This soft, golden-orange light that fills the room – like someone had painted a picture of a room during the late afternoon, but the paints they were using were just a little too saturated – starts to grate on your nerves a little. Eyes raised and watching the TV closely, you try to puzzle it out as you step over the rug with only the barest of glances.
The footage displayed on each TV is subtly different, but largely the same – of a crude and twisted tree-line, of huge, knotted black trees that crack and snap back into place, surrounded by a thick and sickly pale blue fog. It takes you a moment, but after a little bit of more concentrated watching it's soon clear even through the fog that the trees are... walking? No, walking is too human a term, the masses of writhing, snapping branches fading in and out of the fog. Crawling? Reshaping? You're reminded faintly of a documentary you saw as a kid about coral reefs, but as if someone had dumped an oil tanker first.
There is no sunshine to the place, but the sky above and that you can occasionally glimpse through the trees is warm and orange and completely, perpetually cloudy. There's no breaks in it – a thick and roiling golden cloud cover, like a soundless storm.
… Is that outside? Will... will I even be able to breath out there?
You hug yourself tightly to keep from shaking, and give one last glance at the TV itself. There's no text on it – just a black symbol running along the bottom in the shape of... some sort of crown?
Or like an abstract, demonic skull.
You're hoping it just means that whatever brand makes TVs for monsters is really into old school heavy metal music and keep focused on the present. You need to keep moving and exploring.
You figure it's best to avoid the place that reeks even through whatever shield Bippy is providing you – at least for now, if you can help it – and so focus on your options to your left. When you were in the cage, you were running on a mixture of anger at the giant, but there was a sort of icy focus – as if the pain was detached or abstract, happening to a stranger – unlike the sort of... rhythmic, looping pain and nausea you've been feeling since.
Silver light it is.
Approaching the door carefully, trying to step carefully so as to avoid making any creaking sounds – though the uneven surface of the floor seems to create nothing more than a firm 'pat' sound as you step on it – it looks very similar to the door in the basement leading to the garbage disposal. Other than being a little taller – appropriate, since you're fairly confident the ceiling here is taller than the basement anyway – it's practically identical, with that same 'disc' in the centre of twisted and centralized roots. The disc has smudges of faded glowing blue liquid, but it's been left slightly open.
"Oh! The kitchen!~" cuts in Bippy, "I'm sorry Silas, I didn't even think about food! Humans and orichal need-"
Another faint squeak rings out from beyond the door, louder than before, and Bippy flares up suddenly.
"Oh no! No you don't...! Silas, go in!"
Your lips curl a little as you try to brace yourself for whatever strange new monstrous thing is making the noise, and with careful, sudden shove you push the door open – and then hop backwards, fists raised.
Slowly, inevitably, the door drags itself inwards to the echoing sound of wood chewing through wood, and as the faint silver light spreads to fill your vision, the thought whispers to you that maybe this was a mistake.
"Bippy, what... what is it?"
"Eugh, the worst creature in all the spheres! Dreadful, dreadful!"
You gulp a little, and then-
…
Wait what.
"Squeak!" says the... well, you can't quite figure out if it's a pigeon, a rat, a parrot, a lizard, or just a really weird, tiny old man in a dinosaur gimp suit.
"Shoo, shoo!" snaps Bippy, flickering into the kitchen like an angry tennis ball, "Get outta here Faltehim! Stop eating the fruit!~"
"Snrrr!" snaps back the weird creature, a piece of... what looks like a piece of bloody, rancid beef, except it's a dark blue colour – leaping away from the massive wooden sideboard that stands maybe five or six feet off of the ground. It lands against another sideboard underneath one of the blue lamps that line the tops of the walls here – just like the ones elsewhere – and starts to wiggle itself suggestively as it takes another bite of the 'fruit' it clenches in knitted, horrid claws.
"Wh-... what...?" you barely stammer out, and the tiny rat dinosaur bird man sneers, looking you dead in the eye. Your blood runs cold, because you can tell from its expression – this creature has nothing to lose.
"SQUE!" it screams, as Bippy tries to... herd it? Bippy zooms in like a bolt of lightning, and the monster hisses as it bounds away.
"Go on, scoot, scoot! Get outta here!"
"Squeak!" it shouts again, and with another loud hiss it throws the last chunk of dark blue muck right at you and, as you wince away from the cold, foul smelling flesh it dives towards you and dips between your legs, vanishing down the creeping, narrow passageway where the nameless were whispering.
"Wh-... what?"
"Yeah! And stay out!" grumbles Bippy as it goes, and shakes themselves, before turning back to you.
"I... what?"
"Oh, sorry!~ Faltehim is a real pain sometimes, he keeps sneaking back in through the roof!~"
"Faltehim... wait, that's a person? A guy?"
Bippy narrows and fades again, and then springs back into place without a worry, zipping into the kitchen, bathing it in a soft mixture of silver and golden light, occasionally interspersed by the blue light of a few lanterns along the upper areas of the wall.
"Hehe, I sure wish Faltehim was a person!~ Maybe he'd eat less of dad's food if he was!~"
"No, I mean... you gave it a name. Is it... like a pet? What species is he?"
Bippy pauses, and based on the way their light changes you could've sworn they were blushing?
"Oh, no! Faltehim's just a wild animal. He breaks in sometimes when the scarecrows are out, but he's pretty harmless!~"
… You consider pushing further into what exactly Bippy is avoiding telling you, but tuck the thought away for now.
"The scarecrows keep out intruders, then?" Would make sense, I guess.
"Oh yeah! Dad imported them from another sphere – he said that 'the only warrior folk on the ruddy sphere are jokers, and I'll be caught dead before I hire a ruddy joker to guard my property!' – because they're super super good at killing things!~"
Your throat tightens, just a little.
"Why... why aren't they on guard, then?"
Bippy seems to pause for a moment, and narrows so thin they almost become a flat disc – for just a moment you're reminded of a video you saw a while ago of a star being sucked into a blackhole, the jets of plasma stretching and warping out into a flattening, spiraling disc of energy.
Bippy then spoils the illusion of greatness by springing back into their usual shape with a sharp giggle and a spark of damaged wiring.
"Well, they're probably looking for something, or someone, out in the marshlands! Sorry Silas, I really don't know!~"
You sigh again, shake your head, and try to refocus.
Keep focused. Get home.
You carefully continue into the kitchen – where thankfully there don't seem to be any more weird monsters, and get a proper look at the place.
Sure enough, it definitely feels like a kitchen – a floor of smooth black stone, heavy wooden sides with tall wooden cupboards, and a big wooden rack containing a huge array of little clay pots with different symbols on them. Between the rack and the closest sideboard, meanwhile, is a much smaller rack containing hefty pieces of cutlery, all appropriately sized – a hefty butcher's machete that's almost two and a half feet long stands out to you most.
The entire room feels – as do all of the rooms in this place – like it was 'grown into' or hollowed out from the inside of a tree that somehow remained alive the whole time, but the corner opposite is some sort of massive round... well, if you're being honest, it looks kind of like a big stereotypical witches' cauldron.
An enormous dark grey metal pot, maybe 8 feet tall and 8 feet wide, mounted on a huge, elaborate carved stand made of some mixture of that same black stone you've seen before and... what you think might be driftwood? It's got a different texture, lighter and more elaborate, than the heavier, darker, 'fresh tree bark' look of everything else.
Decorative?
"Aww," says Bippy, who bolts into place just over the massive cauldron, their light tilting downwards as if looking into it, "Dad's not been cooking recently. I can't smell or taste anything, but I know it's better for him to eat proper dinners!~ He hasn't taken the time for a good stew in ages!~"
Your stomach rumbles loudly, as if all of this talk of food and kitchens has reminded you that the only thing you ate today was some milk and cornflakes – and that with everything that went on those are now mostly on the floor of the cage. You sigh, and turn to the wall to your left – cramped from the ceiling moving inwards – where you see two important sights.
The first is a massive, rectangular grey box – the only clearly mechanical object in this room. Sleek and uncomfortably ominous in just how fancy and modern it looks, it's... well, it certainly looks like a fridge. At the edges it glows with a clear cut, wide silver glow, and on the surface is more symbols you don't recognize. There's little magnetic hooks stuck to it, with little leathery post-it notes attached all along the top half of the box, written in a language you don't recognize scratched out in jagged, heavy pen strokes.
Just pass it and at the base of the wall, meanwhile, is thin mesh of roots and wooden growths – distinctly teeth shaped – that arrange into... almost a kind of grate? It's unclear where it would lead to, but you can faintly hear the nameless whispering from it.
Nothing grabs your attention as being immediately useful unfortunately other than the knife, but you do consider grabbing something to eat from the fruit bowl... and then remember the sight of the fog on the TV, and it occurs to you that whatever counts for food here might be poisonous, or attract monsters, or turn your organs into ferrets or something.
You pause, shake your head, and sigh. Keeping the knife logged in your mind as an option should it be needed but leaving it on the rack for now, you consider some of your options. Maybe the room opposite and around the corner? You give Bippy an awkward smile of changing your mind, and back away into the hallway. They dutifully zip back to take the lead, and as they go on ahead of you slightly, you also see one of the golden lanterns on the edge of the corner for the large, wide open room.
They're... they're the same?
You stop dead in your tracks, taking a close look at the way the light pulsates from Bippy, and the light from the lantern, and realize that no – it's more than that.
They're synchronized. You could swear the timing on it was perfect.
"What's up Silas?~"
"Bippy... you mentioned 'sparks' before. What is a spark?"
"Oh!~ What a neat question! It's me...! I'm a spark!~"
…
You wonder if you should've guessed Bippy would work that out as the most helpful answer to your question.
"No, I know that, what I mean is... what are you? Like a... robot? A computer program? A ghost? An alien? When... when you say 'a spark', what does that mean?"
Bippy wobbles in the air for a bit, blinking backwards and forwards between you and the lamp on the wall, before pausing again. You're about to wave your hand to try and gets its attention when in a sudden pulse of light Bippy snaps into place right above the palm of your hand. The warmth of its glow is almost intoxicating, and whatever weariness was forming in your arms and legs fades rapidly, rejuvenated.
"A spark is like... pure warmth. When you have enough gold in one place, focused into a thought, it comes to life. It lives to help and be nice to people... like me!~"
You try to blink away the strength of the golden light at such close quarters, as Bippy flickers away from your hand and returns to its place between you and the lamp. Bippy floats right up to it, and as it suddenly wiggles on the spot you hear the slight 'dink' of a tiny hand gently bouncing against glass.
"These are sparks too, but they're just sleeping. They're being helpful by being a light source!~"
...
"Wait, are they... are they conscious? They can talk and think, like you?"
Bippy stops bouncing against the glass and turns, their golden wings seeming to shift slightly into... crossed arms? Narrowed eyebrows? It's an odd look, but then they suddenly zip down to get way too close to your face, faster than you can blink. You wince as the light gets right in your face again, and worryingly, their voice sharply rises.
"They're not like me, dad made me super special and the best. They're just boring, regular sparks, and they're good at sleeping! They're happy like that!"
… Struck a nerve, huh.
You swallow slightly, glancing over your shoulder, but you can't hear any stirrings of giants or the thundering of footsteps.
Bippy, meanwhile, takes on that slightly hotter, orange-ish glow from the basement, and you're pretty sure you're getting more of a handle for Bippy's moods. You perk up a friendly smile – easier as your strength slowly feels like it's returning, despite your injuries – and raise your hands in a gentle, placating shrug.
"Of course Bippy, you're right, I'm sorry. Thanks for being such a good friend and answering my questions, but..." you slowly gesture with a finger to your lips, whispering, "...secret explorers."
Almost immediately, Bippy returns to its normal shade of gold and backs away a little, shrinking slightly.
"Oh gosh, sorry Silas!"
Phew, you think, smiling and nodding.
You nod towards the area opposite the kitchen, just around the corner from where you are currently. As you approach, you realize that the mixture of blue and golden light isn't so much a combination as it is simply alternating between them. Trying to keep your eyes peeled and your hearing keen, you make your way to the edge of the corner, and taking a deep breath you lean around the corner to look inside.
There's no door – instead, behind a faintly shimmering wall of alternating blue and golden light, there stretches out a wide open space, easily bigger than most of the rooms you've seen so far combined. A crooked and jagged room that almost gives the impression of a greenhouse, except for that same lack of windows – instead, huge blue spotlights alternate between blue and gold as they sway backwards and forwards, bathing the plant life. Four rows of wide, smooth wooden platforms, filled with bubbling black soil. Each has space between them sufficient for the one-eyed creature's girth to walk between them.
The plants inside all seem to be of the same species – some sort of tall but thick stemmed plant with twisting, notched bulbs dotted along the surface like a bizarre mixture of broccoli, cauliflower, and... human brains?
Just beyond them, meanwhile, are a set of strange blue machines you can't make out properly from here. They seem to plug into the floor with jagged, chaotic pipe-work.
They're above the cage room, you realize.
Thin strands of some sort of... thread, or wires – it's hard to tell – connect the bulbs of the plants, and you suddenly realize that whatever rustling noise you heard earlier has stopped. Instead, you can hear some sort of... babbling? Whispering? Coming from somewhere at the back of the room, and from the base of some of the giant spotlights.
The shimmering wall of light that separates you from the room gives you a sharp reminder in your stomach, and you wince a little at the idea of touching it.
"Bippy, uh, this room... what is it? What's up with the wall of light?"
"Oh!~ That's the stem garden! I don't really know all the technical side of it, but I know dad uses it to grow food and for the kaleidoscope! Ponderous Five lives here. He gets nervous about strangers though, hehe!~"
"Can I... go through it?"
Bippy dims, lower and lower, almost to the point of vanishing – and at the same time, the wall switches to blue, almost completely cutting you off from golden light. For that brief and horrible coincidence, your senses are once again assailed by the rancid stench of rot and muck and mould, and the pain in your head stabs into you sharply, causing you to keel over slightly... but thankfully, not quite as badly as last time, you think?
And then, as quickly as it struck you the pain and stench is gone, as Bippy zips back into bright golden life once more.
"You're a pretty curious guy, I bet you could!~ But I have to warn you, I can't go in there with you, so it'll probably be really unpleasant for you and I dunno how easy it would be to get out again.~"
You can't help but narrow your eyes a little, teeth gritted. More choices, and no certainty as to how much time you have.
CHOOSE ANY NUMBER. YOU MAY WRITE-IN MORE DETAILED INSTRUCTIONS IF YOU WISH:
-- [] Investigate...
---- [] ...the massive sealed door surrounded by a decorative stone arch.
---- [] ...the nameless whispering.
---- [] …the rack of clay pots (kitchen).
---- [] ...the cutlery rack and sideboards (kitchen).
---- [] ...the "fridge?" with silver light (kitchen).
---- [] ...the "grating" made of roots (kitchen).
---- [] ...the cauldron (kitchen; requires something to stand on).
---- [] …the cupboards (kitchen; requires something to stand on).
-- [] Ask Bippy some questions [Write-In (please be specific rather than general)].
-- [] [Write-In].
CHOOSE UP TO ONE TO EXPLORE:
-- [] A tightly sealed door. The disc at its center is dry and colourless as a bone. (Requires remaining blue liquid)
-- [] A thinner, slightly opened door, and even through Bippy's golden light and the light of the "TVs" you can smell something bad.
-- [] A creeping passage way - seemingly too thin for the giant to actually use, but just fine for you - that seems to turn sharply into empty darkness just out of sight of the light from the TVs. You can hear the nameless whispering from deep within it.
-- [] The stem garden (note: you may not be able to easily leave once you enter). If you do, you may choose to investigate any number of...
---- [] ...the tall, leafy plants.
---- [] ...the 'threads' connecting the plants.
---- [] ...the alternating blue and gold spotlights.
---- [] ...babbling from the walls.
---- [] ...the machine plugged into the floor above the cage-room.
Time may be of the essence.
