"You're darn right it's cool." It speaks in a distorted version of Home's own voice. "Robot doppelgangers are hard to build, and even harder to program emotions into. Basically, I'm here to suffer with you. Think of me as a spy pretending to be you, but badly."
"That's chill I suppose. This kid Gon keeps showing up wanting to be my friend but I don't think he knows what this place is. Bodies keep showing up cause of him like that one over there." He points to the one wrapped in white only to realize it's gone "Well that's a shame, I was going to ask if to play poker with me."
"Maybe it'll be back. I don't think it would be fair to play poker with you, since I'm a pretty unlucky guy. I mean, I was built to be your double. Now I gotta stay in this place. I was lucky enough to not know your backstory, though, which is nice. Any guilt I have pretty much came from my creator, so I think I'll be mostly chill here." It stretches.
Jeb is taking pictures of bugs, giggling to himself. He looks to be around 23 with fair skin, slightly pointed ears, and a fluffy brown hair. He is dressed in a tee shirt with a graphic on the front, a pair of jeans, and a few bracelets made of colorful beads.
Stroth is inside, doing samples of the crystal tree she made. She grumbles to herself, unhappy with the outcome of its growth.
Father Luciano is inside his temple, praying to Morgana for a good harvest from the orchard that circles the church.
Riotan walks up behind him, whistling the overture from Phantom of the Opera. The grass beneath his feet smolders faintly.
Thirteen watches her test the crystals with great interest.
Mauric wanders inside the temple, looking contemplative.
Jeb flinches, not even knowing who is behind him. He makes a move to cover his head, yelping.
She bangs her head on the table, grumbling.
Luciano looks up and smiles warmly "Hello my son."
“Calm down, fella.” He says. “I’m just hanging out.”
“Is all well?” Thirteen asks Stroth.
“Oh, uh. Hello, Father.” Mauric looks up, tucking his hands in his pockets.
Jeb skaddles to his feet, bouncing on his heels "Well don't sneak up on me at least.. I get startled easily." He huffs.
"Noooooooooo. The sample I made didn't have the right seed germinate." She groans.
He stands up and bows "How many I be of help?"
“Sorry. Whatcha doing?” He looks around at the flowers.
“And the right one would be?”
“I don’t need any help… just looking around, I guess.”
"Pictures and stuff, a hobby of mine actually." He chuckles "Bugs are really cool. They got these whole societies we never see and stuff." He explains passionately.
"The flowers should be purple... Not blue." She explains. She points to the blue flowers on it.
"Very well then, if you need me, I'll be right here." He sits down in a pew, pulling out his notebook.
“Oh yeah, bugs are delicious.” He nods in agreement. “And the collapse of society tastes even better.”
“So what would that lead you to need to do?”
Mauric examines the cathedral’s many features. “So this is a temple for Morgana?”
".. no?" He shakes his head.
"I don't know.. soil samples came back as fine, water was the same.. maybe it's the environment?"
He nods "In her name. Why do you ask?'
“Yeah, they’re not for everyone, I guess.” He nods again.
“Perhaps it’s crossbreeding with other specimens in the same area?” Thirteen proposes.
“Well, I’ve interacted with Her a lot is all. But I don’t really know much about Her…”
"No no, bugs are good. All of them. Some of them just have a bad reputation." He chuckles and picks up a caterpillar. He bounces on his heels and giggles happily as it crawls across his hand.
"Maybe.. this one is from a seed I stole from Mount Celestia so I don't know where more would be.." she says.
"Goddess of Life and Death, Gaelic Queen of Pigeons and Doves. Mother of the God Killers." He chuckles "She is many things.'
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"You're darn right it's cool." It speaks in a distorted version of Home's own voice. "Robot doppelgangers are hard to build, and even harder to program emotions into. Basically, I'm here to suffer with you. Think of me as a spy pretending to be you, but badly."
"That's chill I suppose. This kid Gon keeps showing up wanting to be my friend but I don't think he knows what this place is. Bodies keep showing up cause of him like that one over there." He points to the one wrapped in white only to realize it's gone "Well that's a shame, I was going to ask if to play poker with me."
"Maybe it'll be back. I don't think it would be fair to play poker with you, since I'm a pretty unlucky guy. I mean, I was built to be your double. Now I gotta stay in this place. I was lucky enough to not know your backstory, though, which is nice. Any guilt I have pretty much came from my creator, so I think I'll be mostly chill here." It stretches.
He nods "Thank God you don't have the same guilt as I do though. Pretty sure the space time continum would collapse on itself if we did." He said, shrugging "But if we're both unlucky maybe two wrongs will make a right." He laughs.
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
Jeb is taking pictures of bugs, giggling to himself. He looks to be around 23 with fair skin, slightly pointed ears, and a fluffy brown hair. He is dressed in a tee shirt with a graphic on the front, a pair of jeans, and a few bracelets made of colorful beads.
Stroth is inside, doing samples of the crystal tree she made. She grumbles to herself, unhappy with the outcome of its growth.
Father Luciano is inside his temple, praying to Morgana for a good harvest from the orchard that circles the church.
Riotan walks up behind him, whistling the overture from Phantom of the Opera. The grass beneath his feet smolders faintly.
Thirteen watches her test the crystals with great interest.
Mauric wanders inside the temple, looking contemplative.
Jeb flinches, not even knowing who is behind him. He makes a move to cover his head, yelping.
She bangs her head on the table, grumbling.
Luciano looks up and smiles warmly "Hello my son."
“Calm down, fella.” He says. “I’m just hanging out.”
“Is all well?” Thirteen asks Stroth.
“Oh, uh. Hello, Father.” Mauric looks up, tucking his hands in his pockets.
Jeb skaddles to his feet, bouncing on his heels "Well don't sneak up on me at least.. I get startled easily." He huffs.
"Noooooooooo. The sample I made didn't have the right seed germinate." She groans.
He stands up and bows "How many I be of help?"
“Sorry. Whatcha doing?” He looks around at the flowers.
“And the right one would be?”
“I don’t need any help… just looking around, I guess.”
"Pictures and stuff, a hobby of mine actually." He chuckles "Bugs are really cool. They got these whole societies we never see and stuff." He explains passionately.
"The flowers should be purple... Not blue." She explains. She points to the blue flowers on it.
"Very well then, if you need me, I'll be right here." He sits down in a pew, pulling out his notebook.
“Oh yeah, bugs are delicious.” He nods in agreement. “And the collapse of society tastes even better.”
“So what would that lead you to need to do?”
Mauric examines the cathedral’s many features. “So this is a temple for Morgana?”
".. no?" He shakes his head.
"I don't know.. soil samples came back as fine, water was the same.. maybe it's the environment?"
He nods "In her name. Why do you ask?'
“Yeah, they’re not for everyone, I guess.” He nods again.
“Perhaps it’s crossbreeding with other specimens in the same area?” Thirteen proposes.
“Well, I’ve interacted with Her a lot is all. But I don’t really know much about Her…”
"No no, bugs are good. All of them. Some of them just have a bad reputation." He chuckles and picks up a caterpillar. He bounces on his heels and giggles happily as it crawls across his hand.
"Maybe.. this one is from a seed I stole from Mount Celestia so I don't know where more would be.." she says.
"Goddess of Life and Death, Gaelic Queen of Pigeons and Doves. Mother of the God Killers." He chuckles "She is many things.'
“You’re easily pleased, aren’t you?”
“I mean, if it’s genetically similar enough to Material flora, it could still interbreed…”
“From pigeons to god killing? That’s… a jump…”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Jeb is taking pictures of bugs, giggling to himself. He looks to be around 23 with fair skin, slightly pointed ears, and a fluffy brown hair. He is dressed in a tee shirt with a graphic on the front, a pair of jeans, and a few bracelets made of colorful beads.
Stroth is inside, doing samples of the crystal tree she made. She grumbles to herself, unhappy with the outcome of its growth.
Father Luciano is inside his temple, praying to Morgana for a good harvest from the orchard that circles the church.
Riotan walks up behind him, whistling the overture from Phantom of the Opera. The grass beneath his feet smolders faintly.
Thirteen watches her test the crystals with great interest.
Mauric wanders inside the temple, looking contemplative.
Jeb flinches, not even knowing who is behind him. He makes a move to cover his head, yelping.
She bangs her head on the table, grumbling.
Luciano looks up and smiles warmly "Hello my son."
“Calm down, fella.” He says. “I’m just hanging out.”
“Is all well?” Thirteen asks Stroth.
“Oh, uh. Hello, Father.” Mauric looks up, tucking his hands in his pockets.
Jeb skaddles to his feet, bouncing on his heels "Well don't sneak up on me at least.. I get startled easily." He huffs.
"Noooooooooo. The sample I made didn't have the right seed germinate." She groans.
He stands up and bows "How many I be of help?"
“Sorry. Whatcha doing?” He looks around at the flowers.
“And the right one would be?”
“I don’t need any help… just looking around, I guess.”
"Pictures and stuff, a hobby of mine actually." He chuckles "Bugs are really cool. They got these whole societies we never see and stuff." He explains passionately.
"The flowers should be purple... Not blue." She explains. She points to the blue flowers on it.
"Very well then, if you need me, I'll be right here." He sits down in a pew, pulling out his notebook.
“Oh yeah, bugs are delicious.” He nods in agreement. “And the collapse of society tastes even better.”
“So what would that lead you to need to do?”
Mauric examines the cathedral’s many features. “So this is a temple for Morgana?”
".. no?" He shakes his head.
"I don't know.. soil samples came back as fine, water was the same.. maybe it's the environment?"
He nods "In her name. Why do you ask?'
“Yeah, they’re not for everyone, I guess.” He nods again.
“Perhaps it’s crossbreeding with other specimens in the same area?” Thirteen proposes.
“Well, I’ve interacted with Her a lot is all. But I don’t really know much about Her…”
"No no, bugs are good. All of them. Some of them just have a bad reputation." He chuckles and picks up a caterpillar. He bounces on his heels and giggles happily as it crawls across his hand.
"Maybe.. this one is from a seed I stole from Mount Celestia so I don't know where more would be.." she says.
"Goddess of Life and Death, Gaelic Queen of Pigeons and Doves. Mother of the God Killers." He chuckles "She is many things.'
“You’re easily pleased, aren’t you?”
“I mean, if it’s genetically similar enough to Material flora, it could still interbreed…”
“From pigeons to god killing? That’s… a jump…”
"I just like bugs." He laughs and shrugs "Favorite bug is the azure butterfly, they are so unbelievably pretty."
"How so?" She tilts her head, genuinely listening.
"Unfortunately so." He laughs, understanding where Mauric is jumped.
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
"What is a radio?" He asks yet another question, seeming not to understand a thing she is talking about.
"Maybe it'll be back. I don't think it would be fair to play poker with you, since I'm a pretty unlucky guy. I mean, I was built to be your double. Now I gotta stay in this place. I was lucky enough to not know your backstory, though, which is nice. Any guilt I have pretty much came from my creator, so I think I'll be mostly chill here." It stretches.
He nods "Thank God you don't have the same guilt as I do though. Pretty sure the space time continum would collapse on itself if we did." He said, shrugging "But if we're both unlucky maybe two wrongs will make a right." He laughs.
"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Original." It squats down on the floor, its fire-filled metal body somehow not burning anything or spreading ashes anywhere. "So, you ever sleep?"
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
"What is a radio?" He asks yet another question, seeming not to understand a thing she is talking about.
"It's a device that can play sounds- often music and speech- even though the source of said sounds is a great distance away. In my case, we use it to give people warnings about when something bad is about to happen- and also music."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Maybe it'll be back. I don't think it would be fair to play poker with you, since I'm a pretty unlucky guy. I mean, I was built to be your double. Now I gotta stay in this place. I was lucky enough to not know your backstory, though, which is nice. Any guilt I have pretty much came from my creator, so I think I'll be mostly chill here." It stretches.
He nods "Thank God you don't have the same guilt as I do though. Pretty sure the space time continum would collapse on itself if we did." He said, shrugging "But if we're both unlucky maybe two wrongs will make a right." He laughs.
"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Original." It squats down on the floor, its fire-filled metal body somehow not burning anything or spreading ashes anywhere. "So, you ever sleep?"
"Can't. Constantly feel tired but getting actual REM is impossible. It's either my brain doesn't shut off or the house doesn't let me." He shrugs again "What do you want me to call you? My name is Home, maybe like.. House or something along those lines?"
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
"What is a radio?" He asks yet another question, seeming not to understand a thing she is talking about.
"It's a device that can play sounds- often music and speech- even though the source of said sounds is a great distance away. In my case, we use it to give people warnings about when something bad is about to happen- and also music."
"Music.. like drums?" It asked curiously "The beating heart of drums and the screeching melody of the spinal cord?"
“Well, seeing as how plenty of plants in the Material Plane can originate from Outer Planes to begin with, they might have bred over thousands of years and can now be genetically similar enough to continue breeding and producing plants that aren’t satisfactory to you, since they aren’t self-pollinating.”
“What’s her connection to this place?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Original." It squats down on the floor, its fire-filled metal body somehow not burning anything or spreading ashes anywhere. "So, you ever sleep?"
"Can't. Constantly feel tired but getting actual REM is impossible. It's either my brain doesn't shut off or the house doesn't let me." He shrugs again "What do you want me to call you? My name is Home, maybe like.. House or something along those lines?"
"Home is already a confusing enough name given that this place has its own consciousness. House fits pretty well, but it would create a lot of confusion. How about Tyrone? That sounds like a cool name." The expressionless machine makes a sort of clucking laugh.
“Well, seeing as how plenty of plants in the Material Plane can originate from Outer Planes to begin with, they might have bred over thousands of years and can now be genetically similar enough to continue breeding and producing plants that aren’t satisfactory to you, since they aren’t self-pollinating.”
“What’s her connection to this place?”
"Huh? How so?" He asks, raising a brow.
She chuckles "That might work but it's a theory at best."
"Natural World.. Life and Death." He nods, gesturing to her statue
"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Original." It squats down on the floor, its fire-filled metal body somehow not burning anything or spreading ashes anywhere. "So, you ever sleep?"
"Can't. Constantly feel tired but getting actual REM is impossible. It's either my brain doesn't shut off or the house doesn't let me." He shrugs again "What do you want me to call you? My name is Home, maybe like.. House or something along those lines?"
"Home is already a confusing enough name given that this place has its own consciousness. House fits pretty well, but it would create a lot of confusion. How about Tyrone? That sounds like a cool name." The expressionless machine makes a sort of clucking laugh.
*Oh yeah, if you want an idea of what Home looks like. Look up Doctor Nowhere, he has pictures of himself and that's what I imagined he looked like.*
"Darn man, leaving me out on the cool train." He laughs "So what are you spying for? Like what Intel is possibly interesting enough here?"
"Of sorts. I didn't want to use my old name on air."
"On air? We are not in the air?.."
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
"What is a radio?" He asks yet another question, seeming not to understand a thing she is talking about.
"It's a device that can play sounds- often music and speech- even though the source of said sounds is a great distance away. In my case, we use it to give people warnings about when something bad is about to happen- and also music."
"Music.. like drums?" It asked curiously "The beating heart of drums and the screeching melody of the spinal cord?"
"...Yeah, kinda like that. A lot of people like the music segments of our broadcast."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
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"On air? We are not in the air?.."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*I'm also doing well. Not fantastic, but certainly not bad.*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Maybe it'll be back. I don't think it would be fair to play poker with you, since I'm a pretty unlucky guy. I mean, I was built to be your double. Now I gotta stay in this place. I was lucky enough to not know your backstory, though, which is nice. Any guilt I have pretty much came from my creator, so I think I'll be mostly chill here." It stretches.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"No no, bugs are good. All of them. Some of them just have a bad reputation." He chuckles and picks up a caterpillar. He bounces on his heels and giggles happily as it crawls across his hand.
"Maybe.. this one is from a seed I stole from Mount Celestia so I don't know where more would be.." she says.
"Goddess of Life and Death, Gaelic Queen of Pigeons and Doves. Mother of the God Killers." He chuckles "She is many things.'
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Oh, not like that. It's slang for when someone's live on a broadcast. I cohost a radio channel, and I didn't want to use my 'real' name when thousands of people were listening."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He nods "Thank God you don't have the same guilt as I do though. Pretty sure the space time continum would collapse on itself if we did." He said, shrugging "But if we're both unlucky maybe two wrongs will make a right." He laughs.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"People are listening? How? Are they in the trees?" He tilts his covered face to look up
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
“You’re easily pleased, aren’t you?”
“I mean, if it’s genetically similar enough to Material flora, it could still interbreed…”
“From pigeons to god killing? That’s… a jump…”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Not right now- at least, I don't think so. People listen to the radio all the time, though."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I just like bugs." He laughs and shrugs "Favorite bug is the azure butterfly, they are so unbelievably pretty."
"How so?" She tilts her head, genuinely listening.
"Unfortunately so." He laughs, understanding where Mauric is jumped.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"What is a radio?" He asks yet another question, seeming not to understand a thing she is talking about.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Original." It squats down on the floor, its fire-filled metal body somehow not burning anything or spreading ashes anywhere. "So, you ever sleep?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"It's a device that can play sounds- often music and speech- even though the source of said sounds is a great distance away. In my case, we use it to give people warnings about when something bad is about to happen- and also music."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Can't. Constantly feel tired but getting actual REM is impossible. It's either my brain doesn't shut off or the house doesn't let me." He shrugs again "What do you want me to call you? My name is Home, maybe like.. House or something along those lines?"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Music.. like drums?" It asked curiously "The beating heart of drums and the screeching melody of the spinal cord?"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*cut*
“Guess you can relate to it, huh?”
“Well, seeing as how plenty of plants in the Material Plane can originate from Outer Planes to begin with, they might have bred over thousands of years and can now be genetically similar enough to continue breeding and producing plants that aren’t satisfactory to you, since they aren’t self-pollinating.”
“What’s her connection to this place?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Home is already a confusing enough name given that this place has its own consciousness. House fits pretty well, but it would create a lot of confusion. How about Tyrone? That sounds like a cool name." The expressionless machine makes a sort of clucking laugh.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"Huh? How so?" He asks, raising a brow.
She chuckles "That might work but it's a theory at best."
"Natural World.. Life and Death." He nods, gesturing to her statue
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Oh yeah, if you want an idea of what Home looks like. Look up Doctor Nowhere, he has pictures of himself and that's what I imagined he looked like.*
"Darn man, leaving me out on the cool train." He laughs "So what are you spying for? Like what Intel is possibly interesting enough here?"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"...Yeah, kinda like that. A lot of people like the music segments of our broadcast."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)