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Insert Thy Dungeonman “Throw Baby” joke here

I hadn’t heard of Thy Dungeonman, so I looked it up and now I’m playing it.

I’m currently trying to figure out how to go back not Dennis.

I didn’t figure that out, but I accidentally refreshed the page, so I’m free now. Let’s see if there’s something less inescapable to the north.

rip

I don’t trust this trinket to the south.

> look trinket

Fine, fine…

Well, that could’ve gone worse.

Maybe Dennis would like this.

Yay!

But I didn’t find any babies to throw 😦

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Jack waved him off.  “She’ll try.  So many have, and they’ve all failed so far.  But it’s good that it’s a little dangerous, a little risky.  It’s no fun if I know how it’s going to play out.  Some unpredictability, it gives spice to life.  Maybe I’ll kill her right after I see the look on her face.  Maybe I’ll escape and leave her to wallow in her misery.”

This is reminding me of a character from El Goonish Shive:

Though Jack’s enjoyment of the unpredictable seems a bit more subdued.

Escape?  From a fifteen story apartment building, against a supervillain who can fly and level city blocks?

Good point. What does he do, use a knife like a vaulting pole? Then again, the way his power was described, I’m not sure that would work.

Then again, Jack had done worse things than murder the child of a cape like Purity, and he was still here.

True.

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This was recent.  Siberian had done this in the time it took Bitch to get here.

Damn, she’s quick.

That much was to be expected given her tiger theme, really, but still.

More blood, one of the boys, a dog groomer with years of experience, lying beside the kitchen counter, his shirt wadded up and pressed to his face.

At least she seems to have left everyone alive, though injured.

Around the shirt, she could see the four parallel tracks where Siberian’s fingernails had left gouges running across his face.

Ouch.

None of the dogs were hurt.  She had to double-check them to see.  Most were cowering in the corners.  Some had retreated up the stairs.

Yeah, no surprise there. Siberian seemed to genuinely like the dogs, and with this being framed as a present, it wouldn’t make as much sense for her to hurt the ones even she can tell Bitch actually cares about.

The blood had a pattern to it, as though Siberian had painted a picture with the spray.  A line drawing from each of the injured to the center of the room, where a box sat, faintly dusted with flecks of blood.

…oh, huh.

She was nervous as she opened it, but she couldn’t not.

AND THAT’S WHERE I’LL END TONIGHT’S– no, I’m kidding

Let’s see what we have here.

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Glory Girl caught Roxy around the snout as the dog lunged for her, and threw her down at Lucy.

My mental images get weird when the names cause me to picture the dogs as other fictional characters. In this case, Glory Girl grabbed

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this great gal by the nose and threw her down at

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this asshole on the right.

(I think I liked it better when the name Lucy just reminded me of my friend.)

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Then the plastic cover of the pool began to slide closed.  When Rachel had looked to the house, she’d seen her foster-mother standing on the other side of the sliding glass door that opened into the backyard, her finger on the switch.

OH FUCK YOU

To be fair, maybe she doesn’t see Rollo from there and thinks Rachel just decided to have a random bath while fully dressed, but I kind of doubt that.

Slowly, gradually, despite her screams and banging on the locked door, the cover had slid over Rollo’s head, trapping him.  For nearly a minute, there was the bulge beneath the cover of Rollo’s head as he swam in tight circles, his sounds of distress muffled.

…

And when that “nearly a minute” expired…?

Her foster-mother’s punishments always matched the crimes.  There could be no doubt Rachel knew the dog from her pleading and shouts, and having a dog was against the rules.  Or maybe it wasn’t even that.  Maybe it was the fact that she was making a disturbance at five in the morning, or the realization that the barking that had plagued her foster mother for so long was Rachel’s fault.

Either way, killing the dog is not a proportionate punishment. Matching, maybe, but by no means proportionate.

Whatever the reason, the dog was to be disposed of, much in the same way as a plate of dinner was thrown out for holding a fork the wrong way or sitting at the table with her legs too far apart.

UUUUGH.

Interlude 11a

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WOO PARTY TIME

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Howdy! It’s time to celebrate the first year of Worm with eight consecutive Interludes! And hey, this is my five thousandth post on this blog, so there’s that too. 😛

So, what are we in for in Interlude 11a? I think I’ve made my predictions on that clear – chances are we’re in for Jack Slash, or one of the other members of the Fellowship of the Meat (in which case I’ll be expecting Jack in Interlude 11h). If we don’t get either, though… I’ll probably be fucked as far as predicting who we’ll be checking on in each Interlude goes.

If we are meeting the Slaughterhouse in this half-Arc, we’re probably getting some brutal behavior.

Without further ado… let’s get this party started!

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I’m ambivalent to Krix doing arc thoughts halfway through this arc, but I definitely don’t want him to generally return to doing arc thoughts before interludes.

INTERLUDES FIRST BEFORE ARC THOUGHTS

Don’t worry, this is a special case. Also, I’m doing both before and after, and in both posts, I will be keeping in mind that they were supposed to be a whole. If it makes you feel better about it, you can consider this first one “Mid-Arc Thoughts”.

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So when we left off, Charlotte and Sierra were about to meet. I think.

That sounds like a nice scene, as Charlotte presumably learns more about why Taylor was there in the first place, and Sierra learns that Skitter saved an actual Merchant victim along the way without being asked to.

“Can you keep him?” she asked, as we stopped.

What? Keep Bryce around, in the Hive? Let Skitter make personally sure he doesn’t go back to the Merchants?

I guess that would be a good way to get this to the conclusion I’ve been thinking of for a couple chapters now, with Charlotte, Sierra and Bryce all staying with Skitter.

“Can I offer him a bed?  Theoretically.  But he’s just going to run.  Not that there’s anywhere for him to run to, but-”

Oh yeah, it was heavily implied that Faultline’s attack on the Merchants might cause the group to fall apart, at least a bit. Go Faultline’s Crew!

I stopped as I saw a confused expression on her face.

Oh yeah, she wouldn’t know that.

“The Merchants may be done for.”

“Because of you?”

Not quite. Taylor was just there for the ride.

I shook my head, “Someone else.  The leaders got pretty badly embarassed, they may have trouble getting their followers to respect them after getting their asses kicked like they did.  The actual criminals would still be on the streets, probably, but they won’t be as organized.  Add infighting, rival groups, greed… they won’t be as focused.”

GO FAULTLINE’S CREW

INFESTATION 11.8

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ATTENTION MORTALS!

MY HUMAN AVATAR HAS RETURNED TO EARTH SO I MAY CONTINUE TO READ YOUR LATEST OFFERING TO THE GODS, THE WORK OF FICTION KNOWN AS “WORM”. I SHALL DEIGN TO KEEP YOU UPDATED ON MY THOUGHTS AS I DO SO.

LAST TIME, THE MORTALS WHOM THOSE WITHOUT ENDLESS WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE OF TRUE NAMES CALL “TAYLOR HEBERT” AND “LISA WILBOURN”, AND THEIR COMPANIONS, SUCCESSFULLY MADE THEIR WAY OUT OF THE FORMER ENCLOSED HUMAN TRANSACTION ZONE IN WHICH THE “MERCHANTS” DWELLED, AND LEARNED MORE ABOUT THE ENTERPRISE THAT CALLS ITSELF “CAULDRON”.

NEXT UP, TAYLOR WILL HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE DREADFUL MORTAL PROCESS OF SOCIAL INTERACTION. 

…WE DON’T DO THAT UP HERE, IT’S NOT WORTH IT. THAT DID LEAD TO A COUPLE WARS BETWEEN MORTALS, BUT WHATEVER.

ANYWAY, “TAYLOR” MUST INFORM “SIERRA” ABOUT THE BEHAVIOR OF “BRYCE”, AND DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT “CHARLOTTE” IS AWARE THAT THE FACES OF “TAYLOR” AND “SKITTER” BELONG TO THE SAME SOUL.

I BELIEVE THAT WILL BE THE MAIN FOCUS OF THE CHAPTER. HOWEVER, THROUGH MY ENDLESS DIVINE WISDOM (AND TOTALLY NOT BEING TOLD BY THE PRIEST), I AM NOW AWARE THAT THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THE ARC PROPER BEFORE DELVING INTO INTERLUDES. AS SUCH, I BELIEVE THE CHAPTER MAY ALSO END WITH THE GROUP KNOWN AS THE “SLAUGHTERHOUSE NINE” OFFICIALLY REVEALING THEIR PRESENCE IN BROCKTON BAY TO THE PUBLIC.

WITHOUT DELAYING FURTHER, I SHALL NOW BEGIN READING AND SHARING MY THOUGHTS. LISTEN CLOSELY OR YOU SHALL BE SMITED. SMITEN? …SMOTE? SMATED. YOU SHALL BE SMATED.

JUST GET WORSHIPPING ALREADY.

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“Is he for real?” I looked to Lisa for an answer.  “Can they do that?”

Going right into the “Taylor getting filled in” part, I see. 🙂 Helpful for anyone who’s forgotten about Upsilon at this point.

“Don’t think he’s lying.”

The crowd roared, and I turned to see why, just in time to see the aftermath of the first attack.  One of the Merchants in the ring had just bludgeoned someone with a length of pipe.

I guess Lisa might not have gotten deep enough into the subject of case 53 to know about the Dealer yet. That’s fair – apparently it took quite a while for Faultline’s Crew to get that far.

Meanwhile, the brawl is on.

Backing away, he found someone he knew, and through some unspoken agreement, they drew together, each protecting the other’s back.

Nice, got some alliances in here. That works a lot better when there are multiple prizes.

Others were having similar ideas.  Groups of friends were banding together, leaving others alone.  One of the loners found another guy without any friends around, shouted something I couldn’t hear, and they drew together.  His new ‘friend’ turned and struck him down from behind not two seconds later.

…good job.

The traitor got his just reward when three young men and a grungy looking old man tackled him to the ground and started beating him.

DRAMA! ACTION! BLOODSHED!