So... I may have written something completely insane while trying to rebuild my writing mojo after a long hiatus, so Purple Days will update sometime soon instead next year.
And this came out.
I had the seed of the idea back on that fateful night last summer (southern hemishpere) when the Quest almost died after the whole Opaline Vault debacle... so... enjoy?
A Night at the Relath Lounge
The Salt Cave's Atrium was a complete clusterfuck; Hard Imperialists were running in circles like chickens whose heads had just been cut, Lurkers were seeping in from every crack in the floor with words of advice both wise and idiotic, and Regulars and Party Leaders were duking it out right there in the podium.
"This is a complete clusterfuck," said DestroyAndSearch.
"You really couldn't have chosen a worst time for a visit," agreed HoodMan.
The crowd in front of them was
panicked. "What's the latest on DP!" roared one. "Duesal! Is the Quest over?! Duesal!" screamed another one. The crowd was hopeless, lost, hands stretched out into the air and clamoring for the beleaguered Magpie Knight's attention.
Duesal was waving his hands pleadingly, calling for order, "DP has taken a little time off from the thread, just to think a few things over. The
Quest however
is not over! Now, would you please make an orderly line-"
"TNE! What's the final buy-list for the Opaline Vault trip!" someone called out.
TNE looked nonplussed, "The Quest is falling apart and you're worried about
buy-lis-"
"Where's Azel! Is he leaving for good?!" shouted another one, interrupting him.
Duesal waved his hands soothingly, trying to calm down everyone as a few gold dragons and other assorted loot slipped form his cuffs. "I know just as much as you do guys, but I'm sure he'll be back. Almost everyone does after serving their time in the Caves! Now in the interest of moving this Quest forward, I'd suggest talking with DP in the morning after-"
He couldn't end the sentence as man in a ragged suit clambered atop the atrium and screamed with all his might. "THE SALT CAVE IS OUT OF BEDS!!!" he roared as a madman prophesizing doom, and the crowd erupted into frenzied shoving and shouting as DestroyAndSearch shook his head.
"Come on DAS, time to flee like the brave men we are!" said HoodMan, pulling DAS by the shoulder as the meeting room turned into absolute chaos.
"Wait, we can't just leave! Years of sweat, joy, and
salt are hanging in the
balance!" bellowed Jedi_99 as DAS grabbed him in turn.
"There's nothing we can do but wait until tempers cool down!" DAS told him as the trio emerged from the room, a stream of likewise sensible people following them down the great corridor into Salt Central.
Jedi_99 sat down on a nearby bench, nodding absentmindedly. "No, you're right… nothing we can do now that won't just spark off another thread war… Fuck! What the hells are we going to do man? I may be a card carrying Hard Imperialist, but I know diddly
squat about engineering! Trying to convince the thread to go through with the battleship without Azel will be like trying to fake a PhD presentation at Oxford!" he stammered.
DAS smiled good naturedly, "Come on, it can't be
that bad-"
"I'm going to study
Photography man," Jedi despaired.
"
Azel?! What about
DP mate! Can't run a Quest without a GM!" said HoodMan, "And even if he comes back, we could lose more Regulars. The damned
Aberisplotion has nothing on the sheer fallout we've got right now. Eh, fucking
Goldfish's posts had an air of exhaustion," he delivered with aplomb.
"What?!
Goldfish?! He wouldn't…" whispered Jedi_99.
"Yeah, I saw that post too," Agreed DestroyAndSearch, sitting on the other side of the bench. "If he goes, we'd be down to only TNE for optimized battleplan overview, beyond a few helpers." The veteran was somber, massaging his head.
"Jesus Christ, we'd be one Differential-Calculus-induced-stroke from run of the mill battleplanning… Viserys would get
raped the next time the Thread bites off more than it can chew," whispered Jedi_99.
HoodMan snorted as he shook his head, "I can see the vote now. '[X] Viserys blasts the Bey of Beggars with
fire! Dany casts DimAnchor, Tyene support's Viserys spell," he said drily.
"Assay Spell Resistance, Turtle Beam, Assay Spell Resistance, Turtle Beam, Assay Spell Resistance, Turtle Beam…
why isn't it working!" Jedi said scathingly.
The three friends simmered for a moment under the prospect of being turned into Living Brass and possibly playing as level 3 Jon Snow -if DP even made it back to the Thread, that is- before DAS took a deep breath.
"Alright guys, lets get a move on. The Thread has rallied back together time and again, it'll do so again. They're lovable bastards like that," he added with a wistful sigh.
"Alright old timer, what do you suggest?" HoodMan agreed as he stood up. He'd been thinking about ways to grind First Men barrow tombs for paltry equipment and whatever scraps of XP DragonParadox was willing to fork out of pity. Not a cheery headspace.
"I may have chosen the worst time ever to organize a visit to the Salt Cave, but we might as well enjoy ourselves while we're here. DP is off for the night at least and we have to burn time somehow… And I for one do not want to turn into a salt statue back in the Atrium," said DAS with a shrug.
"I can get behind that," agreed Jedi, joining the pair as they all walked through Central Station. "We could go see the Braavos Caves, some guy handed me this brochure"- he said as he opened up a beautifully printed, professional brochure filled with archeological pictures –"says the whole thing is
haunted"-
DAS bit back a laugh, HoodMan nodding along with a smile. "It's a rip off," explained HoodMan after Jedi frowned at them, "It's just a waste of time. Crawling beneath crumbling walls and moisture filled catacombs just so you can see some early Braavos Era salt carvings. Really not worth it."
Jedi looked undeterred, "But it says its
haunted!" he pouted.
DAS put a hand on his shoulder, "Jedi, you're not going to find the specter of TreeBeards on a whim. The Ent is dead and gone," he declared. "He's been gone for a long time," he added quietly, and Jedi was unsure if DAS had meant for him to hear that one.
"Only three things inside this brochure that would be worth it," HoodMan confirmed, leaning on Jedi's other side and looking at the advertisements. "Of them, the Early Glyra Carvings got removed last month and bundled with other Glyra pieces from her Good Arc. They're now an exhibit of their own," he said, holding three fingers in the air before lowering one. "The Angry Magpies are mating somewhere around Rakshasa's Useless Lore and won't be in season for another two months"- he lowered a second finger- "And you've got to trek through
three days of discussion and barbed 'Yes' and 'No' landmines to even
get to Tiamat's Battlefield, and another one for Dany's War Memorial. Not worth the effort," he dismissed the last finger elegantly.
"They say the statue of Blind Viserys there is the size of a building though," said Jedi.
"Mate, there are
still bodies around that battlefield," said HoodMan
"… Well, what then?" Jedi asked, flabbergasted.
"I'm feeling might thirsty, for one," mused DAS.
"Relath Lounge?" asked HoodMan.
DAS nodded happily, "Yeah."
--
The waitress serving their table at the Relath Lounge looked apologetic as she gave them their drinks. "Sorry about the fuss, been a busy day," she told them before fleeing back to the bar.
"You could say that," Jedi mused as he gazed at the Lounge. The bar itself was full, and the tables beyond resembled life boats adrift in a sea of uncertainty; tables filled with costumers grumbling against each other and calling for more drink. He sipped his craft beer as he watched the spectacle, the sheer amount of noise drowning out his heartbeat.
"Always gets like this after a good saltsplosion," DAS told him, taking a drink before leaning back in contentment.
"Why are you so relaxed? Everyone around here is
arguing," said Jedi.
"Ah, but they're arguing about
ASWAH. Not about the war in X place, or the latest idiotic thing politician Y ranted last night. I can live with that arguing," DAS said as if he were delivering great wisdom.
"What do you say man?! All in?" shouted a guy on the table beside them, looking up at the great life sized carving of Relath in midflight, its wooden eyes looking in the direction of the poker. "Alright, All In," declared the guy, putting down his cards. His measly pair of ten's handily beat down the pathetic hands of his counterparts, and they all grumbled as the man leaned back and tossed a golden dragon at Relath. "Thank you!" he smirked as the golden dragon bounced against the statue and landed back on the table, "Seems he didn't want the tip," concluded the man.
Jedi would have swore the dragon's eyes moved, as if tormented by some infinite agony just before the moment the coin hit his snout and fell away, forever beyond its grasp.
"So," he said after shaking his head, "Aberisplotion? That was before my time I think," he asked HoodMan.
"It was a mess. Bunch of mercs jumped the party and almost killed Lya. The Cosmos kept pulling stuff out of its ass so they could survive our relentless chase afterwards…" said HoodMan as he cupped his hands around his bottle of gin.
"We got the CR Common Sense Agreement out of it though. It was more than worth it," DAS pitched in.
"Sure didn't feel like it during the encounter itself though," HoodMan said as he shook his head.
"I thought the CRCSA was signed after the White Harbor Explosion?" Jedi asked them.
"It was, but the Aberisplotion -cursed never ending gift that it was-
did lay down the seeds for that Agreement" said HoodMan.
"Ha! Man if my friends could listen to us now, I doubt they'd even
understand what we're talking about!" said Jedi_99, smiling halfheartedly.
"There there, no need to get all melancholic about it. Cheers mate!" HoodMan toasted. DAS and Jedi had no choice but to drink on.
The night got a hell of a lot more melancholic as the alcohol ran free, and the next memory Jedi_99 had was about cheering on DAS on the poker table, the man somehow cleaning out every gambler to stand in his way.
"Lay it on them! Wreck emmmm!!!" roared Jedi as he swayed wildly, only HoodMan's firm grip keeping him from tumbling to the ground as the crowd roared and DAS grabbed a hold of his enemy's chits. "You want to know something funny, HoodMan?" he whispered as if we were telling a secret, having the time of his life but unable to keep the
secret within him any longer.
"What now?" HoodMan hiccupped, the exquisite power of the gin hammering his head like a specialty Tomcost trained Angry Magpie as the crowd roared again.
"You're the only black person I know," he confessed, half ashamed.
"What."
"I know! Look, and I'm sure this comes as no surprise, but despite what my tag may say I
don't live on Coruscant alright!" Jedi blabbered, words tripping on each other.
"Jedi-"
"I live on bumbfuck, rural nowhere, Flyover State!" he confessed, "My History teacher is a Flat Earther man!" he said.
"Jedi, look… I know you've got to lay that off your chest but-" HoodMan tried only for Jedi to give him a serious look drunks shared everywhere around the globe. The 'I have to say this incredibly important thing
right now!' look of doom.
"I just want to say- All you guys- Thread- are my window to civilization-" he went on drunkenly, swaying happily, "If the Quest shuts down I'll cry! There! I said it! And I wanna say- I love to meet different people through it- from different countries- different races-" he said as he gazed back at HoodMan, "And I-"
"I'm not black!" HoodMan managed to roar into the boy's ear.
The Relath Lounge was silent for a heartbeat. Men, women, and indistinct avatars from half a thousand dimensions looking at the duo.
"Damn right you're not! Hoodman is not even human! He's something
alien! Something that would send the denizens of the Far Realm running for their mammas!" shouted someone in the back. The silence grew deeper until the strain was too much, and the man pointed an accusing finger, "He's a
Good Party member!" he roared.
"And without me an Evil-Negative Lya would have screwed you in all the hundred and one kamasutra positions back in SD, so you can thank me later Obelisk!" HoodMan called out good naturedly.
"Don't give him ideas! Obelisk would
love that!" DAS called out, and the Relath Lounge laughed in assent before turning back to its gambling games, desaltification massages, and drinking.
"… so… you're…
not black?" asked Jedi as he scratched his chin.
"Mate, I'm British," HoodMan delivered with a straight face, and Jedi_99 went psychedelic as his image of HoodMan transformed into some caricature of James Bond mixed with a Union Jack streaming in the background.
"But your tag says Brooklyn, NY!" Jedi exclaimed, only to cringe at how that came out.
Hoodman was giving him the '
really?' stare. "Bank where I work moved to the US," he said drily.
"So your username… you don't live in… the… hood..?" Jedi was cringing adorably with every word, grounding through them out of some sense of misplaced duty.
HoodMan was struggling to contain the hysteric laughter building up inside his gut, "Nah, its named after the
HMS Hood… you know,
the battlecruiser?" he managed.
"Oh…" Jedi nodded. "Hm. My mother hates limeys as well now that I think about it," he offered it as some sort of heartfelt apology.
Somewhere inside a smallish building in New York, an office was startled. A brit office drone who had been displaying commendable attention at his laptop –probably hashing out excel tables regarding the bank's latest acquisitions- suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter.
Back in the Relath Lounge, the party had gotten out of control. Things had already been wild when Crake and Snowfire had taken over the karaoke and riled up the crowd with a heart moving duet… but when the loudspeakers declared an Update was in beta, and that the rogue dessicators laying siege to Azel's office had mysteriously departed, the Relath Lounge went
insane. Apparently, Azel and Artemis were somehow partying together down in the newly minted Embra Hall, and rumor said Goldfish was breaking out the crates with the shock sticks so they could all hurry the Betas along. That one was always a crowd pleaser... practically a national sport!
In the Relath Lounge, Jedi thought, all was good with the world.
"UNLAWFUL SALT LEVELS DETECTED. PREPARE TO BE DESALINATED!" screeched a mechanical voice.
"DESSICATORS!!!" screamed Obelisk as he stood up and was swiftly turned into an emaciated husk. The man fell, revealing the ominous silhouette of a Dessicator behind him. The chromed, boxy looking bot swiveled, its Desalter Tool spinning up for another extraction as more of its brethren beeped and wheeled into the Lounge.
"OBELISK!" DestroyAndSearch shouted as he stood up, Angry Magpies making use of the chaos to swoop down from their hiding place in Relath's back and steal the chits while the old timer was distracted.
"My Lyas," whispered Obelisk through parched lips, "My beautiful Evil Lyas… Thread, why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you…" he mumbled before losing consciousness.
"DESALINATION IN PROGRESS, PLEASE STAND BY!" droned the Dessicator as its brethren started to shoot nets into the air, tangling thread members left and right as Desalter Tools whirled and people screamed.
"RUN!" shouted Jedi_99 as the Lounge turned to Chaos.
