On the Significance of Scars, Part Two - RPLOG
Participants
Date
21/9/2016
Log
Trading one cage for another, it seemed. Galve thought about it for a moment... before informing Acetyl of his decision. "Alright. If you think that this is the best course of action, then I'm ok with whatever you have in mind."
The storm dragon grunted. "Well, for what it's worth, here's your other option. I can let you go, having no idea what those spells do. You might be able to find someone else to help you. Another Acolyte would be your best bet in terms of likelihood of being able to solve it." Acetyl left unsaid that, as unsavory a person as he himself might be, his fellow cultists were not necessarily Eagle Scouts themselves, figuring Galve could likely figure that out for himself. They were discussing a group called the Necromantic Acolytes, after all, not the Benevolent Order of Sun Worship and Happy Trees.
"Of course," he continued, taking another hit from his pipe, "they'll probably want something in return for their help. They might not. I can't speak for you. But counting on charity has never worked out well for me." That familiar cynical bitterness was back in his tone, but this time it seemed more clearly a genuine feeling of the man's own than some weird contamination from the necromantic aura of the dark book which hovered over him. As he smoked, Acetyl seemed not to become terribly intoxicated, although the drug was clearly affecting him more than it would have a normal agent. The storm dragon was visibly more relaxed and less agitated than when the conversation began, though not mentally dulled or muddled in the slightest. If anything, he seemed more awake, as if the drug worked like tea for Acetyl. Highly aromatic, smoky tea. Whatever Acetyl was smoking just then filled the room with a distinctive scent compounded of unique elements and some Galve might have been surprised to recognize as a harmonious blend of citrus, conifer, and - of all things - an aroma that was not quite chocolate, but closer to that than anything else. It was like some kind of strange incense.
"And that's assuming you'll find one of us at all. There aren't too many of us. As far as I know." He grunted again, apparently considering something unpleasant if the frown on his heavy muzzle was any indication. "Well. What it comes down to is, you'd be gambling."
Nodding quietly as he processed the information. "Well, then the best idea would be to stay with you then. I'd rather get this sorted out and done than run the risk of ending up on the wrong side of someone because of.... what happened..
Galve shrugs, reaching for his water again
Acetyl nodded. "Good. Best for both of us that way. Maybe even everyone. That stuff," Acetyl replied, gesturing with his pipe at Galve to indicate the half-healed scars on the sheep's back. "may mean nothing. Er, that is - it means *something*, but it may not be very relevant to us. The Book is full of stuff like..." Acetyl gestured vaguely with the pipe-holding hand. "All kinds of occult gibberish. Prophecies meant to happen in three thousand years. Dead mythologies and instructions for appeasing their forgotten gods. Stories about allegedly historical events that it claims happened so long ago, I don't even want to think about it. Point is, a lot of the material is fascinating, but very difficult to understand and what little we can piece together often seems of very little practical meaning or value for right now. But..." Here he paused for another hit, and his gaze grew serious. "Not all of it is like that. Some of it..." If he were still human, he would have paled at this point. As it was, the electricity-like flickering glow in his eyes dimmed for a moment and he licked at his front teeth in a doglike gesture of anxiety. "I can't tell you. It'd be even more irresponsible than what I've done to you already. But let's just say that some of it... I can't tell how much is true and how much is some madman's insane ramblings, transcribed hallucinations and delusions. But... Well."
His grin took on a leering, ironic edge, and he shrugged. "I don't think I need to tell you that the Book as a whole is real. Its power is on me now. You feel it. I smell it on you. See it on your face. So let's just say that I'm inclined to take even its more absurd propositions seriously." Acetyl tilted his head, looking at Galve from one eye and then the other, in a rather birdlike motion. "I can't lie. There is a part of me that feels like the stakes are too high to give you a choice in this. But," he wiggled the fingers of his free hand in an ambivalent gesture. "the reality is that I can't force you to cooperate without resorting to some pretty fucked up tactics that I, frankly, would rather not have to use. I didn't go to all that trouble and get my ass ripped open by a gator, saving your sanity, only to turn around and destroy it myself." The casual way in which Acetyl spoke of these things would have been a bit weird in and of itself, but the unnatural aura layered its own strangeness onto his words and tone, subtly twisting them to something ever-so-slightly sardonic beneath its businesslike surface.
Acetyl rainily rataplans, "So it's good I won't have to."
Blanching, Galve gulped audibly and nodded. "Y-yeah, I... I like my sanity where it is.... Whatever you want to do I'm prepared for it." He said, mind slowly spinning through the random possible outcomes.
Acetyl sets his pipe down on the battered coffee table. Stretching his arms above his head, the storm dragon's jaws gape in a yawn. Specialized teeth - for piercing skin, tearing meat, and, at the back, crushing bone - glint in the light for a moment before Acetyl closes his mouth, clicking his teeth. "For now, can't speak for you, but I'm hungry. Time to code breakfast. Might have something real among the edible salvage, but wouldn't count on finding anything too decent in there, tell the truth." Standing up, Acetyl stretched again, long tail wrapping around his waist like a fuzzy belt to keep it out of the way. His wings were not in evidence, apparently shifted away for now using some Nanite Adept tool or program. "I know some people are weird about eating nanofood, though, so if you want to take your chances in the salvage bin it's up to you."
Galve nodded, Acetyl's statement punctuated with an audible growl from Galve's stomach. "Uhh... yeah I think I'll second that feeling. Nanite food is all they serve at Zephyr anyway so I have no qualms about it. Anything is good, I'm not picky."
