Quoted By:
Fueled by <span class="mu-b">MILD IRRITATION,</span> you swoop over to the console like a pissed-off hawk and slap your palm onto the flashing box on the screen! <span class="mu-i">AHOY HOY?!</span>
A moment later, the sound of clutter moving around on the other end is quickly followed by a familiar, and <span class="mu-i">very</span> condescending voice from within the monolith:
“Oh, eet’s <span class="mu-i">you</span>. And here I was thinkink you had died.”
Yea, <span class="mu-i">hi</span>, bitch! She called <span class="mu-i">you</span>, by the way!
“Yea, <span class="mu-i">hi</span>, bitch, I called at least three meenutes ago, and yes, I calculated that.” Replies the witch in an unamused tone! “Why would I want to try callink your preemitive carcass if-ah, that explains it.”
Hearing another shuffle of what you assume to be some sort of <span class="mu-b">FUTURISTIC DESK CLUTTER,</span> you hear the faint sound of another feminine voice whining in pain!
“Update, preemitive: my assesstent in words only <span class="mu-i">RHODI</span> here fat-feengered the call button and forgot to hank up–quite a miraculous feat weeth no fat left on her feengers, but here she ees doing eet…”
Pausing to release a drawn-out and clearly disappointed sigh, the witch continues.
“Then again, you preemitives managed to reset the, ahem, ‘<span class="mu-i">TOTEM</span>’, as you call eet, and leeved to tell the tale, so I can only assume rational conclusions are on holiday today. How lucky for <span class="mu-i">you</span>...”
Cut the crap, you snarl, you know what she’s up to!
Izzie responds with a dismissive chuckle. “Oh? And what, pray tell, ees that?”
More <span class="mu-r">DEMONS,</span> that’s what, you exclaim! She wants to summon some <span class="mu-r">LURKER</span> or something! Didn’t she learn her lesson from, like, two seconds ago!?
“No, stupid, I learned eet <span class="mu-i">centuries</span> ago.” She retorts in a no-nonsense tone. “I’ve been workeenk with demons long before your preemitive race developed <span class="mu-i">leembs</span>.” She snarls, “And as eet so happens, <span class="mu-r">THE DWELLER EEN THE DEEP</span> happens to be my teeket out of thees loathsome unlife of servitude.”
You blink in confusion. <span class="mu-i">How</span>, exactly?
“Well I’d <span class="mu-i">love</span> to tell you,” the witch explains in a matter-of-fact voice, “but it suddenly occurred to me that I don’t… how do I put thees? Hm…”
The witch pauses as you hear something light tapping against a surface.
“Oh, right: I don’t need you <span class="mu-i">alive</span> any more. So while I finish preparing for our next guest,” she explains in an increasingly-grim tone, “I’ll do you a small favor and put you preemitives out of your collecteev misery before he tears thees world apart. Toodles, now.”
>CONTD.
