The Dangers of TransLocate #4

[-Lacie-]

(And now for the exciting conclusion you've all been waiting for! With no further adieu...)

Several days had passed since the unfortunate incident in Gloom Peaks, and things were getting back to ~normal~.

Cascara had taken all her Azure pillowcases to Lambent’s Sanctuary while no one was around, and along with some strong detergent that Wonky made for her, had the chance to scrub them all clean. The dozen or so “capes” were now hung neatly on a line she’d made from hair out of Sir Drake’s hairbrush. She was quite skilled at braiding and weaving, and she’d found the perfect spot in Totality to string the cape-line. The winds of Totality always gave the ~capes~ the sweetest scent, and the stiff breeze in the Valley dried them to a sharp crispness.

DaisyMay had retreated to her garden oasis. The others had already voted that she was not allowed to grow anything on the Mount (Heaven forbid something new and green would actually SPROUT up on that Mountain!). That didn’t stop Daisy though; her love of gardening & superior intellect had outsmarted them all. Besides, where did they think all that food came from anyway? Daisy’s Secret Garden was, of course, in the Middle Basin, where few travelled. The ground was fertile & waters were clean. She grew the most delicious fruits and vegetables, and the Flowers of Amber towered over her head, the blossoms large enough to nearly cover an average avatar! She also kept her secret greenhouse behind the House. The grapevines had climbed up the outer wall and the strawberries were in nearly ready to harvest.

(Ok, claiming artistic license again… forgive!)

Peridot was content with guard duty. It was her favorite activity although she outwardly grumbled about doing it. This was the only way to be allowed her favorite pastime. The others considered this punishment, but she secretly thrilled each time it was handed out. Peridot was doing her favorite marching step (no one ever saw this, as Peridot was actually a terrifically skilled dancer), swinging her blade in one hand, slamming the fist of her other hand into her shoulder. Her melodic movements suggested a favorite tune in her head.

This was quickly halted when she tripped over a rather large package someone left outside the front doorstep. After several rather unseemly obscene phrases, she looked down only to realize the package was addressed to her. “Argh, this is Sir Drake’s hair care products. I forgot I ordered so much this time!” She scooped up the package, grunting at its weight and went inside to add the products to her bag.

The gentlemen of the troupe had also been quite busy in their own unique pursuits. They all had gotten quite a scolding from the incident in Gloom a week earlier, and had decided to seek more pleasurable surroundings for a while. This meant only one place would do… the Tavern! Jean LeFitte barely got the suggestion verbalized when Maverick and Shank started gathering up the things they would need for a few days of entertainment. Maverick was in charge of sustenance (of course), gathering up all the bread, meat and cheese he could find. He also found several stashes of fresh fruit and vegetables; he had no idea where they came from, but tasted alright, so in the basket they went! To be honest, there was enough food in that basket for the 3 of them for two weeks … but Maverick ~was~ one of them!

Sir Slicer caught the group packing for a trip and asked to join them. Welcome, of course, they all knew this was just an excuse to get out of the House. They all knew Sir Slicer’s true destination. It was obvious from the flyer sticking out of his back pocket. The three went along with the ruse, only because they knew how difficult it was to leave Sir Drake alone for any length of time.

“GRAND OPENING!” the flyer said in large, ornate lettering. The WellSpring was ~the~ new hotspot in the City. The first location was a terrific success, so the ever-clever newlyweds of Totality had decided to open a second location. Deep within the Glades of Harrow, Mineral Springs was the perfect location for the expansion. Sir Slicer had begun to get frustrated with the wretched odors, constant washing, soaking, powdering, and ridicule from his leaf-shaped feet. The WellSpring was his last resort. He had packed his disguise neatly in his pack and had chosen an out-of-the-way locale to make his transformation & visit the establishment. A good pedicure, long soaking in mineral water & a bit of callus scraping should put his feet back in shape! He looked down at the long toe-nails, “Maybe a trim might help too” he mumbled under his breath.

The gown Sir Slicer borrowed came out of an old storage box he found in their massive vaults & Peridot’s old wig would cover most of his face. He ~did~ have rather attractive legs, so that wouldn’t give him away. He didn’t see the need to shave all the hair off though. “They have a wax for that. Maybe I can get that done too?” He pondered as he looked over some cosmetics he found laying in a corner. He grabbed a lipstick, added it to his pack and closed it up.

LeFitte and Maverick were on a quest. They were bound and determined to make a ~man~ out of Shank. He was young and strong, no doubt, but knew little of the ways of the City. They were about to change all that. As Sir Slicer made his inconspicuous departure from the group, the three headed for the Tavern. The sounds were jolly and merry; the evening’s festivities were in full swing.

“Ahoy, Maties! I have arrived and the party may now commence!” LeFitte bellowed as he threw open the door of the Tavern. The men all grumbled, knowing the bar-maids were about to abandon their other paying customers shortly. Several of the bar-maids knew this was their chance to make more profits, going to the bar to fill their trays with mugs of dark ale and mead. Shank was hiding behind Maverick, who was already searching the room for his favorite bar-maid and a table to sit down at.

The BarKeeper, known only as Mill Kicksum was a burly fellow. He always had a filthy apron tied tightly under his obtuse belly; his beard was long and smelt of week-old ale; long, dingy hair looked like it desperately needed Peridot’s loving attention. Mill knew he needed to protect his bar-maidens, so had cleverly designed a system of keeping their true identities Unknown – fake name tags. All barmaids were required (upon contractual agreement of employment) to choose a name from the colors within the City.

“Berry! Night! Be quick ‘bout our first round! I gots t’get this boy into a man-suit afore the boss’man catches us in ‘ere!” hollered LeFitte, who had already downed the contents of his flask on the journey to the Tavern. “Teal, Blood! We be needin’ plates & stuff. Maverick here brought yummies from our coffers! BloodSausage for e’eryone!” Maverick’s face turned to a scowl; he HATED sharing his BloodSausage, but luckily had more than enough for them all. “Abyss! Sand! Get ye keisters o’er here! M’lap be needin’ ye tuffs!” With that, LeFitte slapped his thigh a few times; the two bar-maids quickly joined him.

Shank was considering how to quietly escape when a fair-haired bar-maid got closer to him. Her fake-name-tag said “Goldie”, which was well-suited to her long, lovely golden locks draped down to the small of her back. It took only moments before Shank was quite smitten with her. The trio settled in for a few days of merry-making in a fashion which can only be left to the imagination.

The House was finally quiet. Sir Drake considered himself alone, knowing Peridot was outside on guard duty. She wouldn’t ~dare~ disturb him; she was too smart and knew better. Sir Drake sat down with his grungy journal, licking his fingers as he turned to the page with the notes about TransLocate on it. He was in the room adjacent to Wonky’s “Lab”, and the walls were quite thin. He could hear Wonky inside the padded room, mumbling and tossing things about. “I guess it’s time I let him out and finish this, I suppose.” And with that, he ventured into Wonky’s Lab.

“You know I HATE this room, right? I have been in here for THREE days now and I want OUT!” The angry screams were clear and harsh through the door, and Sir Drake only had to look through the small window in the door to see the rage and utter discomfort of his leading scientist. “Alright, but if you Blast me again, I’ll put you back in here!” With that, the lock turned and Wonky burst from the room, letting out an exasperated moan and reaching for Sir Drake’s throat.

Sir Drake was tough though, and easily removed the sweaty hands from around his neck. Still huffing and puffing, Wonky decided Arts would be a more suitable response. With that idea in mind, Wonky began to cast every art he could think of upon Sir Drake in rapid succession. The first Art cast was MindBlank. One casting was enough to last quite a while. He quickly followed that up with a hefty dose of SoulShield. “There! Take that! This was followed by massive amounts of Vision. He finished by barraging Sir Drake with a few rapid doses of Deafen. Wonky had obviously put some thought into this series of Arts, and while it appeared to be done in anger, actually had definite purpose to the action.

Sir Drake was ready for Wonky’s irritation and aggression and had prepared himself with protective Arts. What Sir Drake wasn’t prepared for was what Wonky actually cast upon him. Sir Drake’s mind was now Blanked and the SoulShield prevented him from removing it. “Self-casting Abjure would great about now,” he mumbled, although no one was able to hear him speak. He tried to Locate Sir Slicer, but found him Mind-Blanked as well. Wonky folded his arms across his chest and waited for Sir Drake’s condition to solve the TransLocate problem.

After a few moments, Wonky began to tap his foot. Sir Drake was an intelligent man, but stubborn and hard-headed at times. Wonky began to cast TransLocate in front of Sir Drake, hoping to urge a response. It took only seconds for Sir Drake to see that Wonky was about to leave him this way? “Or wait a moment … what was Wonky trying to tell him?” The Deafen was still applied to him, so he couldn’t hear. His Mind was Blanked and his Soul Shielded. What could this all mean? Why was Wonky doing this?

Sir Drake looked curiously at Wonky. Wonky mouthed the word “E-X-P-E-R-I-M-E-N-T!” Sir Drake looked at Wonky casting and began to cast his own TransLocate. Sparks flew from Sir Drake’s fingertips, making Wonky pat his hands together. Wonky just loved to see Dreamers combust! Sir Drake looked at the options within his Art of TransLocate, blinked a few times with astonishment, and then looked wild-eyed at Wonky!

“Only one space. I have only one space that’s blank. I’ve got one shot at this.” Sir Drake was unaware if Wonky could hear him, and frankly didn’t care at that point. Sir Drake gathered his Insight and pondered quite carefully. He then closed his eyes and considered his most favorite place in the city. He completed casting the Art with a deep breath held tightly in his massive chest.

Wonky watched with twinkling Azure eyes as Sir Drake disappeared from sight. Still within the City but MindBlanked, Wonky knew that Sir Drake had successfully obtained a new location for TransLocate of his own choosing, and that yet another experiment from the Lab of Wonky™ was a complete success.

(I would like to personally thank all the members of the Order of the Light for having good senses of humor and for not shooting me while I told this tale. You all have been great sports in this, so thank you.)

~fin~

(Oh, so you think I’m done? Ohhhhhh, but there’s so many other GREAT stories to tell! Who will be the highlight of the next tale? Stay tuned… same Dream channel, same Dream time!)

~Lacie~