casually decides between two games??

[puppetdance]

You know, and there's a thing a guy like me can't be appreciative of in all this... this. You pick up a journal, you deck it all out in cards and whistles and other doodads assorted, you finally start to muster up the wherewithal to employ said cards and whistles and other doodads assorted, and now you're saying there's a choice? Between the here or there?

I'm gonna clue you in on a little secret, because there is no here or there. Well, there is, but not in that- I don't know, respect.

There's especially no there. Do not put the me back in the there. I like the here. Here here is a good here, but the other here isn't a bad here either, other than the ominous and overbearing soul-sucking part of the venture.

Do we have to play this game? Do this dance? Because I'm okay with the sitting venture.

Comments

[morethanasidekick]

[And she's just going to stare. A lot. It'll stop after about thirty seconds. Maybe?]

I - [Nope. Back to staring.] Hrmmm....

I don't know whether to ask what you're on about or just, what you're on?

[puppetdance]

[ That sure is a lot of staring. Cue Marty awkwardly swinging his arms around, clapping them a few times and 'hmmm'ing right back at her. It's okay. He'll let her take the first course of action here. ]

The thing is - [ He's very on something, yes, and he's also already started off with that, didn't he? Oh well, he's doing it again. ] Here's the thing.

Let's say you're a mighty gladiator in a coliseum. You make your way through those harrowing gates only to win your battle, you lucky dog, you, and that means you're over, you're done with, you've received your excellent lion-slaying trophy of sorts and hold it high over your head as you leave. And now we ask of those of sane and sound mind, do you - step back into that arena?

[morethanasidekick]

[See now she heard the whole thing. It was the understanding the whole thing that Kenzi was having trouble with which hey, impressive. Usually she's the one leaving people in a state of; huh.

As he attempts explanation 2.0, Kenzi's eyes narrow and look up, like she really is getting the image of herself in a coliseum, nodding along with the story and allowing a silence to hang in the air for a few moments after his finished.]

Is... the excellent lion-slaying trophy made of solid gold?

[puppetdance]

[ That -- that was not the point, Kenzi. His own eyes are narrowing as well, more of a concerned squint trying to suss things out than anything. But he still has to concede: ] Probably

Keeping in mind that these are some really decently scary fucking lions that you barely made your way out of the thick of.

[coolerwithamerman]

[No. no no no]

The answer is no. Don't. Because -

[Because then his mun has to bring him in.]

....You deserve a break after all the shit I put you through. Helped put you through.

[puppetdance]

[ I see little wrong with this predicament! ]

... Hah.

I could appreciate the -- frankly banal attempt at an apology for not so single-handedly taking us all and putting us through the meat grinder for gain and giggles, I honestly could. You know, it's funny how you throw that out there and it still sounds just like you're trying to tell me what to do.

[coolerwithamerman]

[And Hadley breaks] I earned my way out. I did. All the shit we had to do.

[Hadley just glares at him] ...Why spare yourself further frustration kid.

[puppetdance]

See, you earned a merman to the face for all the shit you had to do, is really - really - the more accurate description here, from how I understand it.

You killed three of my friends, you know. I counted. [ A beat. ] You killed, like, three and a half of my friends.

[imbiber]

[Haymitch slowly shakes his head.]

When you're trying to make a point, it usually helps to be coherent.

[puppetdance]

I'm -- [ Hmm. ] There was a point in there somewhere.

[ Elusive, like a fox. ]

If I say, "Help, help, don't lock me back up in that box because it's complete and utter fucking bullshit," does that make it clearer?

[imbiber]

[A slow nod this time.]

You could've saved yourself a lot of blathering if you went with that from the beginning.

[puppetdance]

And cut down on my favorite pastime?

[ Blathering is an art, Haymitch. ]

You young kids and your lack of appreciation for the art of conversation.

[decents]

Even I can't follow this.

[puppetdance]

Um. [ That's fair. ] An effort was made. Ideas were in transit, the monkey was metaphorically let out of its box.

[decents]

The mouse reached the cheese at the end of the maze... [ Not mocking you. Following your train of thought. ]

[puppetdance]

[ Hmm, cheese. He could really go for some grilled cheese. He's squinting thoughtfully upwards about it for a moment before -- oh, right. ]

That's the ticket. You're seeing the light of day. Now you're thinking with portals.

Only, for the sake of accuracy, let's replace the cheese with one of those pressurized traps that releases the floor panels, spikes appear and ggghk.

[detoxes]

Where exactly is here? And there? In the context of your original conversation, of course. I keep getting shuffled around a lot too. It's aggravating.

[puppetdance]

[ HUFF. Okay, he can do this, this time around. ] The trajectories, as they stand.

Here: A whimsical castle on the countryside, [ or somewhere, ] abound with things galore. Wishes! As many wishes as can be granted! It's an enchanting and attractive idea, until one considers the fact that said whimsical castle apparently feasts on one's life force, in a manner of speaking. Think Hogwarts as run by Guillermo del Toro.

And the there: A hell Thunderdome of terrible potential, with none of the aforementioned cards and whistles and doodads. Not a single wish to be seen! None of the party gear one would expect to be readily accessible in a horror game, as so should be made readily accessible in a horror game. And -- well, you know.

But I will have a friend there.

[ He rubs his hand messily against his face. ] Wishes. I should have invested more stock in acquiring fairy godparents.

[detoxes]

The first place sounds pretty cool. A bit more accommodating. I speak from experience.

[Frown.] If we're on the same page here - It sucks in the Thunderdome okay. I've been there a week and I haven't eaten anything. I'm so close to gnawing my arm off. I just want to go home.

[pullsneedles]

Sometimes they got a reason.

Sometimes the games're better.

[puppetdance]

I... okay.

But in the case the games suck a big fat one, then what?

[pullsneedles]

[The kid shakes his head a little bit.]

Dunno. Survive?

I'd say come t'my game but don't think yer mun's got that in mind. It'd be nice t'be a little less alone.

[gentleman_thief]

It certainly gets to be a bit much, doesn't it?

[puppetdance]

There's a fine line between 'a bit much' and 'total fucking bullshit'. Like the fine line between losing your dollar in a vending machine and being sent to your ungodly fate via terrible nightmare monsters.

[gentleman_thief]

I'm certainly aware of that line myself. On the surface, being locked in a location being chased by some paranormal entity.

Behind the scenes a powerful organization wants you to die for their cause.