goip says:
CALMLY ASSUME FREEZE INSTINCT. YOU ARE CURRENTLY BEING OVERWHELMED WITH VERY INTENSE CONFLICTING EMOTIONS FESTERING FROM WITHIN YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS AND COLLAPSING IN ON YOU. YOU ARE ALSO POTENTIALLY GOING TO IMMINENTLY DIE IN A STRANGE, ALIEN ENVIRONMENT SURROUNDED BY UNPREDICTABLE, IRRATIONAL ACTORS. DO NOT REACT RASHLY. IT IS GOING TO BE OKAY. IN THE OFF CHANCE SHE THINKS YOU ARE A STRANGE NOVEL PLANT NATIVE TO HOVEHKOH, SHE MAY LEAVE YOU ALONE.
WHY ARE WE YELLING?
Inset-Pencil says:
Thats one fluffy tail
No.
resident ulsunc fan says:
Tail! Now!
Stop it.
Bob says:
Hi Zeb. If all else fails, start speaking herdish
You switch to Herdish hoping she’ll leave you alone. “I do not find solace in the tongue of the Continentals. ”
Cricket the Gormutt tilts her head, “You silly squiggle, you speak continental better than I! But if you must insist—”
“May my perceived encroachment on your solace be false, for I speak in God’s tongue likewise. Prithee, my frizzy lemon, I once again ask of your name bestowed unto you by your father.”
“Uh… I don’t…” you try to find the right words for this hunter speaking Herdish.
“Must you be so reticent? Or shall I journey three paces arseward to ask our liege?”
“No!—N-no…It-It’s Zeb.”
“Zeb? Like Zebby!? Aww, why’d you have to keep such a cute name from me!?”
“I— I don’t know… Um, where’d you learn Herdish? Y-your accent is kind of funny…”
“YOU’RE FUNNY!”
The Gormutt returns to a smile, “Funnily enough I’ve picked up the Herdish tongue here in Siltria! I’d love to study in Hwombazu but I’m not much cut out for menial labor!
“Now… your murder pal!” No…dare I say… murder girlfriend!? Must it be that well-endowed Sorya with the weird name plastered about the city? Yeah? Tittle-tattle has it she gibbed eight of Lady Delaford’s marines! How’d someone as sweet as you cross paths with such a rascal!?”
“I— I don’t think I know what you’re talking about…” you stammer.
“C’mon… A Herdish fellow deep in this den of screwbags? With this many Qoths on you, it’s quite obvious you’ve made her acquaintance.”
“Look, whatever you’ve heard— it— it’s all just plain nonsense. S-she didn’t kill anyone… I doubt she’s even that smart to pull such a plan off! And the poster… well, they just kinda made her chest look… big? Like, nothing about this is accurate…”
“Her chest? You’ve been keeking on her knockers haven’t you, naughty boy?”
“What? No! I-It’s just not her!”
Cricket clicks her tongue, “Oh, I’m sure you’ve studied her thoroughly. Y’know, fangchasing is really ‘in’ right now. And by ‘in’ I mean it’s not but there’s no shortage of fangchasers in the rumor mill. I could name four disgusting freaks in this room right now that fancy getting bit.”
Nath says:
Watch out Zeb- seems like you’re being interrogated.
Jesters are all about getting people to let down their guard. Cricket’s already gotten you to confirm your gender for her. While you weren’t exactly hiding it, it was something you weren’t being up front about, context-wise.
Oh goodness, you’re right. You can’t go through this again… It’s all too much. You pull your hat down over your head.
“I-I’m not particularly interested in that gossip right now. I’m sorry… I-I just f-feel really overwhelmed. I- I’m not comfortable answering questions. I know this is an interrogation and I’m not going to get myself in trouble…”
“An interrogation? Who do you peg me for? Some lead-mollared fork-brain with one leg and no acres?”
“W-what? No, you’re with the Qoths, aren’t you?”
“You wound me, sir. You think I, a Gortogen, would fancy the Qoths? I’m just here for the food, God knows how famished they’ve made us!”
For a moment she hums a quiet tune.
“Do you like crank engines? My late-husband had a demi-crank back in ’87. I think it was a Wurnich Arsenal Type 70. Straddling that big boy felt like riding a shooting star. We used to take it off-road and it’d shake so much I thought it’d come apart.”
…
…You…
…chime in with your expertise on crank engines…
“…The arbor was known to shear off on the 70s.”
“Right? I’ve heard of that happening, but it’s a miracle the spring in it didn’t…eh… what’s the term…”
“Unspool?”
She snaps her finger, “That’s the word!”
“This was before suspension, r-rough terrain would wear down the arbor over time and it would just cause the whole mainspring to jump out. I-it happened a lot with two-wheelers. It still can happen with vertical spooling.”
“My my my, peradventure we found the town cranker…”
Slowly feeling more comfortable you peek out, “I-it’s kind of a hobby of mine— context wise. I-it’s also part of my job, heh.” you sit up, “I like crank races though.”
She hands you a ball, “So you fancy the circus, eh? Caught any of my acts there?”
“Heh, y-yeah. I-I saw the part where y-you were covered in grease and you stole one of the cranks a-and, uh…well… you—”
“Drove by and spanked Lord Wyndym on the bum before rolling the crank into an awning? One of my favorites… Quite the profound spectacle, no?”
“H-how did the Qoth’s not kill you for that?”
“Believe me, dear, they dragged me out to snip my neck. There I was on the block, with the headsman’s axe aloft, asked of my final words…
“The words that made me the only girl that could make Lord-Commander-of-the-Region Shavvard himself blow air out of his nose.”
“I told them— ‘my liege, whilst you take my head, you wouldn’t mind if I arch my back so my arse looks fat?’”
You release a frantic giggle.
hamster says:
ask her questions back, establish dominance!
You feel the fur on your neck relax, and you sit up and fidget with the ball.
She smirks at you, “Okay, so it was the reheated joke that reeled you back in. I see how it is.”
“Uh, Cricket, If you don’t mind me asking—”
“Sure!”
“—but you and your husband rode a lot?”
“Late-husband, but yes we were quite fond of Wurnichs. My short little legs couldn’t reach the ground so I just held onto him. That man… Ugh… he piloted cranks like a headless squami trying to lick its own ass.”
“Did he…”
“Eat shit? Frequently. The last ride was the nastiest… They found him on the side of the road with one of the tillers stuck right through his abdomen. Suffice to say, he never rode again!”
“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry…”
She gives a tender smile, “Oh, don’t be, dear. As God would have it, with him gone, I just know somehow he’s still with me…”
“I— yeah. Sure…”
…
“So, when was the last time you got brutally murderized by a crank?”
The sandwych and coffee arrive.
“Oooooh, that looks scrumptious!” the Gormutt licks her lips.
“Heh, yeah I guess.” You look to the soldier, “Thank you, sir.”
They’ve brought you a warm sandwych with various vegetables drizzled in a red and orange sauce between toasted flatbread. You lay the sandwych on your lap and smell the Qothic coffee. You pick up a bolder, smokier aroma, with a hint of sweetness. This is the first meal you’ve had since yesterday morning so you waste no time to start. You begin to take a sip.
Cricket gently taps you on the leg, “Aheh, wait just a moment, my dear. You.. know what’s in that, right?”
“Uh… Qothic water?”
“Pfft, goodness no, it won’t kill you. The Qoths like to put a dash of Oxcot Sugar in their coffee. I myself am a regular drinker but I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you a heads up. I’d be such a bad mama…”
“Oh, alright…”
“It’s quite yummy though! If you drink that make sure you get a crash buddy! Especially if it’s your first time.”
“Okay… I like coffee and I’ve always been curious about trying the Qothic kind, but— my goodness you’re making it sound like it’s really strong stuff.”
“It’s your choice, dear.”
Once you go Oxcot you cant go back. Maybe its an artificial sweetner?
Maybe it’s just refined sugar.
Maybe it’s xylitol. It’s toxic for dogs (and ferrets) and can induce an hypoglycemic shock, which is why a gormutt would need a “crash buddy”. Would not have any effect on a grazing animal, though.
Y’know, I buy that Cricket’s not working for them. But it’d also serve her interest to squeeze him a little.
That said, I can’t help but feel she wouldn’t mind squeezing him in other ways. Plenty of her to squeeze, that’s for damned sure.
I want to make a really stupid joke, but I don’t see the point, since it would likely only be understood by other Russians (if there even are any here).
make it anyway! there’s atleast like. Two of them.
Alright, then…
At the moment when Cricket talks about how her husband died, the song “In the Land of Magnolias” should play.
I’m writing this and realizing how stupid it looks.
I’m russian too, nice joke
Drink the coffee on an empty stomach, what could possibly go wrong?
Don’t eat or drink it, they are gonna fatten you up and eat you
“I could name four disgusting freaks in this room right now that fancy getting bit.”
So, in that room right now? There’s the guard captain, Zeb, Cricket, and Cricket’s puppet.
chug that shit zeb
Cricket is so awesome and I love her, please let nothing bad happen
We simply must know. Curiosity has famously never done anything bad to mammals.
on the one hand Zeb should really keep his head clear. on the other i gotta know what Oxcot Sugar is like