[ Angel Devil. ] [ chatcube, or action. ] [ if you're visiting the rose barn, look for the door with the creepy bat-and-angel-wing sigil on it. Knock first! Or get zapped. ]
It's not a bad idea. But it'll be troublesome if he collapses from energy drain while we're making an escape. If the Workshop reclaims him while he's in that state, then interrogates him...
[ the tightening of his tail around your wrist betrays his discomfort ]
Well. There's something else that we can try. To guarantee his loyalty.
[ the kitten grins, face showing none of his disgust. his tail remains tightly coiled. finally, he leans back, taking the tumbleweed's hand. the vines loosen, though the fur tail remains as is. he places the tumbleweed's hand on his left arm, on top of the red cuff. ]
Then you know what to do. If you're telling the truth, then this won't be a problem for you, right? If you quietly do as told, it never will be~
With loyalty to fur and wool I swear with my heart, howling, bleating As the Great Factory's humble tool With purpose will I do thy bidding
Whether words spoken, read, written or bled The contract will be fulfilled in full or red.
[ as he chants, the red cuff begins to glow. light forms around the tumbleweed's neck; the Pine Workshop's sigil appears in the air, a smoky hologram not unlike the ward above Rose barn.
Sheep Fiend bleats.
do you touch the sigil? do you simply watch? or something else? ]
[ the sigil starts to glow a brilliant white, encompassing the kitten and tumbleweed. binding them together. but it doesn't stop there. it expands and expands, flashing green then black then back to green, and as it touches your skin you feel your soul being tugged and you understand that you've been found.
a single green eye appears in your mind.
it's faint, but you hear the cackling, fading roar of a beast in the distance.
you can no longer see the kitten or tumbleweed. the light around them is still white, so dazzling that it hurts to look. it never used to. it never could.
but you'd never witnessed the flashbomb-bright, all consuming destruction of star going off in your mind until recently, had you? the echo of the supernova haunts you. you don't burn, but you remember when you did.
the kitten doesn't burn, but Blood Fiend remembers that he will.
Sheep Fiend's squeal of terror pierces the air. it's the last thing you hear before you pass out. ]
[ when you come to, you're standing in yet another maze, feet planted firmly on the ground, hand grasping the tumbleweed's shoulder.
howls and whispers permeate the fog, carrying with them a deep sense of dread. the sunflower coiled around your staff reveals some patches of ground, as well as the tumbleweed's newly-acquired black collar, but otherwise? it's almost impossible to tell what is up and what is down. ]
... Well. I gotta hand it to you, tumbleweed. When you said we'd need you for navigation, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. Trust the Workshop never to run out of ideas.
[ the kitten's laugh is humorless. if you shine the light to your left, you can make out his clawed hand on top of the tumbleweed's other shoulder. like the tumbleweed, he's no longer glowing. ]
[ you burn away as and under a star. and when everything clears away to a new vista... ah. you still burn.
Queen Brahne's illicitly-gained soul crackles with power in the hollow of your chest. You're burning yourself slowly (faster) down to a cinder, locked into a Trance your mortal terror of what's next won't allow to end.
Are you watching, Master? you tell the air, perhaps too loudly. The Mist rises from the roots of the tree as if to embrace even the stars. Everything on this planet floor willcould die to the howls of the miserable dead.
Outwardly, you murmur, distracted by your assurance somehow deep down this is your fault and seeing the aftermath writ large of what it means, your penance,]
Hah, that's nothing new. We'll just do what we always do.
[ compared to that relaxed kitten lounging on the couch mere hours ago, it's like talking to a different person. the tumbleweed, leading the way, is oddly silent.
you walk and walk, twisting and winding around corner after corner, filled with dread and disorientation and the subcutaneous desire to flee, but somehow, thanks to the tumbleweed's guidance, the Ace's blessing, or some divine mercy from another source, nothing ambushes you.
eventually, the maze parts. an object starts to loom in the mist. underneath the sunlight coiled around your staff, you can dimly make out... a cave? ]
"- it would be best for me to travel inside the pocket dimension on the way there to avoid an ambush -
If you see a large red spellcaster wolf, flee."
but there's no one there. there's no wolf. there's only you and your two companions. ]
Let's go.
[ as you approach the cave, mysteriously... the mist seems to part around it. you can see clearly, there are no whispers, no sign of beasts, and even if you let go of the tumbleweed you have their wits about you.
[ into the depths of the cave... which immediately brightens. not from natural light though, but from gold. mounds and mounds of bright, glittering gold. it litters the cave, every inch of the interior being covered in it. but most notably, some of the gold... is very distinctly humanoid in shape, all contorting with pained expressions.
a polite but ominous voice rings out. ]
So the red shepherd finally shows his face.
[ the voice comes from an tall, skeletal demon with flames flickering where its eyes should be. it stands in the middle of the cave, admiring the statues around it. ]
I see you've brought... one blessed by the Workshop, another cursed, and a sheep. What a marvelous selection.
[ surprise surprise it can sense Sheep Fiend.
as for the statues -- there are 30 in total. some seem melded to the ground and other gold, others are mounted proper like normal statues. they're all standing at least, and all appear to be anywhere from teenagers to elderly in build.
there's one that looks like it's reaching out, crying for help. ]
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no subject
It's not a bad idea. But it'll be troublesome if he collapses from energy drain while we're making an escape. If the Workshop reclaims him while he's in that state, then interrogates him...
[ the tightening of his tail around your wrist betrays his discomfort ]
Well. There's something else that we can try. To guarantee his loyalty.
no subject
Mn?
1/?
he strokes the tumbleweed's chin. ]
Judging by everything so far... you haven't used that yet, have you? Your binding.
2/?
[ the remaining color drains from his face. ]
N-no, Sir Ace...
3/4
Then you know what to do. If you're telling the truth, then this won't be a problem for you, right? If you quietly do as told, it never will be~
4/4
I-it never will be. Sir.
[ gulps, then begins chanting ]
With loyalty to fur and wool
I swear with my heart, howling, bleating
As the Great Factory's humble tool
With purpose will I do thy bidding
Whether words spoken, read, written or bled
The contract will be fulfilled in full or red.
[ as he chants, the red cuff begins to glow. light forms around the tumbleweed's neck; the Pine Workshop's sigil appears in the air, a smoky hologram not unlike the ward above Rose barn.
Sheep Fiend bleats.
do you touch the sigil? do you simply watch? or something else? ]
1/2
2/2
1/2
a single green eye appears in your mind.
it's faint, but you hear the cackling, fading roar of a beast in the distance.
Y̵̩̙̰̹͘O̸͕͊̒U̸̼͊͒̄͘ ̵͖̔̈́C̵͈̊A̸̡͈͉͗̔̊͘͜N̷̖̖̈́͛͊̀'̶̰̥̄T̵̢̺͇̎̈ ̷̱͓͕̫͑̄̂̄Ĥ̸̺̈͆̐Î̵̧̢̲̉͐͘D̴̬̓͊Ẹ̵̪̒ ̸̣̦̲̩͒͋̉̇F̵̝̗̰̓͌̇̃ͅǑ̶͍̥̯̤̓̍͝R̸̨͓͌̀̃͋E̸̱̎̀͘V̴͉͝Ę̶͍̦̀̈R̷̹͖̽.
you can no longer see the kitten or tumbleweed. the light around them is still white, so dazzling that it hurts to look. it never used to. it never could.
but you'd never witnessed the flashbomb-bright, all consuming destruction of star going off in your mind until recently, had you? the echo of the supernova haunts you. you don't burn, but you remember when you did.
the kitten doesn't burn, but Blood Fiend remembers that he will.
Sheep Fiend's squeal of terror pierces the air. it's the last thing you hear before you pass out. ]
2/2
howls and whispers permeate the fog, carrying with them a deep sense of dread. the sunflower coiled around your staff reveals some patches of ground, as well as the tumbleweed's newly-acquired black collar, but otherwise? it's almost impossible to tell what is up and what is down. ]
... Well. I gotta hand it to you, tumbleweed. When you said we'd need you for navigation, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. Trust the Workshop never to run out of ideas.
[ the kitten's laugh is humorless. if you shine the light to your left, you can make out his clawed hand on top of the tumbleweed's other shoulder. like the tumbleweed, he's no longer glowing. ]
Good thing I put Sheep Fiend in the lighthouse.
no subject
Queen Brahne's illicitly-gained soul crackles with power in the hollow of your chest. You're burning yourself slowly (faster) down to a cinder, locked into a Trance your mortal terror of what's next won't allow to end.
Are you watching, Master? you tell the air, perhaps too loudly. The Mist rises from the roots of the tree as if to embrace even the stars. Everything on this
planetfloorwillcould die to the howls of the miserable dead.Outwardly, you murmur, distracted by your assurance somehow deep down this is your fault and seeing the aftermath writ large of what it means, your penance,]
Good thing.
no subject
[ the kitten's frustration through the fog like a knife. it's only the presence of the tumbleweed that keeps him from outright hissing. ]
Now's not the time to be daydreaming.
no subject
[ he's keeping up. but his voice is still airy. ]
They might try to kill us, if they get too envious of our beating hearts.
no subject
[ compared to that relaxed kitten lounging on the couch mere hours ago, it's like talking to a different person. the tumbleweed, leading the way, is oddly silent.
you walk and walk, twisting and winding around corner after corner, filled with dread and disorientation and the subcutaneous desire to flee, but somehow, thanks to the tumbleweed's guidance, the Ace's blessing, or some divine mercy from another source, nothing ambushes you.
eventually, the maze parts. an object starts to loom in the mist. underneath the sunlight coiled around your staff, you can dimly make out... a cave? ]
no subject
1/3
This had better not be a trap.
2/3
It can't be, Sir Ace. I literally can't betray you right now. Or ever.
no subject
[ you feel the kitten glance at you; you can't make out his face through this fog, unless you feel like blinding him with that sunflower.
last chance to turn back. ]
no subject
but you don't. ]
no subject
If you see a large red spellcaster wolf, flee."
but there's no one there. there's no wolf. there's only you and your two companions. ]
Let's go.
[ as you approach the cave, mysteriously... the mist seems to part around it. you can see clearly, there are no whispers, no sign of beasts, and even if you let go of the tumbleweed you have their wits about you.
there's a faint glow coming from inside.
proceed? ]
no subject
no subject
a polite but ominous voice rings out. ]
So the red shepherd finally shows his face.
[ the voice comes from an tall, skeletal demon with flames flickering where its eyes should be. it stands in the middle of the cave, admiring the statues around it. ]
I see you've brought... one blessed by the Workshop, another cursed, and a sheep. What a marvelous selection.
[ surprise surprise it can sense Sheep Fiend.
as for the statues -- there are 30 in total. some seem melded to the ground and other gold, others are mounted proper like normal statues. they're all standing at least, and all appear to be anywhere from teenagers to elderly in build.
there's one that looks like it's reaching out, crying for help. ]