Post by Liou on Nov 1, 2017 19:37:59 GMT -5
Celestial
You follow a small cub of a carnivorous mammal towards the very large entrance of a lair, which has been gouged right through a wall, which is also covered in deep claw marks. Wee kittens deserve pets, even when they are the kittens of ferocious, countryside-terrorising, fire-breathing mythological monsters.
Have we mentioned that the hole is large?
The kittymera darts back and forth hesitantly, intrigued by the treats, flattening its ears and producing tiny attempts at roars. It suddenly pauses in its galloping, coming to a halt right next to a paw. The foot of the paw is as tall as the kitten itself.
Much higher than the paw are two pairs of eyes, soon joined by a third one. You don't have much time to see them, though.
You enter the abandoned mall. Dust bunnies blow around in a welcoming dance. Nothing happened to you before, nothing at all. You have no Chimera Treats on your person. Everything about the entrance seems the same - no, the plastic skeleton has raised its hand, holding up two fingers.
Your shoes are still stained with paint. And you do have a Chimera Chew Toy.
Shinko
As soon as you have spoken, a scream tears through the shop. The elegant painted lady on the right vanishes from her canvas. A split second later, her twisted face fills the entire frame, painted fingers pushing against the edges.
A footprint appears in the puddle of paint, revealing the floor beneath. Another footprint slams in front, then three more closing the distance towards you, sending droplets of paint flying in all directions, until the canvas catches fire and goes up in smoke in a second. She's gone.
"I say," says the bust. "Truth triumphs. This is why eyeballs are useful. Here, you should take some more."
You've earned... a Pack of Googly Eyes. They're nice googly eyes, in different colours, some of them Animu Eyes. Yaaay? Stick 'em on stuff.
Gelquie
You enter the store to your left. Judging from what remains of the signs and the brand logos, and the way the shelves are set up, and the hangers everywhere, this is a clothing store.
There isn't much in the way of clothing, aside from a few moth-eaten garments in dull colours still hanging sadly here and there. They were probably on clearance. No, you're quite alone in there. It's just you.
And the mannequins.
You can see more than a dozen from where you are. Why does a shop need so many mannequins, anyway? Some of them are lying across the floor with their limbs in odd angles. Some are right in the middle of the way, standing and leaning between clothes racks.
A mannequin on your right turns its blank face towards you.
"Oh my gosh," it says, "will you please tell her that I'm wearing it better?" The mannequin jerks their face towards the nearest mannequin on your other side. They both seem to be wearing the same starry purple tunic - the only differences in their outfits are in how frayed the sleeves are and how faded and creased the fabric is.
"Excuuuse me," says the mannequin on your left, "even after all this time I'm still better-looking." They toss their head, which wobbles dangerously, and they lean further back in their would-be glamorous pose.
You found a nifty Mannequin Hand in a sequined orange glove, though. It doesn't look like anybody will be missing it.
You follow a small cub of a carnivorous mammal towards the very large entrance of a lair, which has been gouged right through a wall, which is also covered in deep claw marks. Wee kittens deserve pets, even when they are the kittens of ferocious, countryside-terrorising, fire-breathing mythological monsters.
Have we mentioned that the hole is large?
The kittymera darts back and forth hesitantly, intrigued by the treats, flattening its ears and producing tiny attempts at roars. It suddenly pauses in its galloping, coming to a halt right next to a paw. The foot of the paw is as tall as the kitten itself.
Much higher than the paw are two pairs of eyes, soon joined by a third one. You don't have much time to see them, though.
You enter the abandoned mall. Dust bunnies blow around in a welcoming dance. Nothing happened to you before, nothing at all. You have no Chimera Treats on your person. Everything about the entrance seems the same - no, the plastic skeleton has raised its hand, holding up two fingers.
Your shoes are still stained with paint. And you do have a Chimera Chew Toy.
Shinko
As soon as you have spoken, a scream tears through the shop. The elegant painted lady on the right vanishes from her canvas. A split second later, her twisted face fills the entire frame, painted fingers pushing against the edges.
A footprint appears in the puddle of paint, revealing the floor beneath. Another footprint slams in front, then three more closing the distance towards you, sending droplets of paint flying in all directions, until the canvas catches fire and goes up in smoke in a second. She's gone.
"I say," says the bust. "Truth triumphs. This is why eyeballs are useful. Here, you should take some more."
You've earned... a Pack of Googly Eyes. They're nice googly eyes, in different colours, some of them Animu Eyes. Yaaay? Stick 'em on stuff.
Gelquie
You enter the store to your left. Judging from what remains of the signs and the brand logos, and the way the shelves are set up, and the hangers everywhere, this is a clothing store.
There isn't much in the way of clothing, aside from a few moth-eaten garments in dull colours still hanging sadly here and there. They were probably on clearance. No, you're quite alone in there. It's just you.
And the mannequins.
You can see more than a dozen from where you are. Why does a shop need so many mannequins, anyway? Some of them are lying across the floor with their limbs in odd angles. Some are right in the middle of the way, standing and leaning between clothes racks.
A mannequin on your right turns its blank face towards you.
"Oh my gosh," it says, "will you please tell her that I'm wearing it better?" The mannequin jerks their face towards the nearest mannequin on your other side. They both seem to be wearing the same starry purple tunic - the only differences in their outfits are in how frayed the sleeves are and how faded and creased the fabric is.
"Excuuuse me," says the mannequin on your left, "even after all this time I'm still better-looking." They toss their head, which wobbles dangerously, and they lean further back in their would-be glamorous pose.
You found a nifty Mannequin Hand in a sequined orange glove, though. It doesn't look like anybody will be missing it.
