? I have enough components to complete him too, we will open a small rift of magic to power them tonight.”
She nodded, somewhat concerned at his enthusiasm over this newly dead body, but shrugged it off, the doctor did seem to have an odd obsession over such things.
“I believe Honey has gone out to get us supplies” continued Scalpel as he began to wash and sterilize his equipment, “No doubt she will be back later, I sent Grunge to keep an eye on her from afar, but given the quiet nature of this town I doubt it will come too much.”
Nocturnes stomach rumbled and she gave him an embarrassed look “I hope she comes back soon, I could do with some breakfast.”
“Well, I hope that won’t inhibit your help with this one, with what you learned from last one we may well be able to complete this in a vastly reduced period of time.”
“Excellent Herr Doctor.”
Grunge was currently standing inactive over the dead corpse of a unicorn.
“Well, that corpse wasn’t there before.”
Scalpel wandered across and Grunge jerked up from hibernation, letting out a low growl of approval as Scalpel scratched the back of his head, one of his front hooves twitching.
“I take it he picked the door?”
“Bad pony.”
“Quite Grunge”
Scalpel circumnavigated the large cyborg and pushed the open door closed and locked it again. Turning back to the corpse he sized it up, it was of a decent size, if a bit underweight, and its neck was bent at an odd angle from where Grunge had broken it. The coat and mane were blue and black, both quite tarnished and muddy from a life of shadows, sweat and travelling, flitting through his pockets he encountered various lockpicking devices and a small bag of crystals which could doubtless be used in his experiments.
Overall, a decent specimen.
Dragging the corpse across to a workbench, he threw it on top with a dull thud and eyed his other creation. It had been a Earth pony once, now it would serve as a shining example of ressurectionist theory. Sorting through his saddlebags he managed to scrap together at least half of the materials he needed to create another from spare parts, and laid it out before the dead corpse.
“I shall have to make some more” He grumbled, frowning somewhat.
Deciding on more immediate concerns however, he turned and went into the kitchen to whip up some cold breakfast of cheese and bread, once the others woke up he might send out Nocturne or Honey to pick up supplies.
Wandering upstairs he began to whistle a merry tune as he picked out his clothes for the evening, a red waistcoat with silver buttons and silk shirt, as well as his long black leather bloodstained apron. Grabbing a lantern from the laboratory, he lit it up and opened the houses basement with a silver key, making his way steadily down the ancient stairway into the darkness.
As he reached the bottom he raised the lamp above himself and lit up part of the room in a orange glow. Before him stood a series of furnaces, machinery, engines and vast piles of dusty coal and timber. Long cables webbed their way across the ceiling, wiring, power cables and steel lines with a series of oil lamps along the way. Huge tubes redirected the gasses and smoke from the furnaces upwards through a series of chimneys, and further tubes redirected steam to serve productive purposes, controlled by the intermediary valves which alternated the machineries purpose.
This was his industry, this was his means of production.
Striding forwards he began lighting the oil lamps along his way with a quick flicker of magic, further basking this underground world in a warm glow. Slowly he began to build up small fires in the furnaces and stoked it up further with coal.
With a blinking of lights, the rumble of moving gears and the growing whistling of steam, the great steel leviathan began to slowly come to life.
***
Honey awoke with a start, covered in sweat as breathed heavily and erratically amidst the silken blankets of her bed, the image once again coursing through her memories.
That Dream again…
She wiped her head with forehoof and reached for the glass of water which was standing on the small side table, taking a long draught before placing it back down and collapsing again into the pillows.
He would come frequently, the stallion in the memory, although not frequently enough to have her in a state constant tension when going to sleep. He would just emerge and make her dreams nightmares, a towering orange form coated in heavy plated steel, bringing a great saw down on her horn and grinding it back and forth in a sickeningly patient speed. Inch by inch it would dig deeper, cut further into her horn until she feared it would simply break off with the lightest touch. Blood would gush down her face as she struggled against it, screaming, kicking, begging, but nothing would stop it, nothing would make it end faster. At the very last second, just when her horn was about to break entirely away, she would wake up, sweat drenching her as she fought back the tears and the sorrow.
That Dream…
He couldn’t hurt her anymore… not after what had been done to him, Uncle had seen to that.
Slowly she shifted her weight, using her front hooves to push herself into a sitting position and steadying herself. She turned to look to her side and saw the wheels which now were her back legs after the other pony had gotten them… Uncle would deal with him soon too… as he had done with all the others.
She charged up her magic and it splutter into life, dragging the wheels forward and beginning the process of strapping themselves to the stumps which were her back legs. With that completed she grappled her way down the bed and onto the floor, shifting back and forth to feel the constraints, and once satisfied made her way to the door.
Travelling down the corridor she paused before her Uncle’s study, its door ajar and light on. She walked in and looked around, No uncle, but what was there was one of his open note books. Curious she climbed up onto the seat and sat ungainly upon it, peering at the sprawling manuscript.
Whatever uncle had thought of building, it most certainly was strange.
Even though she could barely grasp most of what was being said or portrayed, she managed to assern its unusual nature and definite complexity. What it might be, she couldn’t be sure, even with her Uncles training she was still years behind him and his immense studies. He said he was just a Doctor, but she knew his studies brought him an understanding of a vast variety of subjects, both modern and esoteric.
He was a very strange pony.
Jumping off, she continued her way down the hallway, but started surprised at an unusual sound coming from the guestroom.
It must be the Bat Pony.
Opening the door she peered into the bedroom and looked curiously at the strange entity.
For some reason she had decided to roost on the curtain pole, fanged mouth half ajar and making small squeaking sounds which must have been snores. She didn’t know what to make of this pony yet, although she appeared to be amiable enough and willing to support her Uncle in his research.
However, judging from the immense pile of bottles under the sleeping pony, she did have a drinking problem.
Honey raised an eyebrow.
I wonder how she managed to roost whilst intoxicated…
Suddenly with a thump the bat pony fell of its upside down perch and sprawled across the floor, She didn’t even wake up from her slumber, instead her snoring just grew louder.
Never mind then.
Bumping her way down the stairs she barely paused to acknowledge the corpse currently dangling halfway off her Uncles operation table. When it came to living with her Uncle, one grew accustomed to the presence of the dead. Below her the rumble and thunder of moving machinery became apparent, her Uncle must have restarted the engines which powered the house and the factory. Judging by the current hum of the floorboards, she believed they must have been at full capacity.
Searching around she couldn’t find anything to eat, Uncle must have munched on the last of the travel food. She could remember from her previous visit here there was a general goods store in town which would service their needs. Despite uncles sporadic and fleeting business, he always managed to collect a good measure of money wherever he went, the Cult deal had been especially commercially successful.
Rooting through the saddlebags, she managed to drag out a large bag of bits, searching through she siphoned off an ample portion. It seems she would go shopping for breakfast. Below her the muted sounds of harsh mechanisms started up as components of her Uncles research were being forged, and beneath it all she heard a happy sound of singing as her Uncle moved towards his goal.
She paused to look herself over, and frowned at the lair of dirt on her hooves, she needed a wash. With the engines on full output hot water would be freely available, and so she made her way up the stairs again and into the bathroom.
Getting herself in, she happily murmured in approval as the hot water began to wash the stress and the filth of the past few days away. It was the simple things in life, she thought, which were possibly the best. Levitating the soap she began to run it through her coat, working it in deep and seeing to her hair with some somewhat old shampoo. Once she was done she dried herself off with one of the thick fluffy towels in the bathroom and cast a simple drying spell.
Despite the damage done to her horn, Uncle said she was exceeding his expectations, and her magical ability was far above that of a normal unicorn. He had worked tirelessly to get her horn functioning again, endless series of tests and small magical spells further strengthening her hold over her natural power. Uncle said that despite the damage, it was perhaps a blessing, as the intensive work may have allowed her to tap into deep reserves of power which would have been unopened if the event of change had not occurred. She wasn’t so sure of that, but they were both jubilated when her horn had reconnected with her latent magic, they had celebrated with cake.
Passing along the corridor again she met the dark blurry eyed Bat Pony halfway and nodded to each other.
“Morning.”
“Mornink.”
The pony disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear the shower start up again as she returned from her room with her saddlebags. As she hopped down the stairs she paused before the inanimate form of Grunge beside the door, looking at him astutely. He started, and turned his head to look at her, recognition covering what remained of his features.
“Mz, Honey.”
“Grunge.”
She looked at him a few seconds more and the turned and opened the door with her magic, enjoying the rays of a fine morning sun as it topped the horizon, bathing her in warmth. Smiling, she stepped out, closing her Uncle and all his contraptions behind her, and began her way down the hill into the town, singing a merry song.
***
Nocturne made a cooing noise as the hot water rushed across her skin, she had missed hot running water, the Inn didn’t serve anything but cold for residents. This brought back memories of her father’s great Castle in the deep north of Equestria, with all its finery and luxuries. She missed him a lot, his smile, the booming laugh, and even his gothic stories, if not his scratchy beard.
Nocturne sighed, she missed The Old Country.
Perhaps through the doctor she might make her way back there, to a place between the Griffon mountains and untouched by the effects of war, famine and disease. She hoped it was still the same as it had been before the war, if not…
Best not to think about it.
Stepping out after a considerable period of time she shook herself off like a wolf, her fur going spiky and somewhat amusing. Wiping the rest off with a towel she skipped her way down the main laboratory and paused before the corpse.
It looked fresh.
Dr Scalpel emerged from a door leading to a cellar whistling whilst carting out several components consistent with their half machine pony they had created last night. He saw her and smiled, tipping more of the machinery on the table before the corpse.
“As you see, we had a midnight visitor, Grunge dealt with the intruder when he woke up from hibernation.”
“I see…”
“Anyway, I am beginning work on him too, a suitable match for the other, No? I have enough components to complete him too, we will open a small rift of magic to power them tonight.”
She nodded, somewhat concerned at his enthusiasm over this newly dead body, but shrugged it off, the doctor did seem to have an odd obsession over such things.
“I believe Honey has gone out to get us supplies” continued Scalpel as he began to wash and sterilize his equipment, “No doubt she will be back later, I sent Grunge to keep an eye on her from afar, but given the quiet nature of this town I doubt it will come too much.”
Nocturnes stomach rumbled and she gave him an embarrassed look “I hope she comes back soon, I could do with some breakfast.”
“Well, I hope that won’t inhibit your help with this one, with what you learned from last one we may well be able to complete this in a vastly reduced period of time.”
“Excellent Herr Doctor.”
Fine by me! I think that'd be a pretty interesting dynamic.
Also what name does Astral know him by, Tempest, or by his given name?
Just for clarification, Tempest was the name he took during his duties in Moon and Star, after his real name was classified.
Just for clarification, Tempest was the name he took during his duties in Moon and Star, after his real name was classified.
grimdarkenigma said
And posted. Oh and Eldritch is it cool if I have Astral bring the horn to Silver. I got a business proposal for him.
Eh, I guess that be cool, mind you, depending what it is Scalpel may or may not hold up his end of the bargain, he is treacherous like that. Outside of that I'd be happy to interact with you, I feel I am isolating myself, probably due to the fact that I dropped out of what I though wasn't going to be an important meeting of gods.
grimdarkenigma said
Technically I just drowned a town not blow it to bits. To quote someone. "Fire bad "
Indeed, frankly I am interested to see what might set Sweeper on a genocidal rampage, as I can easily see it occur with the Imperatrix and the Lord of Beginnings and Ends but not her.
See, this is the reason you have guys like Scalpel running about, half the time you intentionally blow crap up and the other half of the time you aren't even aware of it! :P
Can I just say I am really enjoying my time RP with you guys, I never expected this to get so far or even for me to get so involved in it, I haven't been this connected to an RP since 2010-11.
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