Difference between revisions of "Amanita (Chapter 21)"

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(Created page with "{{Amanita nav}} To celebrate me getting the Gidbinn, Ormus made up a poem. Amanita, the ebon-hued minx! The black clothes suggest certain kinks. Did she strip down for spe...")
 
(Created redirect after moving content to Amanita (Act III) page)
 
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#REDIRECT [[Amanita (Act III)#Chapter 21]]
To celebrate me getting the Gidbinn, Ormus made up a poem.
 
 
 
 
 
Amanita, the ebon-hued minx!
 
 
 
The black clothes suggest certain kinks.
 
 
 
Did she strip down for speed,
 
 
 
Or just have too much weed?
 
 
 
She does like the green stuff, methinks.
 
 
 
 
 
I made up one right back.  I was nice enough to keep it to myself, though.
 
 
 
 
 
I ain't a good poet,
 
 
 
but I know it.
 
 
 
 
 
Before I went back out, I checked my gear.  A set of purple plate armor was waiting by my stuff.  The Mule didn't even bother with a note this time.  I got some red underpadding the purple looked good with.  I like red, and look good in it, and the purple matched great.  But the crossbow was still green... and now it clashed.  I hate green.
 
 
 
Maybe I could dye the bow later or something.  No point mucking around with it now.  This is a mission, not a fashion show.  Back in the Flayer village, I found some stairs leading down.  It turned out to be another tomb complex, with coffins, traps, and undead.  Tombs aren't so bad.  They're nice and dark, with plenty of places to hide and slow, stupid monsters.  Mostly, they're boring, as poison doesn't hurt undead much so it takes them forever to die.  One level of the tomb didn't have a single solid enemy in it, only ghosts and will o' wisps.
 
 
 
The lowest floor of the tomb was a big maze, trapped to hell and full of rich burials.  The Flayer Shamans were using the corner tomb as some kind of meeting hall, I counted seven in that one room.  That fire breath of theirs can make things pretty toasty, so I took the better part of valor and stayed outside, sniping as they scampered past.  The leader, resplendent in his emerald-studded loincloth, was too fast for me to target.  I didn't get him until I aimed at someone else, and he ran into the bolt's path.  In the back of the tomb, the most protected place in the whole damn jungle, was a steel strongbox with... a human brain.
 
 
 
<pre>
 
Hey, Natty, guess what I found?                    New armor! Lookin' good
 
      Yeah, this is a lot better.                    Why is it purple?
 
                    Guess what else?              All right, it's better
 
                                                        than green...
 
        Forget the armor a minute        Ok, ok. What'd you find?
 
                  More saint bits        Hey, a brain!
 
                    I like brains    You're good with them
 
                It's still pink too    It looks alive
 
                      I don't see why it shouldn't.
 
          AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!                  AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
 
    You didn't say that!                        Well, you sure didn't!
 
                    Please pardon my interruption.
 
      The brain is talking                    This is too freaky
 
      How can you talk? You
 
      don't have any lips!                  Not to mention blood,
 
      Ok, you don't need lips                a stomach, a skull...
 
        to share thoughts
 
        even if Natty moves
 
      her lips when she sends                  No I don't... do I?
 
                  I could not say, as I cannot see you.
 
Holy sh!t, the brain can talk                      It's alive! Alive!
 
      Why didn't you say
 
            anything before?
 
                You did not seem to desire conversation.
 
              And, being noticeably irreligious, might not
 
                  welcome comment from one such as I.
 
          What's that                                  Ouch
 
        supposed to mean?
 
                  Neither more nor less than you think.
 
      Listen, buster, I got
 
      no use for religion
 
    or saints giving me lip
 
                  My lips, wherever they may be by now,
 
                        shall never bother you.
 
                                                    Never mind her
 
                                                You're Khalim, I guess
 
                                  Yes.        What are you doing here?
 
                I have been waiting for the opportunity to
 
            fulfill my vow to protect the world from Mephisto.
 
        You still upset
 
          about that?      I was not pleased.    Wouldn't you be?
 
    I'd think being cremated
 
  would mellow me out a little                      I think I'd be
 
                                                    even more upset
 
            Being upset or not makes little difference. I see
 
          that both of you understand the importance of a vow.
 
      Well, yeah                                        Of course
 
          All my life, I tried to live my vow to be a shield
 
          of faith and virtue for the world. But my vision was
 
        flawed, and I did not see the rising corruption in my own
 
        house. When I was finally forced to see, my heart failed
 
          within me. My strength wavered, and I was destroyed.
 
    Religion ain't good
 
      for your vision                                Amy, shut up
 
        You have called me a saint, but it is failure that nails
 
        me to the earth. I must atone, and destroy my destroyer.
 
    That'll take some doing                You are kind of handicapped
 
                        It is my only purpose.
 
        I don't suppose you
 
        have much else to                Amy, quit being a bitch
 
          do these days                  Khalim, what can you do?
 
                              I can wait.
 
                                        That's... not much
 
      Hadn't you been
 
      doing that anyway?
 
          I have nothing now, but that will change. The Angels
 
          would not leave me here unless I could do some good.
 
            Hmm...                    Can't argue with that
 
                                        What should we do?
 
            The best you can, with whatever you are given.
 
      Keep doing what we
 
        were doing, then              Or something like that
 
</pre>
 
 
 
I went back to my hut, with Natalya following.  Her shields were up and tight.  I don't know if Khalim could still read me from inside the cube, but it was the most secure place I had.  Once he was put away, Natalya spoke to me, out loud.
 
 
 
"What the hell was that?  You don't talk to saints that way."
 
 
 
"Why not?  If he's a saint, he can take it.  Patience is a job requirement."
 
 
 
"It looks bad.  This is -- or was -- a holy city, so lots of people around here are religious.  Let's see a little more reverence, huh?"
 
 
 
"Since when did you stick up for religion?  It's a crutch for people who can't take life without a mommy to kiss their boo-boos all better.  Yeah, there's higher powers, but it's not like they ever cared about us common people."
 
 
 
"This is public relations, Amy.  It's about not pissing people off.  The world's falling apart.  It's not just missions anymore.  We can't kill one guy, have everything go back to normal, and fade quietly into the night.  It's never going to be like that again."
 
 
 
"What, you want people to know about us?  Maybe we should tell everybody we can read their minds?  Or control their minds?  That'll go over real nice."
 
 
 
"People aren't stupid, Amy.  They've figured out you've got something nobody else does, or you wouldn't still be alive.  They don't know what it is yet, but they're not stupid."
 
 
 
I didn't say anything.  I knew a lot of our cover was blown, I blew some of it myself.  "So I piss people off sometimes.  I never said I was a saint."
 
 
 
"You don't have to be.  Amy, we're independent-minded people.  The order picked us because we were.  But you'll be a hell of a lot better off if you think about other people's feelings once in a while."
 
 
 
"Yeah... I've been yelled at about that before." I smiled. "I'll try, ok?"
 
 
 
Natalya smiled back.  "Ok.  I'm trying too.  It's hard."
 
 
 
"I guess it's just that I've been trained to think of 'feelings' as something in the target's mind I can use against him."
 
 
 
"It's not just missions anymore.  Just keep saying that."
 
 
 
"Ok.  It's not just missions anymore."
 
 
 
"Good.  Now get back out there.  Ormus hasn't done anything yet."
 
 
 
"Unless he did it while we were standing around yammering."
 
 
 
"Shut up," she suggested.  "Now get out there and kill those midgets."
 
 
 
"Yes, ma'am."
 

Latest revision as of 15:49, 13 February 2017