Would-Be Gods

"Tlacatl," you try.

If a word could have a taste, this one tastes like the best hot chocolate you've ever had. It tastes blissful.

But it tastes sort of... unfinished.

What did the giant say? Tempero Tlacatl.

"Tempero Tlacatl," you try. The magic seems to be seeking a target.

There's nobody here but you, tlacatl is suppose to be something about a person? Or a man, or a slave, or... okay. "Tempero Tlacatl... me?"

You think about your wings, because they're on your mind pretty much constantly.

You manage to move your wing-tip without moving your wing-tip.

Well, that's a little weird.

You go through the rest of the combinations, trying them out in different orders.

Tempero Buli doesn't do anything.

You can't even say Kwxe, so you don't try that one with anything more than once.

Tlacatl Buli seems almost like it's going to do something but not ... quite. Like the magic is waiting.

You're not sure what "kipia" is supposed to be, but it definitely tastes like paste in your mouth. Maybe you need to hear it said instead?

But on the other hand, you manage huamu and while it's nowhere near as cool as tlactl, you think you ought to be able to to do something with it.


You still have a little time left before Bethel gets in to work, so you check out that other website. While it seems like it ought to have a lot of useful information, you're just not having a lot of luck with it. Maybe you really needed more sleep than you got. Maybe it's something about the way the pages keep seeming to refer back to each other. The Addington Institute for Linguistic Manipulation seems like an interesting place, and you get the feeling they do work with the words you've been using, but you find no references to the specific words anywhere on the site.

The cafe will open soon. You could stay and work the early shift if someone calls off again, get some breakfast while you're there and hope that Bethel needs you, or you could go check out the city.

Do you:
[ ] Stay to work. Money is useful, after all.
[ ] What happened to that giant and his giant-sized trail?
[ ] Shopping; you could really use some new clothes. The Salvo isn't far away...
[ ] Experiment: Do these wings actually work for flying?

Voting will remain open until morale has improved until the QM is awake and caffeinated, approx. 7 a.m. Eastern tomorrow.

Until then, have the web page that had nothing useful, Mark II

There's a park just a couple blocks from Mama Rhea's; you lock up behind you and head that way.

(Psst: If you're curious, on the map, it's MLK park, bottom rightish)

There are some early-morning commuters around, but for the most part, the roads are quiet. That's good; you're not sure all the glances you're getting are friendly, and you feel slightly conspicuous. You wrap your wings around you, but that doesn't really hide them.

You have to walk past the ruins of Xerox tower to get to the park; it looks like it took a couple more good hits. One road is still closed, big barricades blocking it off, a dump truck waiting for the morning crew. The tower itself looks broken at the top but most of the building is still standing. A stripe of three of its fin-like concrete flanges are shattered all the way down and you can see a couple broken windows.

Pausing to look at the building that changed your life, you catch sight of a person in flannel pausing, too. Nothing unusual, except you'e pretty sure you saw the same plaid two blocks back.

You head to the park. There's nobody there but a homeless guy napping in the playground. You let him be; you've slept there yourself, before you found your current hide-out, before you found Bethel (or she found you).

You head out to the broad field-like area and spread your wings out to their full length. How do birds take off? Flap flap, right?

Your first attempt gets you a couple feet off the ground. You pump your wings - now that is a weird feeling! - and lift your feet and then stumble and fall.

It doesn't hurt, which is still amazing.

You try again, this time from the edge of a fountain. Spread, flap, jump.

You are not making the most graceful flight, but you are definitely flying. You circle the park a couple times, trying to get the hang of steering. It's -- well, definitely weird. It takes a lot of concentration.

Your third circle, when you finally have it, you see that flannel-clad person again. It's got to be the same person. There can't be three people wearing the same ugly flannel, can there?

You land on the opposite side of the park from them and find yourself looking directly at a white van. The logo on the side is a construction company, but the van is really clean. Really. Shining.

You take two steps backwards and look behind you. There's the flannel person. Running. Running towards you.

The van door opens while you're looking away.

(By the way, lime colored text below is the main color of the ugly flannel)

Do you:
[ ] Flee (flying)
[ ] Flee (running)
[ ] "Oh, hey, it's a party. I didn't bring the scones..."
[ ] Amble off like nothing is going on
[ ] write-in