Hallucination check. Find a fork or a spoon or a clean shell from one of the seafood bits or something, set the pamphlet down on the table, place the test item on it, and then carefully lift by the edges without touching the test item.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2015/12/05(Sat)23:32 No. 687277 ID: 3bc92d
File 144938714813.png - (145.70KB , 800x600 , lotm48.png )

“Leth hiht wit Hetteral.”

“Okay! Sounds good. Seth is the funnest to hang out with, anyway.” Amiara leads me over to the table. “Hey, everybody!”

A few of the assorted messengers greet us with nods and smiles. Setheral turns to me, surprised. “Oh, Gertrude! I didn’t think you’d wake up this early. I’m so sorry about letting you pass out!”

“Ih okay. Ih wuh my bad, really.” I shrug. “Hey, Amiara, can you hold my food for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

“Huh? Oh, sure.” She takes the bowl from me, grinning slightly. “I might steal a crawdad or two, though.”

“Ih fine.” I take some shrimp and move off to the side, where I decide to conduct an experiment. I place the shrimp on the strange piece of paper, and then suspend it with my tentacles. The shrimp stays in the middle of the paper. It looks like it’s not just a hallucination, then. “Hey, Amiara! Look at thih!”

Amiara looks. “Whoa! How are you doing that? That’s awesome!”

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2015/12/05(Sat)23:34 No. 687278 ID: 3bc92d
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“Wha-! Hold on, everybody, I need to speak with Gertrude for a moment!” Setheral leaps up from her chair, blocking the view from the table, and pulls me aside, glancing back nervously. When we’re out of anyone’s earshot, she begins to speak, her buzzing voice sounding very shocked. “Gertrude, where did you get that?”

“What, thih?” I hold up the piece of paper.

“Yes, that!”

“I tink Word gave it tuh me.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Setheral sighs.

“Did I do humting wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, I forgot, you haven’t chosen an official tutor yet, you wouldn’t know… No, you haven’t done anything wrong, not really, but…” She pauses. “Most Messengers don’t get their Covenant for weeks. I didn’t get mine for a month. To be given a Covenant on the first day is… well, it’s extremely remarkable and rare. It usually signifies a very strong potential for Speech.”

“But in’t taht good?”

“It would be. It should be.” Setheral hesitates again. “But… the last Messenger to be given a Covenant on their first day was Prodigal.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah. People are already nervous about teaching any new Messengers at all, since him, but if they hear about this? I don’t know what they’ll do. They’ll avoid you, at the very least, and I don’t want you to have to muddle through your first days as a pariah.”

“Tank you for tinking of me.” I smile. “Um, hey… what duh a Covenant do?”

“Well, it’s a direct bond between you and Word. It’s how Speakers make deals with the other Forces, by asking Word to contact them.” Her voice suddenly gets a bit stern. “You only get one, so take very good care of it. Don’t lose it, don’t use it for kindling, and please don’t use it as a platform for shellfish.”

I nod. “My bad.”

“It’s okay.” Her tone softens. “By the way, I recommend you find a full-time tutor as soon as possible. It’ll be next to impossible to find somebody once we get to Kakath, since everyone will be milling around the city. Just ask somebody you trust to be your mentor. Thryke might be a good choice if you want to learn more about Word, since he’s the best Speaker around since Prodigal left. Lydiri is friendly and knowledgable, though that lazyhorns tends to get distracted by the slightest busywork…” She shrugs. “I don’t know. You have to find the teacher who’s right for you. Do you have any ideas?”

Well unless we're going to summon a tutor of our own creation using the Word, let's go with Thryke.

what about you? I mean since we're both swarms you'd have the best advice when it comes to questions about my new body, plus you seem to have a good idea about how word works?

First choice is Setheral second choice Lydiri.

>Covenant
Oh, so everyone gets one eventually? Okay, good, I was worried Word appeared to us at all. This is still within normal parameters, even if we're pushing the margins.

(I guess Amiara doesn't have hers yet, hence why she can't see it).

>but if they hear about this? I don’t know what they’ll do. They’ll avoid you, at the very least, and I don’t want you to have to muddle through your first days as a pariah.
Could I, uh, just not tell them yet? I mean, I've got enough things to adjust to and learn already, it's not like I have to start Speaking immediately.

>Just ask somebody you trust to be your mentor.
Setheral, will you be my mentor?

If she asks why her: you see a lot more... mentor-y than the other people I've been talking too!

Requisition some sort of container for your covenant. Minimize exposure to the elements and concomitant cumulative deterioration. The box needs to be sturdy, waterproof, convenient in an emergency but unlikely to fall open by accident. Maybe two iron plates, interlocking teeth at the edges, sealed with wax?

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/13(Wed)02:31 No. 693436 ID: 251089
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“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Heheral, will you be my mentor?”

“What?!” Setheral seems surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah! You’re tuh moht mentor-y perhun I’ve met!”

“But I’m… I mean, I’m bugs. You know I’m bugs, right? Because I am bugs.”

“Uh-huh, it ih perfect! You’re juh like me! You can teah me how to work my new body, and you know a lot about Word.”

“I - I suppose.” Setheral hesitates. “No one’s ever asked me before. My body usually scares off the newbies.”

“Do you not want to be my mentor?”

“I do! I do. It’s just a shock. Yes, Gertrude, I would love to be your official tutor. Wow. I’m a tutor. Alright!”

“Yay!” I smile. “Oh, tutor, can you get me a container for my Covenant? Tuh heavier, tuh better.”

“Sure! Lydiri should have a couple on hand, he’s one of the better blacksmiths - hey, Lazyhorns!” Setheral waves Lydiri over.

“What is it, Seth? Oh, hello, Gertrude! How are you doing?”

“Good!” I give him a smile and a tentacle-thumbs-up.

“I’ll say.” Setheral’s voice gets slightly more quiet, and her indistinct buzzing increases, making her words a little harder for more distant listeners to make out. “She got her Covenant, Lydiri.”

“What? Really?” Lydiri’s single, large eye looks me over with anxiety. “Did anyone else see?”

“I’m not sure. I pulled her aside as soon as I noticed. She needs a cover, though.”

“I’ve only got one left. Ziddicos stole the rest during one of his tantrums. I’m still trying to find out where he hid them away.” Lydiri pauses, considering something. “I think I can let you use that last one, though.”

“Tank you.”

“Hey, in exchange, can you do a small favor for me?”

“Lydiri…!” Setheral sounds irritated.

“Relax, Seth, it’s nothing major.”

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t. Lazyhorns.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Lydiri turns to look back at me. “Okay, so, Gertrude! Loric - another Messenger - got sick, and we’re understaffed as a result. Do you think you could help me out by being one of our front-door representatives? It’s an important job, involving incredibly -”

“It’s secretary duty, basically.” Setheral interrupts. “You greet people who want to hire Messengers for whatever reasons, you write down customer’s requests, you do your best to answer any questions they might have, and you spend a lot of time sitting around in front of the wagons.”

“Well, yeah… it’s not the most glamorous job.” Lydiri seems a bit dejected. “It is important, though. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine, but I think it might be a good experience for you. Learning how to smoothly interact with strangers is an integral part of being a Messenger. So, what do you say? Feel up to it?”

Sure thing, you'd better practice your handwriting first though. At least ink won't be a problem.

>>693436
Well if you think I'd be good for the job I think it would be a good way to start helping out around here.

Um. I should check if I'm still able to write things down, first. I haven't tested how well I can tentacle-weild a pen.

But no, I don't mind answering questions for people, so long as my lisp isn't a problem.

Um. Maybe I should get a quick primer on the answers to common questions? And on the things we can and can't help with? Or won't? I don't want to misrepresent us.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)07:50 No. 694057 ID: 251089
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“Yeah, hur ting!”

“What? Are you in pain?”

“No, no… I meant - oh, forget it. No, I don’t mind helping out, it would be a good way for me to begin contributing around here, but won’t my lihhh - my lihp - my talking problem get in tuh way? I don’t even know if I can hold a pen, like I am now.”

“Not to worry!” Lydiri smiles(?) brightly. “Your speech impediment is hardly noticeable at this point. You’re honestly making remarkable progress! I’m sure that you’ll overcome it, given enough time. As for writing, let’s see… ah, I’ve got an idea. Amiara!” Lydiri turns, calling out to her.

“Mmf?” Amiara wolfs down her bite of meatball, then looks over, surprised. “What’s up?”

“Gertrude here has just volunteered to work as a front-door representative!”

“No way!” Amiara grins. “Does that mean that I actually get to have a different job? Finally!”

“Um… well, about that…” Lydiri gestures at me. “Gertrude’s still adjusting to her new body, and she could use some help with a few things, like re-learning how to write. I was hoping you could teach her while on the job, and write down the things that she can’t.”

“Seriously?” Amiara grumbles. “I’ve been the door-girl about a dozen times, by now.”

“Just once more, I promise.” Lydiri sounds apologetic. “Please?”

“Ugh. Fine.” Irritated, Amiara points at Lydiri with her fork, half of a meatball still dangling precariously from the utensil’s prongs. ”But I’m doing it for Gertrude, not you, got it?”

“Got it.” Lydiri nods.

“Hey, um…” I tap Lydiri on the shoulder. “I could do wih a primer on what to tell people.”

“Ooh, good idea!” Lydiri gets excited. “But I should give you an introduction to Kakath, first. I was already planning to do it - there isn’t really much of an audience for it, yet, but I can probably start a little early. Amiara, Gertrude, come on, I’ve got a whole display, with pictures - oh, Setheral, you should come see, it’ll be really interesting!”

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)07:51 No. 694058 ID: 251089
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“Ha. I think I’ll pass.” Setheral waves Lydiri and Amiara away, but she gently puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me aside. “Gertrude, as your tutor - wow, that’s weird to say - as your tutor, I’m formally ordering you to go back to bed, after Lydiri finishes up with his little show.”

“Why?” I frown. “I don’t feel tired.”

“Your body is less than a day old, dear. No offense, but you probably don’t completely know what ‘tired’ feels like, yet.” Setheral puffs herself up slightly. “Come on, I’m being official, so please listen to me. Finish your meal and head back up to Amiara’s room, okay? Don’t push yourself. You’ve had a big day, already, and you’ve done more in a few hours than most Messengers do in their first week. You’re going to spend the rest of the trip to Kakath resting in bed.”

“What? But-“

“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer, so don’t even start. You’ve already lost consciousness once, and I refuse to let you strain yourself. I’m your tutor, now, so you’re my responsibility.” She lightly pats my head in a gentle, comforting way. “Trust me. You’ll probably fall right asleep as soon as you lay down. I’ll have an extra bed moved up there, so you don’t have to worry about Ami, and Tiraman will deliver your meals.”

“I…” I hesitantly nod. “Okay.”

“Good. Thank you.” She sounds relieved. “Well, better run along, then, or Lydiri will start without you.”

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)08:00 No. 694061 ID: 251089
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This post is mostly for worldbuilding purposes. Feel free to skip it if you’d prefer to continue reading Gertrude’s adventures.

Lydiri’s introduction to Kakath is very comprehensive, if a little longwinded and dramatic in places. He explains that the city of Kakath is a rich city of merchants with a long and storied history. Due to both the spiritual and practical significance of its location, situated on a large hill between two rivers - Raliket and Jiraket, known as the Twin Whispers - many, many wars were fought over the city. It went by dozens of different names through the generations, as various new rulers claimed and lost dominion over it.

A few hundred years ago, the city was captured and renamed for the last time, so far, and the conquerors broke the cycle of conflict by building gigantic walls and turning the city into a gigantic market-fortress. According to Lydiri, the Kakath of today is run almost completely by barter and currency. It seems like absolutely everything is for sale: Kakath’s current governing families are descended from a group of extremely wealthy foreign merchants who purchased the city from its previous rulers.

Having summarized the city’s history, Lydiri moves on to discussing Kakath's society. The thing that most travelers first notice, he explains, is that homosexual relationships appear to be near-universal. (Amiara gets very interested at this point.) Sex for the purpose of reproduction is extremely sacred and ritualized in Kathi culture, to the point where even publicly showing romantic feelings towards someone of the opposite gender is a serious taboo.

People in Kakath are expected to have at least two partners - one reproductive partner of the opposite gender, and any number of romantic partners of the same gender. Having multiple romantic partners is considered a symbol of status and fertility in Kakath, so the richest merchants tend to hire, buy, or court entire personal harems, for appearance if nothing else.

Lydiri goes on to inform us that the species which makes up the majority of Kakath’s population is the indigenous humanoid people - the Kathi. They are lithe and slender, with skin resembling smooth chalk. They have black hair, black eyes, and blue blood. Despite the Kathi making up more than ninety-five percent of the city’s population, the ruling family of the city is almost entirely composed of humans.

The more controversial aspects of the city are based in its free market, which sells slave-servants, harmful narcotics, weaponry, poisons, personal information, and much more. Due to the negative image this presents to other, more reserved merchant communities, Kakath is sometimes called ’The City Where Dreams are Sold’. Despite this harsh moniker, life in the city is generally peaceful. Even the slave-servants are highly respected, mostly because almost everyone is forced to be a slave-servant at one point or another. It’s one of the simplest ways to pay off the debts that inevitably accrue due to the costs of living in the market-city.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)08:02 No. 694062 ID: 251089
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Over the next few days, I spend most of my time as a bored pile of octopuses lying around in bed. Setheral occasionally visits, teaching me more about how to focus on controlling my different body parts in unison, but I still don’t have the hang of it. She also does her best to help me speak more clearly, but, so far, my lisp stubbornly refuses to vanish.

Being roommates with Amiara is generally comfortable, and she’s nice enough to let me have some of her extra clothes. She doesn’t make any advances, but she does occasionally mention that she’s still interested in me. She snores in her sleep, sometimes, but it’s quiet enough that it doesn’t bother me too much, although that’s mostly because, in addition to now being an octopus collective, I’ve apparently also become a very heavy sleeper.

Other than that, Amiara spends most of her time engaged in what she calls her ‘being-a-biped exercises’, where she tastes different kinds of food and drink, sings, stares at paintings and figurines, juggles small objects, runs her fingers over various textured panels, and/or slowly walks around the room. I guess getting used to being a human must be just as tricky for her as adapting to being a bunch of octopuses is for me.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)08:04 No. 694064 ID: 251089
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The time passes quickly enough. Finally, early one morning, as I’m idly stretching my tentacles while still in my pajamas, someone knocks on my door.

“Come in!” I call out.

Setheral enters the room. “We’ve arrived at the city limits, dear.”

“Oh?” I jump to my feet-tentacles and stand, excited. “Where ih a window? I want to look!”

“Hold on.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think we should talk about something, first.”

“Huh? Okay.” I sit down on the edge of my bed.

“I know these past few days have been a blur, and you might not have had time to think about what it really means to be a Messenger.” Setheral sits next to me, her tone slightly sad. “This… it might not be pleasant to hear, but it’s better that I tell you, rather than have you be shocked by it later.”

“What ih it, tutor?” I’ve gotten used to calling her by her title, since I can’t pronounce ’Seth’.

“When our names and bodies were remade, in the eyes of the rest of the world, we stopped being ‘normal’ and became something else.” She sighs, buzzing quietly. “Do you understand what that means?”

I shrug.

“It means that people will be scared of you, Gertrude - of what you are, and what you look like. Children will cry and run away from you in the street. You will be called names, and insulted, and maybe even attacked.” Setheral goes quiet for a little while. “I know this from experience.”

I curl a few comforting hand-tentacles around her shoulder.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/01/15(Fri)08:06 No. 694066 ID: 251089
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“Ah. Thanks, dear, but I’m fine. Anyway, that’s why I wear this hood and cloak: to hide how I look. Others, like Lydiri, have enough courage to go out into the world and not be afraid of what people think, but it’s not cowardly to want to be safe.” With that, Setheral pulls out a folded pile of fabric. “I made this hooded robe for you, if you want it. It’s spider-silk - my own, of course, I hope that isn’t too gross - and it will keep your face and body hidden from view.”

“Oh, wow.” I take the garment, turning it over in my hands. “Tank you!”

“You’re very welcome.” She sounds a little happier. “It’s yours to keep. You really don’t have to wear it, though, if you don’t want to. I’ll be happy either way, and going without it might actually be the better choice in the long run; it could help you get used to interacting with people in your new form. Still, I wanted to make sure you had the option open to you. When you’ve decided what you’re going to do, Lydiri wants us to meet with him and the others in the wagon’s lobby. I’ll see you there.” Setheral gives me a small hug, stands, and then heads out into the hallway.

After she leaves, I look down at the robe. I was planning to wear one of the prettier dresses that Amiara had recently given me, but now I’m not sure.

Do I want to hide the way I look, or not?

Allow thine noodly appendages to swing freely.

One awesome mask and a few gloves ought to do the trick.

...Let's...Not hide. this place is accepting of the Messengers, and military power here is limited. Both make this a great 'training grounds' for getting used to the standard-issue humans.
Better to get the teething issues out of the way now rather than wait until say, we're forced to defend ourselves Prodigal style against large, angry armies.

>>694066
Octopi are cool and not scary. Plus this is a relatively friendly and peaceful city. Walk free!

Wear the robe. Setheral will like it, and you'll be able to keep your octopi together a little better. Wouldn't want someone trying to steal your hands!
You don't have to keep the hood up at all times, of course. And it's still not going to hide your feet. Embrace the spooky!

Go with the cloak, cloaks are cool.

Man, making something human sized with spiders is a lot of effort on her part!

>what wear
Compromise. Wear the cloak with the hood down. If it gets bad, you can start wearing it up. And it shows appreciation.

well she made it so I think it would be rude not to wear it, just keep the hood down unless it becomes to much of a pain to walk around without it.

>>694115
Sounds like a pretty good compromise.

>>694115
Yeah this sounds nice.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/03/30(Wed)06:54 No. 712407 ID: 3bc92d
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I decide to compromise. I wear the robe, but I keep the hood down. I’ll put it up if things get bad. Feeling like my outfit is a little plain, I also throw on a small mantle that Amiara gave to me a while back.

Once I finish dressing myself, I head downstairs. I quickly find Lydiri, and wave to get his attention. He seems very busy, directing all sorts of Messengers this way and that. It’s kind of impressive how much he's doing at once, even if it does mean that he's a bit distracted.

“Oh, hello, Gertrude - no, Zarian, don’t walk away, stay with me, I still need to make sure you have Tiraman’s list of groceries, and enough money to buy them - Gertrude, right, yes! So, you’re going to be sitting out front with Amiara and Rioke, okay?”

“Yeah, but, um, you never did give me tuh primer on what to tell people.”

“Rakazni, no, we need you on animal detail, don’t start anything else - Gertrude, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you right now. Ask Amiara or Rioke if you have any questions, they’ve done this before - oh, speaking of! Rioke, this is Gertrude, she’s going to be one of the front-door representatives, so say hello.”

Rioke, a very short, stocky man with one large eye, gives me a curt nod. “Hi.”

“Hello.” I politely mimic his nod.

“Great, you know each other, now, so get moving.” Lydiri waves us off towards the front door. “Amiara’s already setting up outside. She could use your help. Right, Zarian, so - are you taking this down? Listen to me, already. Six flasks of jakkarai nectar, five ice-sealed barrels of various shellfish…”

Rioke and I head to the front door. I feel a brief nausea as I cross the wagon’s threshold, and I stare back at the impossible vehicle. It looks maybe one one-hundredth of the size it should be, based on the scale of what’s inside. I don’t have much time to look at it, though, because Amiara quickly waves Rioke and me out into the street. The place the wagon is parked in appears to be a decently-sized paved cul-de-sac surrounded by tall buildings, with a large stone fire-pit in the center and a well off to the side. I would guess that it’s some sort of camping area for visiting caravans.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/03/30(Wed)07:03 No. 712417 ID: 3bc92d
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“Good morning, slowpokes!” Amiara laughs. “You just missed the sight of three boys alternatively laughing, kissing, and sharing their dessert. I think I’m in love with this city! Hey, try keep an eye on that balcony up there; they went inside a little while ago, but they might come back out again.”

“Don’t stare.” Rioke grunts. “It’s not polite.”

“Really?” Amiara frowns. “But they were so cute. Besides, isn’t it a compliment to be interested in someone else’s life?”


“Would you enjoy it if a stranger stared at you?”

“Of course! I would be flattered.”

“Well, not everyone appreciates such attention.” Rioke sighs. “Whatever. Come on, let’s get set up.”

We spend the next hour or so setting up signs, chairs, lanterns, tables, paper, and writing supplies. All the while, various Messengers wander through on their ways to various errands. By the time we’re done working, we’ve managed to make the once-desolate area seem warm and welcoming.

“What do we do now?” I ask, idly resting in a chair.

“It’s pretty simple, honestly.” Amiara yawns, sitting down in a chair next to me. “We wait. We’ve got criers out in the streets, so clients will start filtering in soon enough. All we have to do is be here to receive them.”

“Once they arrive, they’ll usually have questions. Amiara and I will handle those, since you’re new.” Rioke stretches, looking tired. “Then they’ll tell us whatever job they want us to do. If it’s simple and short, one of us will go and handle it while the other two stay here. If someone wants to hire the Messengers for a more complex task, we listen to their requests, write down the details, take one-third of our fee as an advance payment, and give them a receipt.”

“I can’t write yet.” I feel a bit useless. “New body.”

“That’s fine. You can start practicing now.” Amiara stands. “Hold on, I’ll try to find you some paper and -“


“Oh, wait, look there.” Rioke interrupts, gesturing at the small archway which serves as the de facto entrance to the area. “We’ve got a quick start today.”


Two young Kathi women are standing there, peeking at us. After a short, whispered conversation, they approach, one gently leading the other by the arm. Once they’re close enough to talk, the shorter girl speaks to us in a clear, loud voice. “You’re the Messengers, right? The super-courier people?” Despite the fact that she’s speaking in a language I don’t know, I can understand her perfectly. How strange.

“We are.” Amiara smiles. “How can we help you?”

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/03/30(Wed)07:04 No. 712418 ID: 3bc92d
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“This is a mistake, Kinis.” The taller girl mumbles anxiously. “We shouldn’t be here.”


“Don’t be silly. You’re the one who brought it up.” The shorter of the two - Kinis, I suppose - squeezes the other woman’s hand in an encouraging way. “Just ask them, Ji. It’s not a big deal.”


“But it’s embarrassing.” Ji nervously swallows air.


“The Messengers are completely confidential.” Rioke points out. “We won’t share any personal details without your permission.”

“See, baby?” Kinis smiles. “It’s fine.”

“I… okay. Okay.” After briefly looking around in a covert way, Ji takes a deep breath, and then starts speaking very quickly. “I want you to deliver a message! I need you to… to tell a man that I want to have his babies!” She blushes blue. “Oh, I said it! Kinis, I actually said it!”

“I knew you could!” Kinis embraces Ji, giving her a kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

Amiara grins.


Rioke coughs. “We’re going to need a bit more detail, miss.”


“Oh, right…” Ji thinks for a moment. “His name is Okran Tielsha. He lives only a few blocks from here, and I have his address, if you want it. You’ll recognize him, he’s very tall and strong and h-handsome… Sorry!” Ji shivers, as if she’s just said something obscene. “The message is: ‘Ji Yal-Makri humbly requests that you f-father her ch-children.’ End of message. Is that enough, or do you need more?”

“That should be enough, thank you.” Rioke gives the women an affirmative nod, then turns to me. “Gertrude, do you think you could handle this job? It shouldn’t be more than a quick run.”

Disturbing, but you ARE a Messenger. Take the job.

Just grab a riot shield in case Okran doesn't take it well.

Woomy. I mean yes.

yeah, I could handle that. Do you want me to just hand it directly to the guy or would you prefer that I be a little more discreet then that?

>>712418
Give a playful salute...or as close to one as you can manage!

>Gertrude, do you think you could handle this job? It shouldn’t be more than a quick run.
Does Gertrude know how to run yet?

Yes, you would be glad to deliver their message. Dose she know if Okran Tielsha would be found at home at this time of day?

(We don't know what day of the week it is here, or what time of day it is. If these are work hours, for instance, we might have to wait).

When we reach the address, and someone opens the door, say you have a message for Okran Tielsha (and then ask if you're speaking to him / ask to speak to him, as appropriate). You don't want to give the message to the wrong person, as this is pretty personal, and if their reactions are an indication, embarrassing.

Seems simple enough and even if the situation gets a little complicated I'm sure we can handle it.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/13(Sun)19:47 No. 758363 ID: a606da
File 147909523718.png - (180.74KB , 800x600 , lotm60.png )

>know how to run yet?

I can walk quickly. I don’t think I can go much faster than that, though, or else I’ll probably end up falling to pieces again.

“Yeah, I can handle dat.” I nod, turning to address Ji. “I would be glad to deliver your mehhage!”

“Th-thank you.” Ji stutters a bit. I think she’s startled by the way I look. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Do you know if Okran Tielha would be found at home at diheh time of day?”

“Yes, he’ll be there.”

“I can give you directions, if you’d like.” Kinis interjects. “It’s not far.”

“Tank you!” I give her a playful salute with my hand-octopus.

I listen closely to Kinis’s directions. When I’m sure I’ve got them memorized, I give everybody a friendly wave, then head off into the city.

I do my best to follow the directions Kinis gave me. They seem to cut through a lot of side-streets and alleys. I get plenty of strange looks from passersby, and I start to feel a little self-conscious.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/13(Sun)19:48 No. 758365 ID: a606da
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Before too long, I arrive at what I'm pretty sure is Okran's front door. I knock.

After a short while, a Kathi man answers the door. “Hello? How can I - gah!” As soon as he sees me, he recoils, shocked. “What are you?!”

A pile of octopus. Also, a Messenger. You're here to deliver a private message. Should you say it right here, or indoors?

>I get plenty of strange looks from passersby
Well that's what happens when you chose to look like exactly no one ever has before.

>After a short while, a Kathi man answers the door. “Hello? How can I - gah!” As soon as he sees me, he recoils, shocked. “What are you?!”
Be cheerful and upbeat.

"I'm a messenger! Sorry if my appearance startled you."

"I have a message for Okran Tielsha. Are you he?"

"Dude, who even SAYS that anymore? I mean, do you even know the species of your next-door neighbors?

I have a message for a Mister Okran Tielsha. Do I come in or nail this envelope to the door?"

Uh, who was that guy in the alley? Did he look interested in you?

Time to deliver the spiel!

This is your singing telegram, I hope it finds you well!
Ji Yal-Makri wants to have your kids because she thinks you're swell!
That's everything she had to say, she wasn't mincing words!
Courtesy of the Messengers, now we've delivered hers!

>>758445
Amusing as this is, it's probably best to stick to the original wording.

>>758365

Bright and cheerful might just take the edge off of that surprise.

"I'm different, but in a good way! Name's Gertrude. Pleased to meet you! I am looking for Okran Tielsha. I have something for them."

A message like this, perhaps it's best not to spill it out in the open.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/15(Tue)14:21 No. 758802 ID: a606da
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“A pile of octopuh. I’m different, but in a good way!” I smile brightly, trying to stay upbeat. “I’m a Mehhenger. Very ‘orry dat my appear’n ‘tartled you.”

“A… Messenger?” He blinks. “Oh. Yes, that makes sense. I’m sorry.”

“It ih okay!” I give him a cheery thumbs-up with one of my hand-tentacles. “Are you Okran Tielha?”

“Yes, I am. Why?”

“I have a Mehhage for you! Do you want me to come inhide?”

“Ah…” Okran glances down at the ends of my rubbery leg-tentacles. “I think I’d prefer that you stayed outside. Sorry.”

“It ih okay. I’ll tell you tuh mehhage here!” I nod, take a deep breath, then launch into Ji’s message. I briefly consider singing it, but I decide to stick to the original wording, as this does seem like kind of an important matter.

“…Ji wants to - ? With me?!” Okran blushes blue. He cranes his neck to peer outside, apparently worried that someone might have overheard. “I, er, I… thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

“Can you give her my reply?”

“If you’d like.”

“Just tell her, um…” He lowers his voice to the point where I can barely hear it. “T-tell her ‘yes’.”

“Got it! Dat all?”

“Yeah, thanks. Look, uh, I don’t know what rates you take, but…” Still blushing furiously, Okran reaches into his pocket and dumps a bunch of coins into my hand-octopuses. “Here! Keep the change!” With that, he bows politely, then speedily retreats into his home, closing the door before I can say anything else.

>who was that guy in the alley? Did he look interested in you?

I turn to search for the cloaked figure. It isn’t very hard to find them, seeing as they’re looming inches away from my face. They suddenly lean in and whisper, their voice hoarse and commanding. “You. You are a Messenger?”

>>758801
Shit shit shit that does not look good. Whoever that is, they have a Messenger amulet but it's all fucked up. Like it was snapped in half then tied together.

...though actually that's somewhat reassuring. Something bad happened but they still cling to their association with the Messengers.

Ask if they have a message for you to deliver.

>>758802
...Depends on who's asking.

...what's it look like?

>>758802
You're a pile of octopi and you're wearing the messenger emblem openly. There's no point in denying it or playing coy.

Also we're not equipped to flee or fight if this person is trouble in any way, and we're in the middle of a street in a city, in daylight. There's no reason not to talk.

>“You. You are a Messenger?”
I am. Can I help you?

"Yes. Do you need help with something?" Play it off nice and friendly.

My money's on a splinter cell messenger; Prodigal or some other mastermind has their own messenger guild that does work like the official Messengers, but for a political side.

And may or may not pose as Messengers while killing people.

As for the scratched amulet, if it's genuine there are two possibilities: the messenger defected from the official group, or he got it... 'somewhere'.

>>758802

Hm. Former Messenger? Maybe they tried to become one, picked a queer form, and then flunked out somehow. Maybe they lost their Compact. They could be here to pick trouble, or they could just be trying to talk to us.

Get back in his face (try to see what form and shape he has). Stretch your tentacles to make yourself larger so you loom a little over him. Smile. He has no idea what you can do, or how little control you have of your new powers, so do not act threatened (just yet).

"Yuhs I am. Intere'ting brooch there."

NOPE

Throw your head at her face. Suffocate her unconscious. You're not letting an assassin through the door!

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/15(Tue)15:42 No. 758834 ID: a606da
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“Depend on who ih ahking.” I back away slowly, ready to run if I have to. I stretch my tentacles out as much as I can, making myself seem larger, but the figure is somehow still taller than I am.

“Ah… I did not mean to scare you. My apologies.” They shake off their hood. Long, wiry strands of hair tumble out. The person appears to be female, at least based on what I can see of their face. “Please, do forgive my lack of manners. I am a friend.”

“You are?” I point to her brooch. “Intere’ting brooh dere.”

“Hm? Oh, this…” She glances down at her broken amulet, sighing sadly. “It is rather indicative, no? To be honest, I am not a Messenger, per se; I was a Messenger, however, and I would love to be one again.”

“Huh. Can I help you?” I ask, relaxing a little. “Do you want me to deliver a mehhage?”

“No, nothing so complex. I simply require directions.” She smiles. She seems to be extremely exhausted; she’s pale, she sways slightly from side to side, her eyes are surrounded by very dark circles, and her voice is raspy and quiet. “I wish to meet with a Messenger named Lydiri. He is an old friend. Do you know where I might find him?”

>>758834
What is her hair made out of? ...I guess it doesn't matter, you'd have no way of recognizing Prodigal.

Ask for her name, and a meeting place. You'll let him know.

I'm sorry but he's in a different group then I am in today so I'm not sure where exactly he is. Would you like me to give him a message... Oh and a name so he knows who it's from?

And if you're worried about a price I think we can call it even if you tell me how you were a former massager? I honestly didn't know one could leave but you do look like you could blend into a crowd a little better then me.

what a minute, why does this sound like something seth told us. Something about some guy named Prodigal...
>Prodigal looked like a man made out of wires, with an attractive human head.

> but the youngest princess of Tycandora vanished at about the same time that Prodigal joined us

>While he was with us, I’d love to say that he was cruel, that he was a monster, but he wasn’t. He was kind, open-minded, good-humored, and very helpful.

>Prodigal had killed the entire ruling class of Tycandora in one night. Using Speech and his own metallic body, he killed somewhere in the range of eighty-thousand to a hundred-thousand people

>they call him the Wicker Prince nowadays, or Cord, or other names in that same vein.

...for the love of god keep that polite and cheerful look on your face and play the naive kid here who can barely tell their ass from their elbow.

>>758843
Oh, Prodigal was a dude. This isn't him, then. Unless he changed his shape again, but I'm not so sure that's possible, nor would he choose to become female again.

>>758844
Well, right now all we have is long hair and a feminine voice. Let's not discount that possibility.

>>758843
This seems the correct way to treat it. Be polite, offer a solution, but be unable to give her a location.

Maybe introduce yourself in an attempt to get her name in return.

>>758844
Prodigal's body was mostly wire. If he's skilled in shaping it, you could craft false-hair from wire, and wear a mask / overlay his face with extra wire material to fake a female image, probably.

Could also just be some kind of illusion. Prodigal was really skilled in Word-magic, and we already know that can alter perceptions (our paper that was invisible to certain people but not others, for example).

>>758834
Even if it's not Prodigal, this is still sketchy AF. Reveal nothing.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/15(Tue)17:41 No. 758888 ID: a606da
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“How are you a former Mehhenger? I didn’t know one could leave.”

“Ah. It is not a pleasant story.” She winces. “It involved two philosophies: the first was that of the Messengers, while the second was my own. I betrayed both. I would rather not bore you with any further details.”

“Lydiri ih in a different group dan I am today. I don’t know where he ih, ehactly.” I shake my head. “If you tell me your name, I might be able to work out a time and playe for a meeting.”

I wait for an answer, but she’s silent.

“Do you not want dat?”

“Oh, no, it is a very generous offer. Thank you. I do not mean to be rude, only…” She trails off, looking uncomfortable. “Well, I am sorry to impose conditions when you are being so kind, but… after I tell you my name, will you promise not to be scared of me?”

>What is her hair made out of?

It looks like metallic wire.

As I examine her hair, I notice the strands shifting and bending in odd, snakelike ways.

Talk some more, get one of your octopi to sneak behind her, and SUFFOCATE HER UNTIL SHE STOPS MOVING. I don't care if that's Prodigal or his daughter, just neutralize her before she can talk her way into your house and butcher your new family! You can talk it out when she's in a warded titanium prison cell.

>after I tell you my name, will you promise not to be scared of me?
If you don't do anything scary, I won't be scared, okay?

I think I might have guessed already, though. I don't think there are a lot of ex-messengers.

If she (or he) gives you your name, respond in kind.

Might as well be honest if it's really Prodigal: you don't know if they're ready to forgive. You don't know everything yet, by a lot, by they still seem pretty upset about what happened.

(Assuming of course that Prodigal is being sincere, and this is not a ploy, of course. But we lose nothing by giving him the benefit of the doubt right now, and we lack the means to resist, fight, detail or escape from him anyways if we force a confrontation).

Oh, sweet, merciful lord, it's him.
Her.
Whatever.
Get ready to bolt.

>>758888
uh... ok. As long as you don't do anything to scare me that should be pretty easy

>>758888
Prodigal, right? Tell him you were given a different description. Did he trade it for the power he needed to get his revenge? He must know by now the Messengers want him dead. Does he think it's such a good idea to try to meet with Lydiri?

Well, we can't really control how scared we are, but we can promise to stay and hear them out.

>>758888
Well, not really, because we already know who you are and are already terrified, so that precludes both conditions.
Can we use Words? 'Run' is a word.

Am I allowed to be scared if I just guess, without you telling me? I mean, there aren't very many ex-Messengers made of metal.

That matter of conflicting philosophies seems less boring than you're trying to make it out to be. Maybe you should explain why you're not going to kill me and everyone I care about? Just to keep things balanced, my own reasons for not killing you include, but are not limited to, never having done such a thing before, clumsiness due to inexperience with my mew body, and your comparative invulnerability.

>>758888

The name seems unnecessary at this point. You have some idea of who this might be. And in that case, what have you got to actually be afraid of? If they wanted to harm you, they could have already. They seem to be here to get back in the Messengers' good graces (or at least, get to or at Lydiri).

Whether they're genuinely repentant or they're planning something else is, frankly, not your problem or judgement call to make, and they're not going to hurt you as long as they want to use you. So, you're probably safe, for now. Just carry on as if this was situation normal.

Squish/rub your squid head with an arm tentacle, look a little thoughtful.

"I -am- 'uppohed tuh be neutral... look, we don't have tuh make thih hard. If yuh want tuh talk tuh Lydiri, I promihe I will take a mehhage and make no judgement on tuh being giving tuh mehhage. Lydiri would probably approve of thuh approach. Lehh truhbul fuh everyone involved."

"If you're Prodigal, that's difficult to promise, but I'm willing to hear your side of this or whatever else you'd like to talk about."

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/26(Sat)09:19 No. 761596 ID: a606da
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“What if I’ve already figured out who you are?”

“Have you?” She(?) considers this with a forlorn expression. “In that case, I suppose your response would be up to you. I couldn’t force you to control your reaction, anyway. Well, I suppose I could, technically - but Emotion is a fickle force, and I prefer to avoid dealing with it. That being said, forget my conditions. My name is Prodigal.”

“I’m Gertrude.” I nod cautiously, taking care not to lose my head. “If you don’t do anyting ‘cary, I won’t be ‘cared.”

“Your reaction is refreshing. My introduction usually provokes either fleeing or attempts on my life.” Prodigal exhales with relief. “You are a kind person, Gertrude, and I am pleased to meet you.”

“Tank you.” I look him over. He still seems extremely androgynous, if not explicitly feminine. “I wuh given a different dehcryptun of you, Prodigal.”

“Ah, so you have noticed the partial regression in my appearance? I theorize that it is due to my recent death, which is a mildly complicated topic. This face ironically works well as a disguise, though it is by no means ideal.”

“Um… can you maybe ekplain why you’re not going to kill me and everyone I care about?”

“What?! I would never hurt you!” Prodigal looks scandalized. “I am a pacifist, and I have always been one. Except for a single night.”

“It wuh a big night.”

“It happened. I do not regret my actions, nor do I consider them entirely logical. But that disgusting business is complete. If I am to be free of my past, I must devote myself to creating a better future.” Prodigal wheezes sadly. “I am responsible for much suffering, yes, but I will cause no more. I am not a monster.”

“I don’t know if tuh Mehhengerh are ready to forgive you.” I frown. “Dey don’t ‘eem happy about what happened.”

“Oh.” Prodigal wavers, looking at the floor. “I… I assumed as much, but it is still painful to be rejected by family.” He sounds like he might start crying. “I am grateful for your honesty, Gertrude. Stay honest, please, and tell me: Do you hate me?”

“I am ‘uppohed to be neutral…” I think it over. “It ih difficult, but I’m willing to hear your ‘ide of dih, or whatever you’d like to talk about.”

“You will? Th - Thank you! Goodness, no one has ever offered to listen to me. I am honored. I believe it is better to listen elsewhere, however.” Prodigal’s cloak throws itself open, and dozens of wires slither out like animals, grasping at the air. Several of them split into smaller wires which hang purposefully in the air. Space, be a dear, would you? You still owe me quite a few lifetimes, so please be silent about the price.”

A symbol flashes in the emptiness between Prodigal’s outstretched wires. For some reason, it reminds me of the Messengers’ ankh.

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2016/11/26(Sat)09:25 No. 761602 ID: a606da
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The street around us bends into a circle, and then it uncurls into somewhere else entirely. I feel a dreadful vertigo.

“Was that your first time? I apologize.” Prodigal’s regretful voice drifts into my focus. “If it helps, the second traversal is usually much easier on the system.”

“Where - ?” I barely manage to get a word out before I fall to pieces.

“Ah!” Prodigal’s wires fly out from under his robe and instantly weave themselves into a net to catch me. “We are under the sea. I chose the location to better accommodate you. You can go for a swim, if you would like; I made sure that the water will be comfortable for you. More importantly, are you alright?”

“I tink?” I slowly put myself back together. “Yeah, I am.”

“That is good.” Prodigal smiles. I jump back as his wires shove a small cup of steaming liquid into my face. “Would you like some tea? It is my own blend. It always perks me right up after a nasty traversal. I can have Space spirit up any other refreshments you might want, too. Just say the word.”

“Um…” I gaze out into the ocean, distracted.

“Again, I apologize.” Prodigal laughs nervously. “I am very excited, so I may be speaking overly fast. I am doubtless awkward in many ways; I have been alone for a long time. Oh, sorry, perhaps I should have kept that to myself… so, um, moving on! What do you want to talk about? Are you curious about anything in particular?”

One nagging question: why?
Why abuse the Messenger's power?
Why kill so many people?
Why wait so long to seek out the Messenger's again?
Why does he think that anyone will ever forgive him?
Why come to Gertrude? She has no reason to trust him, and even less reason to help him.

>My introduction usually provokes either fleeing or attempts on my life.
Honestly, I'm not equipped to succeed at either. I haven't learned how to run in my new form yet, and you chose one that would take some creativity for anyone to harm.

>We are under the sea.
How far under? I'm not sure what depth my new form is rated to. If my octopi are comfortable in atmosphere at sea level, they can't be deep water critters.

>I made sure that the water will be comfortable for you
Oh nevermind, they and/or space cheater to make sure it was right.

>What do you want to talk about? Are you curious about anything in particular?
Well, I suppose I should first allow you to give your story in your own words. No one has heard your side of things.

After he or she tells her tale:

The principle problem the messengers, as a whole, have with you is they view your actions as a betrayal of everything they are. From their perspective, it appears premeditated, too. That you mastered Speaking and chose a form specifically suited for the massacre you were planning. And... *look around at the spacial distortion around you* I expect they would find complaint if your current Speaker was paid for in advance by that night.

Frankly, your biggest problem would be convincing them you're being honest, now. They believe you lied to them the entire time you were a messenger. Trust will not be easy.

I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm just warning you what you have stacked up against you. If you really want to be a messenger again, it will not be an easy path.

>Are you curious about anything in particular?
That business of his or her recent death might be worth asking about.

>>761602
Guys, why are we listening to this actual mass-murderer?
Why are we in his creepy, undersea lair?
What are we hoping to accomplish?

>>761615
Beats me!
One minute we're delivering someone's booty call, the next we're having tea with a wireframe Hannibal Lecter!

>>761615
Not getting murdered?

We have no means to harm something made out of metal, or that possess archwizard tier Speaking. We can barely walk, we don't have the means to flee (even before we get into Space shenanigans).

When Cthulhu comes up to you and offers to have tea beneath the waves you do it, because there are no better options. When evil offers to be affable, you let it, because it beats the alternative.

The goal is to obtain information that may be useful to us, and try to get the crazy murderer positively disposed towards us. And to survive. While acknowledging, inwardly, that they may be lying about everything they tell us, and may be trying to build a rapport simply to use us. (Redeeming or recruiting Prodigal is arguably a goal, but I'd say that's laughably unlikely for now).

If Prodigal's so all knowing, ask them why the quest's called Last of the Messengers. You counted at least, like, three Messengers. Probably more.

>>761627
If there aren't any more made after us then this group would still be the last.

>>761621
>a well written, thoughtful, logical response
Thank you very much.

>We are under the sea.
"I haven't seen the sea since I ran to join the messengers"

>>Would you like some tea?
sure, take some tea. I mean I don't see her trying to harm you with it seeing how she has much simpler, easier, and quicker ways of dealing with you if she wanted to hurt you. Might as well be polite.


Well, uh... do you want to talk business right off the bat or would you prefer we start with some small talk?

If you want to start with business what exactly do you want me to say to the other messengers. After you, uh, left the rest of the world saw what a messenger could do and people actually started to attack the messengers out of fear. Even if that wasn't much of a problem the messengers themselves where kinda crippled by the sudden distrust placed upon them. I mean I was told they use to be delegates between kings and countries but lately they talk whatever job people will hire them for just to make ends meat. I'm only telling you this because I think it is only fair to let you know what to expect.

As for small talk... so how did you know where to find the perfect spot in the ocean for me? I mean I haven't had this body for to long so I'm still trying to figure things out.

I could attempt to explain the myriad ways Princess Murder8!+(# could convince you of her cause, use poisons to mess with your mind, rewrite your memory as she talks her way into your core and shatters it from the outside.

But the simple fact is, she's a higher level than you. You cannot fight back with words, it's her strongest talent. You cannot harm her, you do not have the initiative against a walking bundle of wires that has learned to strangle hundreds of babies while shooting their mothers with pinpoint accuracy. You cannot run or use the environment, she's smart enough to immunize herself against electrical shocks, rust, and depth pressure, and she will likely use them against YOU. You need to defend your body and mind.

STAY PARANOID. There's a difference between looking at the enemy's perspective and @#$%ing Stockholm Syndrome.

At least send PART of yourself out there to swim!

>>761615

There's also the weird thing about them being an all-around nice guy, then being a mass murderer and apparent tyrant, and then... suddenly being an awkward, tired and lonely-sounding dude partway regressed from their Messenger form.

They denied having killed anyone after the 'one night', which seems at odds with the stories of them putting themselves up as a tyrant called the Wicker Prince/Cord. Having been alone for a long time also seems a little odd; a tyrant is not, per se, alone when they are busy tyrannizing. Did they mean alone as in 'kindred spirits/friends' alone, perhaps? Or were they not actually the Wicker Prince, after all, and have been elsewhere?

It seems important for Gertrude to remain as friendly and unbiased as able, which means to accept the tea (it's polite) and listen to their story for however long it takes. We can ask incisive questions as needed and look for contradictions in their tale (but we should perhaps not press those contradictions too hard, for obvious reasons).

I'm also mildly worried/intrigued about the 'price' mentioned to Space. Why would Space be owing 'lifetimes' to Prodigal ('still', even, indicating more has been owed in the past), and what -is- the actual cost of what Prodigal just casually asked Space to perform for Gertrude's apparent comfort and benefit?

>and listen to their story for however long it takes
Well, actually, no. We do have someone waiting for us to return and deliver a reply message ("Yes") and if this takes too long, we may have to ask for a recess so we can deliver that message before it gets rude, or the person waiting for a reply assumes the worst or gets upset.

Although I wouldn't be surprised if Prodigal is on good terms with Time, too, and would be perfectly willing to bend great cosmic power to ensure our undersea tea party can run long without us being late.

>>761675
>STAY PARANOID
Absolutely not. Paranoia is for people who have some hope of defending themselves. Prodigal is the legendary unsurpassed master of a magic system you learned the existence of less than a week ago. Assume good faith until proven otherwise, and pursue a diplomatic resolution, or you're already dead a thousand times over.

>>761596
>owe me quite a few lifetimes
So, am I correct in thinking that, on "that one night," you ritually sacrificed all (or most of) those people to various aspects of reality in exchange for future favors?

Why did you officially leave the Messengers, and, because surely any such issue would involve some sort of internal politicking, what do you think the real reason was? How much do you know about the Messengers' internal story of your career with them, and activities afterward? Justification and interpretation aside, what in-principle independently-verifiable facts vary between your version and theirs?

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2018/03/29(Thu)21:36 No. 875949 ID: a606da
File 152238457434.png - (233.43KB , 800x600 , lotm67.png )

“I haven’t heen tuh eea - not hinh I ran to join tuh Mehhengerh.” I gaze out into the ocean, distorted and blurry through the odd glass(?) sphere we seem to be occupying. “How far under? I don’t know what depuh my new form ih rated to. If I’m comfortable in atmopeer at eea level, my octopuheh can’t be deep water critterh.”

“I am not sure what unit of measurement to use.” Prodigal bites his lip. “Not too deep, I think? There is not much pressure here. I think I have the right area for your sort of species. Still, if I am wrong, I will protect you, Gertrude. I promise.”

“Well, uh…” I glance down at the tea Prodigal gave me, not sure whether to drink it or not. I dare to take a sip. It’s wonderful, actually! “Do you want to talk buhineh right off the bat, or would you prefer we tart wih ‘mall talk?”

“Whichever you are comfortable with, I suppose!” Prodigal smiles, anxiously backing away from me in an apparent attempt to give me more personal space. “I - I would like to be friends with you. I have never been very good at that, though. Making friends, I mean. Speaking is my strength, not, uh, not social matters; I find that excelling at one has meant little regarding the other, oddly enough.” Prodigal sighs, quietly gazing at the shattered ankh hanging from his neck. “I miss the Messengers. I loved them. They were the only friends I ever knew, and my better family.”

“Why did you leave?” I quietly ask him. “How muh do you know about what dey tink about your career wih dem, and what you did afterward? Dey believe you lied to dem tuh entire time. Dey view your actunh ah a betrayal of everyting dey are. It appeauh premeditated, too.”

“I did not leave, nor betray, nor lie! I would never, if I had any choice at all. I am a Messenger if I am anything!” For a moment, Prodigal puffs himself up, indignant - but a moment later, he wilts, and the bravado ceases. “Which means I am nothing. Oh, what is the use? I do not know the specifics of what you have heard, but it is doubtless true, for I know my friends would never lie. I know they must hate me.”

“Why kill dat many people?” A thought occurs to me as I glance into the ocean around us, and the glass orb we’re inside of. “…Am I correct in tinking dat, on ‘dat one night’, you ritooally ‘akrified all of dem to variuh apect of reality for favor?”

“I - I sort of did. Accidentally.” Prodigal mumbles with surprising eloquence. He looks away. “But… excuse me, I…”

Gertrude!5tTWT1eydY 2018/03/29(Thu)21:36 No. 875950 ID: a606da
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To my surprise, Prodigal bursts into tears.

“I beg you, Gertrude, try to understand!” Prodigal shudders and sobs, yet his words are as collected as ever. It doesn’t strike me as deceptive - I can hear the misery and desperation in his voice - but more as though he can’t help but speak clearly. “I cannot say that I wanted to do anything I have done, but also I cannot say that any of it was a mistake. I offer no excuses. Rather, it is simply a shame that my life is what it is, and that events conspired to rule me as they have done. A terrible shame!”

“I’m not trying to be cruel.” I lightly try to comfort him. Cautiously. From a distance. “I’m jut warning you what you have ‘tacked up againt you. It will not be an eahee road.”

“I know. You have been both honest and kind. May Word favor you.” Prodigal continues to weep. “Are you scared of me? Please, do not be.”

“I…” I hesitate.

“Oh. I see.” Prodigal whimpers, taking my silence for an answer. “I am sorry. I was not trying to frighten you. I never try. It just happens, now. Everyone is scared of me. I am, too. I am scared all the time, and I do not think anyone can help me, and that scares me even more.” Prodigal gazes miserably into my eyes, his face wet with tears. “Help me.” He pleads. “I do not know what to do. Please.”

I feel like I’ve been given the final exam on my first day of class.

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“I apologize.” Prodigal quickly fights back his tears, wiping his face on his robe. “I have been rude.” He forces a smile, quivering with nervousness. “Ignore my indiscretion. You are a guest. You are not here to solve my problems, you are here because - because I invited you.” Prodigal winces on the word ‘invited’, apparently realizing that he never actually asked for my permission. “Shall we go swimming?”

I tentatively nod.

Instantly, Prodigal throws off his robe. Underneath is nothing but a wild mass of wires constituting his body, with the only flesh being around his face and head. With a whisper, he does away with the glass around us, and we tumble down into the water.

Almost immediately, I come to pieces. I flail wildly, trying to collect myself, but one of my hand-selves slips away from me. I’m struck by a familiar vertigo as I see the world through two perspectives, and I meet my own gaze to find it full of panic.

I realize, to my horror, that I don’t know how to swim anymore! Not as I am now, anyway. Not in this form. I helplessly look over at Prodigal, but his eyes are closed as he drifts happily along in the current.

I don’t know what to do!

you can breath right? Octopi should be able to breath underwater. Just focus on keeping yourself together then once you're sure you won't drift apart try splitting a single octopus off of yourself and have it focus on swimming around your main cluster. then once you get comfortable with that add a few more until you can get to the point where all of you can swim... might take awhile though but hey, got to start somewhere.

You can't drown down here. Take all the time you need to move a single tentacle on a single body.

Of course, the lack of oxygen in your lungs means your brain is going into low-power mode, so try to think up a plan of some sort before you go stupid.

>>875951
You've seen octopi swim before right? Let your parts separate a little, but stay close together. Mimic the movements you saw. It's like paddling but with every tentacle instead of just two arms.
Or just let one octopus go and control it specifically to experiment with tentacle swimming technique.

>>875951
Calm down and focus on getting your parts under control. You should be able to breathe underwater, though now would be a really crummy time to discover that your relationship to actual octopi is purely cosmetic. What you don't want is to sink any deeper. Octopi propel themselves in the water by using their siphons. Do you have a siphon? Now's a good time to experiment.

Octopuses swim, it is normal for them, gestalts are untested. Go to the most distant octopus and swim with just one, back to your collective, you can catch it if it is out of control. Once you know what one moving feels like, you can work on spreading that feeling to all of yourself.

Just don't panic, ink would be terrible right now.

>Rather, it is simply a shame that my life is what it is, and that events conspired to rule me as they have done. A terrible shame!
I'm not sure blaming his actions on circumstances will tread much water with the others. It feels too much like a denial of responsibility.

>I don’t know what to do!
Maybe it's not so important to hold your parts together under water. Your bits don't have to be touching to control them, right? So you just need each octopus to stay near the others. A school, or a cloud moving together.

Once you've got the hang of moving octopi in the water, you can worry about trying to swim in a human-shaped formation.

Hmm. Hopefully Word's piece of paper will be fine under water?

Relax. You are safe. Breath through your gills.
Then, start trying to move with one body at a time. Remember: You are built for this.

Focus on staying perfectly still and move one piece at a time, beginning with moving your handtopus back into reach of your armtopus.